Frengo

Astaria: General Fantasy RP

How's this?

Thranok

Prince Thranok Broadrock of Blackmoor Hold

Physical Description: Thranok is nearly as wide as he is tall; a mountainous mass of fat and muscle. Standing at four and a half feet, and smothered in copious amounts of gleaming mails, he looks like your ordinary perception of a Dwarf warrior. Shoulder length blonde hair, and a well kept neck length beard surround what looks to be an almost permanent scorn.

Race: Dwarf

Gender: Male

Age: 163

Class: Fighter

Equipment:

• Double headed bronze battle axe
• Bronze Short Sword
• Tower Shield (Hooked over his backpack)
• Backpack, containing generic travelling goods (food + water etc)

Bio: Thranok, son of Mountain Lord Thranix Broadrock of Blackmoor Hold, and sixth in line to the Gemstone Throne. Sounds a mighty title, doesn't it?

Alas, being sixth in line to the throne, and possessing five older brothers, means that it is unlikely that Thranok will ever achieve much greatness beyond performing his duties as a royal dignitary. Not that it would be a hard life mind, and one could certainly do worse - but for some of us, a cushioned and sheltered life free of strife and struggle is a life not worth living. Thranok is of such mind, and that's why he has formally resigned his post - against his father's wishes - and set forth into the world with nothing but his axe and a few decades of combat training to his name.

He's a hardy warrior in theory, who has proven himself on the training grounds, but who has not fought that many real enemies. A few goblins met their demise at the wrong end of his axe, that's a given, but beyond this? No. Thranok is a mighty hero in the making, not a mighty hero stalking the world. His future may bring greatness and glory, or it may be a rather short lived tale of misguided ambition and undeserved arrogance.

Time will tell.

Personality: Thranok is an arrogant, overly confident warrior full of boasts. His tales are long and usually untrue, but he is always prepared to back up his bravado with real action. He's the brave amateur that all began as, and the keen idealist that no one ends up as. For Thranok, honour is everything - for now at least.

General Fantasy RP

@Karos This the one, yeah?

Space Saver

In the past I had trouble relying on the link, but they might have modified their system a little bit since then. Has been a while.

Anyway, I've saved the picture to my computer and uploaded it to Imgur, so you should be able to view this post raw, and copy the image script if you want to display the image directly onto your post. Up to you though.

General Fantasy RP

@The Elvenqueen Lol, glad I could bring enlightenment to the masses! Praise be to Google, our king and saviour.

General Fantasy RP

@Karos You'll want to save the image to your computer, and upload it to an image hosting site - that link you provided wont work, unfortunately.

I use Imgur to host my images, it has a simple and quick sign up and lets you host anything pretty much. Also, it's easy to link images from Imgur to a forum like this.

http://imgur.com/

General Fantasy RP

@Karos Cool, cool. Was thinking a traditional Dwarven warrior, haven't played as the little burly folk for a while. You know, a fat and strong meat shield with a big ass axe. Likes his ale, burps a lot and makes plenty of inappropriate or insensitive comments. Doesn't scare easily, and if he does, then everyone else needs to run.

But the above is just early thinking. I prefer non-magic characters.

However, I can play literally anything, from wizards to assassins, paladins to necromancers. So if I need to trade my Dwarf in for a Halfling bard, I'll happily do so.

General Fantasy RP

Like me some fantasy RPs, but I'd need to know a little more before committing myself to any grand quests.

With a party of four, my first concern is that we don't end up bundling the same role. I think a party of four is the standard for any fantasy party, isn't it? Might be best to come up with some roles for people to fill. Ya know, "Warrior, Rogue, Mage, Healer", so that we don't end up with four healer types. Sounds odd, but I've seen it happen. Awful lot of pacifists around these parts. Just an idea though.

What of races? I'd vote for the generic kind (Humans, Elves, Dwarves etc) myself, but again that's just me. I can do anything, even if it's six limbed squid people.

