Eru Iluvatar

The Final Histories of Arda: The Contention of Mordor

By the way, @Sven the Silent and @Bright_Ops, it might be beneficial to find or create a banner for your respective clans. If most of us are posting the banners to initiate the post, then it will be a lot better if we all have one.

All-Star Marvel: Audax Mundus Novus - Season 1 (Completed)

The cold muzzle of a pistol was buried deep into his black, bedraggled hair. Zebediah lay still, unmoving, knowing that the slightest reaction would probably earn him a bullet through his skull. Yet, it wasn't like he hadn't received a couple of them already.
How am I not dead? Killgrave wondered, for once not in control of the situation around him. Why have I not bled out?
He inclined his eyes as far as he could to his body, but he was lying on his chest and so could not discern the situation regarding the gunshot wounds. There was indeed a gruesome puddle of blood that was undoubtedly staining his black operative clothing, though that was the least of his worries. He could not feel any pain from the wounds in his leg and elbow. Perhaps they had gone numb, or the bullets had damaged various nerves leaving them paralysed and without response. However, he knew he would be able to twitch or move either body part if he tried, so only the former possibility was likely.
Several voices were originating from different points of the warehouse, each one displaying the telltale signs of concern, stress and even fear. Killgrave wondered what had happened to prompt these emotions - these were Government officials who had apprehended or driven off all the rebel opposition in the area. Then again... That queer purple hue spreading across my arm. Zebediah cursed silently. He had so many questions, yet the barrel of the pistol prevented him from answering them. He instead thought and planned to himself for what seemed like an eternity, but was likely only a couple dozen of minutes. He daydreamed of the murders of each of the Shadow Conqueror officials, the Government, frankly anyone he thought of in the godforsaken country. I have no allies now. I am a dead man walking.

A new set of footsteps then approached Killgrave's vicinity. The frantic hubbub of the warehouse was extinguished instantly, was replaced by a dutiful silence. A clear conclusion reached the betrayed Sokovian. He could almost see them all saluting despite his restricted view of the hard ground.

"I cannot believe your incompetence!" Shrieked an assertive and deep voice. Killgrave instantly picked out that something was... wrong. There was something strange about the man. He had adopted a vast array of accents, performed them with unrivalled talent, yet for every man - the accent from their homeland never quite faded away. Only another vocal master would have known, but the President of Sokovia was not Sokovian.

She had already sent her bishops on their way to the airport. Doom had, admittedly, surprised her by acting so suddenly, and his effective seizing of Sokovia's central airport was ostentatious to say the least. Wanda now knew she was dealing with a strong character, a self-righteous king bordering on utter narcissism. The mere fact that his mechanical minions were modelled after he himself, with their billowing green capes and glinting armour, proved the monarch's ostensible self-obsession. Then again, with Doom's identical design to his underlings, he would almost always be able to lead astray enemies and accosters and allow himself to survive. He was, obviously, a genius mechanical engineer - or had one working for him.
Wanda had employed a similar sort of strategy in this situation - one of her 'bishops' was a young female named Arissa, and she was a low level mutant from northern Africa. She held no credit apart from her ability to allow one to see through her eyes and speak through her mouth. Arissa never talked about where her own consciousness and spirit went when Wanda was inhabiting her, and the Witch was not about to ask. Arissa herself was meek and reserved, having no value aside from her ability. As long as she could stay alive, Wanda was content to utilise her as a duplicitous envoy.