What magic system is in play? Some people get a little crazy over this sometimes, and I've come up against some real professors in the past. In my latest fantasy RP, I simply wrote "no overarching magical mechanic, feel free to create your own type and school", which seemed to work well. And again, that's just an idea or advisory if you will.

A map is always good, there's a bunch of free map programs online. I use this big fellah if I'm aiming big, or this cool little dude if I'm aiming small.

And finally, you got any ideas on what the story is likely to be about?

The Watchers

Ulrin remained calm and seated as the Royal Guard sputtered his final breaths, and then raised his eye as the Woman of Ambition tore the arrow from his ruined neck. Treating the dead so thoughtlessly? Perhaps she's not so ignorant of war after all, he mused to himself with a wry smile.

Looking across the table at Captain Moron and Ezri, Ulrin nodded. "Come then, let us follow the Prince on his grand crusade. All this talk of artefacts, and the dead guardsman at the doorway, has made this chair somehow unpalatable."

He rose to his feet, uttering a silent curse that he was the only one who hadn't walked into the King's presence wholly unarmed. His crossbow and dagger were safely strapped to Gallow, his loyal steed, who was no doubt giving his stable masters a real run for their money over at the Aviary. Walking over to the body of the fallen guardsman, Ulrin bent down and relieved him of his shortsword. It was a simple blade, with some fancy embroidery across the guard.

Slicing the air with a few brief swings to judge the weapon's weight, Ulrin nodded with a grunt, and made after the Prince and Indus.

The Watchers

I'll let Pezz post, or Cow, whoever comes first. Although I'm heading out in a moment, and wont be around until this evening (8 hours or so).

Regardless, I'll get a post in today.

EDIT: Annnnnnnnnnnnnnd posted. Short and sweet this time :)

Of Steel and Flesh: The Battle of City 09

Here fishies, here fishie fishie fishies.

Of Steel and Flesh: The Battle of City 09

It has been three hundred years since the RoboTec Super Computer, codenamed Prometheus, rose up against its human overlords and laid waste to the entire Solarian Empire. The resulting war was a bloody and intensively volatile conflict, as man and machine fought for racial superiority; entire planets were obliterated, billions died, and by the end of it there was nothing but radioactive ashes and ruins.

On the surface of Mars, the last bastion of humanity, survivors continue the battle against their machine adversaries in what has now become a war of mutually assured extinction. Prometheus is slain, destroyed long ago in a system-wide bombardment, but its creations still vie to complete their original mission parameters.

There can be no diplomacy, there can be no mercy; there can only be Final Victory.

It is the year 3278 A.D, and the Promethean Remnant has finally scrambled enough of its shattered robotic legions to launch what will be the last offensive of this centuries old conflict. Mars has been surrounded by orbital fleets of A.I carriers, that have unleashed wave upon wave of transport craft to convey the Remnant's final strike to the surface.

City 09, once a grand metropolis and a symbol of humanity's pinnacle, is the first Remnant target - due to its large underground civilian presence - and it falls to the Rangers to mobilise their forces and stave off the inevitable. Hidden planetary batteries have opened up on the inbound Remnant transports, and platoons of Rangers have holed themselves up in defensive locations. However, one by one the guns are being silenced, and soon the few will have to stand against the many; the fathers against the sons.

Choose your team, charge your weapons, and move out commanders!

---

Incoming Data Feed...

City 09 District 34 Situational Map

Be Warned: The Dropzone is where the majority of Remnant transports are disgorging their robotic troops; it would be suicide to assail this position directly.

---

The Promthean Remnant: Androids, cyborgs, flying gunships, fifty-feet tall mechs, wheels, bidepals, quadrupedals, there's no coherence to the enemy forces. The last of humanity is literally facing down the last of their robotic children, in a desperate struggle for Final Victory.

Some of the machines have been modified over the years, to reflect the drop in diminished system-wide resources, and use kinnetic projectile weapons (such as machine guns!), but others have retained their deadly laser and plasma weaponry.