It was better that she did not appear in person - for she might at any moment have lost control and ruthlessly set herself upon the President or whomever he sent to represent him, or worse - Doom himself. Wanda did not like to be on equal terms with anyone she did not choose to be, so the forcing of her hand had brought her to look on Doom in a somewhat negative light even before the two's first meeting. Inhabiting Arissa was ideal, as she could draw herself back if aggressive urges started to take control, and if she failed to retreat then there was not much harm that Arissa could inflict.
It is time.
She cast a sort of spiritual form of herself out from where she sat on a plush and opulent chair in a secure building, travelling some distance in the space of nanoseconds. Suddenly, she found herself amongst a small crowd of people - the Conqueror's envoys and their heavily armed guard. She was walking through a side entrance to the airport, under a dirty stretch of cheap glass with it's moderate but unattractive infrastructure. Her 'possession' had caused Arissa to stop for a moment, and the other 'bishop' - a laconic and heavy-set man with the nickname 'Baron' - was looking upon her with a severe impatience. Only he from the group knew of Arissa's ability, so he knew that Wanda's emergence into Arissa's body had just occurred. The guards around them waited, obviously puzzled, but they knew better to speak out against two important members of the syndicate.
Wanda caught Baron's eye and nodded indistinctly, and the two resumed their movements towards the open airfield where Doom awaited.
It was part of the Witch's plan now to throw the blame for the border attack and the stolen equipment onto the Government, setting her up with a chance at further negotiations with the Latverian monarch later. Doom's equipment - at least what they had seen from it - was powerful and impressive, and Wanda knew that arming her forces with such weaponry would render the Government helpless against the Conquerors. Finally, after years of hers and her father's life, they would take revenge upon the Government's decades of subjugation.
Arissa's eyes flashed with a scarlet fury as she and Baron pushed through throngs of Sokovian airport security and the first signs of the Sokovian army, ever so surely striding towards Doom.

The Final Histories of Arda: The Contention of Mordor

Hider

Stronghold: Seregost

Seregost is a place of lava and red rocks. Serving as the eastern gate to the Lilithlad in a gap at the Mithram Spur. It has been said that the Black Uruk's of Barad-dûr came from here, hiding there after the defeat of their master in the Second Age, awaiting his return. At the time of the War of the Ring this structure was a place of Dark Sorcery and continued to serve as the breeding ground for the eltie Black-Uruk-Hai. But with the destruction of the one ring and the fall of Sauron the fortress fell into decay but remained standing on its molten foundations. Serving even now as a great fortress that guards the Eastern Road. The river of Caranduin flows down a mountain close to the fortress, all the way down to the sea of Núrnen. What once served as fuel for the many smithing stations and as a means of transport for supplies, is now mostly used as a source of water.

Commander: Ukshak the Bone Collector

Ukshak stands at seven feet tall, an uncommon sight for Black Uruk-Hai though made much more intmidating as of recent, with the elimination of most of his kin. He is clad in an armour literally made from the bones of those that opposed him, serving as a reminder to those under his command that they too, if not showing unquestionable obedience could suffer a similar fate. The skull of a troll is the most notable piece of his armour, adoring his head like a helmet. The remainder of his armour appears to be a mixture of the standard issue Uruk armour but modified, removing weight and armament to instead make place for several large bones and thus exchanging protection for intimidation. He keeps two large blades hanging from his belt, showing that he prefers to fight using two weapons at once over a single blade. The belt that holds his swords shows an equal display of craftsmanship as the rest of his armour, holding several skulls of different races.

Description: History coming soon, i'm a little pre-occupied for the remainder of the afternoon but I chose to post this regardless to see whether or not its current state is acceptable or needs to be changed.

Hierarchy:

The Black Uruk-Hai make up the leadership and most influental part of the Warband, despite being one of the smallest in terms of numbers. They are the strongest and therefor fit to be at the top, the leadership chain is one of dominance and brute force. If you wish to gain a rank you need to face the former holder of that position and challenge him for it, even the leader can be challenged. Though these duels can often lead to death and are not attempted often. The Uruks keep the group together and ensure that Goblins and humans are not killed or harmed in order to ensure they remain available for duty.

Below the ruling class of the Black Uruk-Hai are the Orcs, large in numbers and chaotic. Wickedness and violence are their nature, and they are known to quarrel and kill each other over petty things. Without firm leadership, Orcs have been known to go into battle in complete disarray and without any semblance of formation or tactics. Their strength in combat comes from numbers and sheer violence. They hold no position of power in the Warband and are subjected to brutal forms of discipline and order to keep them in line and from fighting amongst eachother. To keep them satisfied and obedient they are allowed to push around those below them, the Goblin slaves and Humans.

The Goblins are much like the Humans in terms of status, both are used for construction purposes and have to face their superiors with unquestioning obediance. Goblins however enjoy the privilige of standing above the Humans in rank and even they are allowed to push around the men and woman unfortunate enough to be their slaves. The Humans have little rights and in desperate times could be used a source of food.

Resources:

Most of the resources were simply there when they returned in the aftermath of Sauron's destruction, the large Demi-Trolls and groups of Goblin slaves had been used to oversee the breeding process and the creation of new structures and armament. The Black Uruk-Hai that now serve as the leadership of the fortress already called it their home before being forced to retreat back to the safety of its walls. The only other real resource the stronghold acquired was the army of Orcs and the group of Human slaves whom they simply guided like sheep, to the stronghold with the promise of safety and shelter.

Agenda and concerns:

The river Caranduin flows from the mountains close to the stronghold of Seregost and serves as its only source of water. The large fortress has no source of food and the once fertile lands of the Gorgorth Plains have been all but destroyed and the only viable way left to gather supplies is to follow the Caranduin river down south to more fertile lands, or to travel the rough and harsh Deamon Road to the slave fields.

This puts the Warband at a disadvantageous position, having no usuable land close to the stronghold forces them to seek food elsewhere. Fortunately though, their former position as a breeding ground means they hold large stockpiles of armour and weapons, which could possibly be used to barter. Though the current leadership seeks to use it to wage war and gain themselves a more fortunate position closer to the fertile lands down south.

Resource Allocation:

5 Demi-Trolls (Two points.)
300 Black Uruk-Hai (Three points.)
500 Goblin Slaves (Four points.)
200 Human Slaves (One point.)

There we go. I still need to finish up the history but I have some real life things to tend to, i'll finish it in a few hours. I may even be able to in an hour or so depending on how things proceed.

@Sven the Silent

This looks good, so as soon as you do so copy it over to the Character tab.

The Final Histories of Arda: The Contention of Mordor

As an update, sorry for being very inactive but I've had a somewhat stressful return to college this week. I'll be able to catch up in the next few days.

What is everyone else's situation?

Spiritum Aeternum; or The Ramshackle Monster Hunters

I think I might take this opportunity to introduce Stefano to Emilio.

Expect a TitanPad thrown your way soon enough, NY.

All-Star Marvel: Audax Mundus Novus - Season 1 (Completed)

MAKE SILVER SURFER AND DOCTOR STRANGE AND FORM A DEFENDERS TEAM.

OR ELSE.

All-Star Marvel: Audax Mundus Novus - Season 1 (Completed)

She hovered above them all, watching with a ravenous intent as her pawns made a decisive move against the enemy. She had pondered about the rather erratic strike she had ordered, though only briefly. The secret war had been going on for years now, and its conflicts were pitiful and sparse. Then the enemy had suddenly introduced a third party.

"Latveria." She hissed, to none but herself. A cacophony of cultivated fields were split roughly by the border - a large and imposing stretch of stone and steel, manned and defended by the Latverian monarch's soldiers. She had never seen the monarch himself, though the name 'Doom' had been a topic of conversation throughout her entire life, and the rumours were often unbelievable and terrifying. She was greatly interested by the man - if he was even mortal - and the drastic move by the enemy to target his state had made her chuckle with excitement. She knew it would not be long until this 'Doom' was before her.
The strange defenders of the border were unlike anything she'd expected. They were all identical, large and stationary - like gargoyles defending a medieval keep. Penetrating colours of green and silver shone with the moon's glare as her pawns approached.
If they had the audacity to steal under the guise of me, then what else is there for me to do but raise the stakes?
She sneered as her gift held her high in the air. It was a picture of twisted beauty if one were to see her up close.
She focused on the menial response of the Latverian soldiers as her Shadows let loose with silenced gunfire. They appeared remarkably stalwart, barely even fazed by the bullets that should have proven fatal. They began to mechanically move towards her pawns. She wasn't particularly unnerved by the strange soldier's formability - if dead bodies were produced in Government uniforms then she didn't care, even if they were disguises. She had worked with one of her Conquerors, a drunkard but efficient strategist named Ivan Jankovic. They had agreed on this course of action shortly before she had sent the man to dispose of the potentially threatening Zebediah Killgrave.
She giggled to the clouds amongst her. She was manoeuvring the pieces of the war chessboard with a meticulous pragmatism. No matter how far her pawns made it into Latveria, the first signs of conflict would still have sufficed. Doom would be alert soon enough, and the monarch's weaponry would let her crush the enemy once and for all after she had twisted his strings into a trade agreement. And if not... well, she had her gift.
For was she not Wanda Maximoff, master of Chaos? Was she not the Scarlet Witch?