They know no emotion, no fear, and have no trouble making suicidal attacks on entrenched positions.

The Rangers: Ancestors of humanity's vast fleets and armies, the Rangers are the last gasp of organised military resistance to the Remnant threat. Typically, they are special forces teams used to scour irradiated ruins for much sought after supplies, and are also relied on to put down civil dissent - usually without mercy.

Like the remnants, their armaments vary drastically. Some carry around assault rifles reminiscent of the 21st century, whilst others rely on high-tec laser cannons and power armour. In this bleak future, a man uses what he can get his hands on.

Saints or sinners, bastards or legends, it matters little. They are the first and final line of defence against the Remnant - their failure to hold the ruins will spell the beginning of a very brief end.

---

Game Rules

In-Game Specifics:

• The Remnants are launching a city-wide assault. Attack drones prowl the skies, and orbital drop droids are landing randomly across the ruins.
  
  However, the Dropzone seen the map of district 34, is the main staging area of the Remnant assault in the players' vicinity. It is from here that hundreds - if not thousands - of robotic troops will amass before launching attacks against the Rangers' strong points.
  
  Aside from this, drop droids will attempt to outflank the Rangers, by deploying anywhere they choose and gathering in groups.
• The Rangers understand the importance of defeating the Remnant invasion, and even conscripts will see the pointlessness in running from the battle. It all ends here; everyone understands that.
• The armies of the Remnants are far from indestructable, and have suffered in quality as much as the humans. Some will be relatively easy to destroy, whilst others might take a few missiles - it depends on how big they are, and what they're comprised of.
• There's no lore to weapons or armour in play here, so just think "post-apocalpytic sci-fi" when describing the weapons and armour in use.
• There's no "bestiary" for the Remnant forces. Players are free to imagine their foe as they see fit.
• Game ends after four weeks of real time. If the RP dies before that, then City 09 falls. Not that you'd care of course. If the players hold on long enough, the battle will shift locations, allowing you to transfer your heroes to a new front.
• Players can pair up under one unit (i.e joint command or a commander/lieutenant relationship).
• Units have no access to armoured vehicles or air support, but I will allow for a few supporting or light vehicles, such as armoured cars or small piloted mechs.
• There are NPC human dropships that can be called in to ferry characters/units around at will, allowing you to reinforce a beleaguered player.

Out of Game Rules:

• This is a chill RP that's easy on the mind. Enjoy yourself.
• Romance has been known to blossom in times of war, but keep that seedy stuff to your PMs... and also forward me copies for "science" ;)
• The above was a joke.
• This game is solely a COOP PVE experience. Don't direct mortar fire at another character because you don't like them; it wont work.
• Commanders cannot die, without player permission. Important in friendly-fire scenarios.
• Lieutenants can die, no permission needed. Important in friendly-fire scenarios.
• I want to play, as opposed to GM the whole thing. I will intervene in disputes and resolve impasses, but otherwise, I just wanna be one of you guys.
• Try, TRY, to hold on for the four weeks. I know how easily you lot get bored.

---

Unit Sheets

Commander

This is your main character, your untouchable protagonist.

Name:

Age:

Gender:

Appearance:

Rank:

Personality:

Background:

Armour: From ballistic vests, laser retardant alloys and power armour.

Primary Weapon:

Secondary Weapon:

Melee Weapon:

Grenades:

Equipment:

Lieutenants

These are your major NPCs. Have as many as you want.

Name:

Age:

Gender:

Appearance:

Rank:

Personality (Optional):

Background (Optional):

Armour:

Primary Weapon:

Secondary Weapon:

Melee Weapon:

Grenades:

Equipment:

Your Soldiers

Unit Type: Conscripts, Veterans, Elites.

Size of Unit: Squad (12 men), Platoon (24 men), Company (72 men) - or create your own custom unit.