Her pawns fell. They had delivered some significant damage to the queer sentinels of the border, admittedly, though it didn't matter to Wanda what happened to either of the groups. As long as they had recognised the Government insignia inscribed into the deceitful uniforms, then nothing else mattered. Her Shadows deployed during the battle were all fresh meat, new recruits to the syndicate. If they survived the encounter with Doom's forces, then she would allow them to continue their training as fully fledged Shadows. If they perished, however, then they were clearly unfit to be counted among her ranks.
She was beginning to leave when a blurted outburst of cries echoed out from below. Having her curiosity piqued, Wanda dispelled the obfuscating barrier around her and flew down towards the sound. A long abandoned shack sheltered the pained resident, she observed, and it's close proximity to the area of diminishing battle could mean only one thing. Cowards.

---

Carl 'Crusher' Creel lay panting on the floor of the shack. Blood poured out of a wound from his chest, the consequence of a brutal conflict with the strange metal men. The worst part was that the wound was due to a gunshot, and from one of his accomplices, no less. One of the first barrages upon the border guards had seen a bullet repel off of one of the sentinel's armour, only to embed itself deep within Creel's stomach. The man who had fired the shot hadn't noticed, and the people around him who had did not heed his cries for help. This was for all of them their greatest opportunity - the chance to be elected into the esteemed ranks of the Shadow Conquerors, the just and efficient caste pitting itself against the despicable Government. Creel had only lived in Sokovia for a short while, he and his daughter had had to leave the States due to a precipitous situation between Creel and his drug dealers, but the instant the retired boxer had received full citizenship - he had been thrown quite literally into a coal mine. His daughter, only just maturing at thirteen years of age, had been carted off for hours each day to parts unknown. When the father and daughter were reunited after a day or even more, the man was caked with dirt and bloody cuts, and the girl was bedraggled with cheap lipstick staining her face. Needless to say, Creel's patience had soon run out. If he could be drafted into the Conqueror's forces, then maybe he could change things in the isolated country. With his strange power... No, that barely ever happens. I ain't a mutant, not one o' those freaks.

Creel twisted his head to see the decrepit wood start to creep up his fingers, like he was a sponge - absorbing the properties of things that he touched. This phenomena had only ever happened twice before, in very dire situations. Creel hated to think about it - as if one of the old great boxers could be classed as a mutant. It would tarnish his reputation. It would -
The withering wood on the far side of the ceiling began to crumble, and then spasm and vanish into thin air. The illuminating moonlight shone through the ever expanding hole in the roof, and as it did a silhouette began to be visible to the wounded man.
A mutant? Like me?
She drifted through the gaping hole in the ceiling, dragging her long and elegant auburn hair behind her as the compelling shine of scarlet drew his eyes. She was impossibly beautiful, yet in her eyes he could see clearly that something wasn't right.

"Coward." She spat.

"Please, you don't understand."

"Do you think I am mad? Do you think I don't see you quivering here before me!?" She shrieked, anger rippling off her in waves.

"I - I... I can help - against the Government. Please! I'm a mutant!" He threw his hand up before her, showing the dirty brown wood extending up to his elbow. She raised her eyebrows at that, but as soon as the contact between Creel and the wood was gone, his arm began to return to it's usual skin. She giggled maniacally.

"You're weak. You would be nothing but detrimental to my forces." She began to raise her arms.

"I - I'm stronger than the others! Please!" He dug a phrase out of the back of his mind, a phrase that had flurried around in the coming of mutants, "Homo superior!" Her arms snapped up in a sort of demonic dance, with much more rage than before.

"Do not even attempt to relate yourself to those of my calibre! The Shadow Conquerors were created by true mutants! We were the original Brotherhood, we were powerful enough to accomplish anything! You - you are but a runt of what we are!" Her voice was rising by octaves, taking on unnatural qualities. She gestured brutally at Creel.

The power erupted within him. The blood from his wound spurted all around, as his mutant ability - fuelled by the aura of the witch, changed his skin to blood wherever the substance appeared. He eroded from the inside and from the out, as his organs were touched by the blood flowing through his veins. It covered his mouth as he spat the sanguine fluid out, rolled into his eye sockets and up his nostrils. He did not even have a second to scream.

---

She gazed upon the puddle of gore with utter contempt. The power of her hex field still moved throughout the shack - warping the old wood as it went and causing unnatural cracks to appear in the stained windows. Her breath ran ragged and hard, as she still stood enraged due to the recruit's words. Homo superior. As I am the superior to this man. She wasted not another moment upon the liquefied corpse, instead turning and flying out through the hole she had created. The scarlet of the man's blood trickled down her face and outfit from where it had splattered, joining the weaves of red that completed the Witch. She felt invigorated by the blood as she travelled back towards the city, where her doomed enemy awaited.

All-Star Marvel: Audax Mundus Novus - Season 1 (Completed)

Player Name: Eru Iluvatar

Character You Wish To Play: Wanda Maximoff [The Scarlet Witch]

Moral Alignment: Walking the Line

Affiliation: The Shadow Conquerors

Character Origin & Backstory: With the foundation of the Shadow Conquerors (then simply known as the 'Brotherhood' as a European relief and aid group, nobody knew what role it was to have in the years to come. The core founders of the group included Erik Lehnsherr and Charles Xavier - among other faces, many of which who were the largely unknown phenomena named mutants. It appeared afterwards that Lehnsherr had been seeking mutants to join the group, though it was in truth only dedicated to general aid and relief. The group's base of operation - Sokovia - however, was an unfortunate place to be at the time. Corruption and oppression ran rampant in the streets, and all of it originated from the powerful Government that ruled the country. Erik, noticing these drastic afflictions perpetrated by humans, rose to lead the syndicate into direct conflict with the corrupt Sokovian Government. The President and the Government together had plagued Lehnsherr's time in Sokovia - damning him and his accomplices to endless labours and extortionate taxes. Wanda and Pietro Maximoff, two siblings with an undisclosed past and profound dormant abilities, grew up in the guerilla warfare of the Brotherhood-turned-terrorist group under the protection and guidance of Lehnsherr. The two quickly took to him as a father figure where there previously was none - Wanda admiring his natural leadership skills and obvious superiority to the common man.

With the continued state of distress in Sokovia, the ranks of the group expanded. It was renamed to the 'Shadow Conquerors' and Charles Xavier with some of his fellow accomplices were becoming more at odds with Erik's chosen tactics. The leaders, Lehnsherr's specifically chosen compatriots, employed more elite and experienced operatives. They primarily only included the oppressed populace of Sokovia, but hungry eyes looking in from outside the country soon became involved. The Shadow Conquerors altered once again from an organisation fuelled by anger to a bloodthirsty group of killers - at least out in the field. Sokovia descended into chaos, and that's when the X-Genes of the twins came to fruition. Chaos became a homestead for Wanda, and Pietro himself gained the ability to move at superhuman speed. They eventually adopted titles to pair with their gifts: Quicksilver and the Scarlet Witch. Erik took great interest, more so than before, in the two. He saw they were bound for great things.

Wanda had always seemed destined to continue Erik's quest against the Government, if something were to take him out of the field. Coincidentally, he did leave with Wanda's coming of age - along with her brother, Pietro, and many of the mutants involved with Sokovia. They had departed for the United States soon after a seismic separation had occurred between Erik's Shadow Conquerors and Xavier's more pacifist ideas. The two groups were at complete odds, purely over mutant affairs and the position of mutantkind in relation to humanity. Wanda had been interested in staying with her adoptive father and becoming involved in the mutant situation instead of the war with the Government - but she had grown too attached to the former cause. She had grown up with the endless conflicts, and had been involved to a much greater extent than Pietro.