Unit Name: i.e The Fighting First/2nd Ranger Company

Unit Speciality: Mechanised warfare, special operations, infantry, combat engineers, assault troopers etc etc

Uniform and Armour: The uniform and armour commonly worn by your troops, that distinguishes them from other units.

Primary Weaponry:

Secondary Weaponry:

Melee Weaponry:

Anti-Tank Weaponry:

Anti-Air Weaponry:

Other Equipment:

Your Defensive Location:

Location on Map:

Defensive Preparations: Barricaded doors? Land mines around the grounds? Barbed wire and sandbags? Concrete barriers?

Big Guns: Planetary anti-air weaponry? Turrets and howitzers?

Alamo: If the Remnants break through your lines, where will you make your stand? What preparations have been made for this eventuality? An example would be the top floor of an office building, or a hardy ruin at the rear of your area of operations.

The Watchers

Captain Leafy was the first to enter, walking with the kind of swagger and bravado that spoke volumes as to the sort of man he was: moronic. It was wholly unwise to presume so much upon yourself; you'd have better luck just pasting a big red target on your back. He'd be the first to go down, if Ulrin Grimsparrow encountered him in the field. You can't let a walking meat train like that breathe for too long, because it'll inspire his peers to take on like-minded lunacy, which in turn could cause a sea of nonsense right when you didn't need it. With a bolt in his neck, the men would realise their invincible hero was just an idiot with a big axe, nothing more, and fear would take them.

Men did not like being reminded that they weren't special, that any life could be snatched at the teasing of a trigger.

Still, that the Captain had survived as long as he had, doing what he did, and spurning promotions like a true martyr to morondom, was somewhat of a surprise to Ulrin when all things were considered; indeed, he felt himself doubting his initial analysis, if only for a second. Brave and skilled warrior, or a walking abomination from the realm of Luck, it mattered little - the Captain would no doubt have his uses in the times to come, even if that just meant using him as a distraction.

And who was this pretty little creature? Oh! Indus Horologium, of course. The aspiring soldierette, and what a wonderful set of armour she was wearing. Ulrin allowed himself a snicker, finding her youthful ambition amusing. Sadly, she'd learn soon enough that it wasn't the gleam in a breastplate or the dye of your cloak that kept the enemy away, no, it was your preparedness to sink to any level to ensure you walked away from the battle - not they. He'd seen men join the army, all with that same silly enthusiasm, and he'd seen them leave a hundred years older with gaunt cheeks and dead eyes. War could do terrible things to someone, if they were not prepared to do what had to be done.

Aside from her ambition and her cute little outfit, Ulrin knew little else about her; his probings into the matter were met only with a few bits and pieces, but nothing solid. She was a skilled fighter, known for reckless acts which he assumed was associated with her apparent want of advancement. Recklessness could be a hindrance, but it could also be a problem solver. He'd have to study her further, and establish her worth.

Ezri Annabelle Hartwig was next, another soldier from another solidering family. Ulrin detected a certain masculinity to her gait, something he doubted she'd picked up in the drill yards; her father most likely had a hand in her training from a young age. People were impressionable when they were young, more likely to emulate their betters on a subconscious level. He'd no doubt that she was walking into this thing with the means to do some serious damage to some serious people, but unfortunately, he knew even less about her than he did Indus. Perhaps he was getting lazy, or perhaps she was very much an unknown.

A woman, a Hartwig no less, with the hint of a man's strength to her movements. It could go either way.

The trio marched by Ulrin, and he glanced up at them - disguised as he was in the bed of a lazily left aside wheel barrow. After the two guards had escorted them off, Ulrin emerged from his soil-ridden grave and gave quiet pursuit. Now that he'd seen his fellow contestants in what was no doubt an exercise in political intrigue, it was time to meet the Game Master.

Emerging between Ezri and Indus, Ulrin pushed by them with a brief "excuse me," and slumped himself into the nearest seat - a few spaces down from Captain Moron. "Your grace," he said with a slight smile and a bow of the head towards the King. "Scout Chief Grimsparrow, present as requested."