The Maximoff twins had been close physically throughout their upbringing, though it was apparent that as time progressed - the two drifted apart mentally. Pietro was not devoted to the cause that Wanda and her 'father' Erik had taken to heart, and Wanda's growing urge for vengeance against the perpetrators of all the negativity she saw around her only increased. She still loved him, but it was unrequited, a love born out of the shared blood that flowed through their veins. She looked upon a lot of his qualities with disdain, but perhaps with the right counsel he could be prepared for greater purposes. Perhaps, when she had finished crushing the Government, she would seek him out in America.
Wanda had always shuddered when people mentioned the future. Fighting the Government had been her whole life - could she find a similar cause to partake in? Would it have to be for the good of the common man? As she matured into her mutant life, Erik's phrase constantly reoccurred in her mind - 'homo superior'. She knew that he and her brother were fighting over mutantkind on another, unfamiliar, continent. She certainly considered the plight within her possible options. She had decided to leave, after the war was over. Only, she had to survive - both physically and mentally - first.

Powers and Abilities: Chaos Magic Reality Warping - Hex Fields, Telekinesis, Flight, Force Fields. Limited knowledge of general sorcery, formidable tactician, adept at close combat.

Sample Story Arcs:
Fate of Sokovia - Focusing on the climax of the Sokovian Government's war with the Shadow Conquerors, and Doctor Doom's pivotal involvement.
Mutant Discord - Focusing on Wanda's movement to the United States, her reunification with Pietro and her position in mutant affairs.
Chaos Uninhibited - Focusing on Wanda's mental state and her progressive succumbing to the power of Chaos.

Sample Post: She hovered above them all, watching with a ravenous intent as her pawns made a decisive move against the enemy. She had pondered about the rather erratic strike she had ordered, though only briefly. The secret war had been going on for years now, and its conflicts were pitiful and sparse. Then the enemy had suddenly introduced a third party.

"Latveria." She hissed, to none but herself. A cacophony of cultivated fields were split roughly by the border - a large and imposing stretch of stone and steel, manned and defended by the Latverian monarch's soldiers. She had never seen the monarch himself, though the name 'Doom' had been a topic of conversation throughout her entire life, and the rumours were often unbelievable and terrifying. She was greatly interested by the man - if he was even mortal - and the drastic move by the enemy to target his state had made her chuckle with excitement. She knew it would not be long until this 'Doom' was before her.
The strange defenders of the border were unlike anything she'd expected. They were all identical, large and stationary - like gargoyles defending a medieval keep. Penetrating colours of green and silver shone with the moon's glare as her pawns approached.
If they had the audacity to steal under the guise of me, then what else is there for me to do but raise the stakes?
She sneered as her gift held her high in the air. It was a picture of twisted beauty if one were to see her up close.
She focused on the menial response of the Latverian soldiers as her Shadows let loose with silenced gunfire. They appeared remarkably stalwart, barely even fazed by the bullets that should have proven fatal. They began to mechanically move towards her pawns. She wasn't particularly unnerved by the strange soldier's formability - if dead bodies were produced in Government uniforms then she didn't care, even if they were disguises. She had worked with one of her Conquerors, a drunkard but efficient strategist named Ivan Jankovic. They had agreed on this course of action shortly before she had sent the man to dispose of the potentially threatening Zebediah Killgrave.
She giggled to the clouds amongst her. She was manoeuvring the pieces of the war chessboard with a meticulous pragmatism. No matter how far her pawns made it into Latveria, the first signs of conflict would still have sufficed. Doom would be alert soon enough, and the monarch's weaponry would let her crush the enemy once and for all after she had twisted his strings into a trade agreement. And if not... well, she had her gift.
For was she not Wanda Maximoff, master of Chaos?

Was she not the Scarlet Witch?

Spiritum Aeternum; or The Ramshackle Monster Hunters

Going back to college today -.-

Shouldn't see too much of an activity decrease though.

The Final Histories of Arda: The Contention of Mordor

I'm gonna have to put this on hold or you guys continue on without me I got personal stuff going with my mom again.

@Cold Hands

It's no problem. Take as long as you need.

What's the update with everyone else?