Lady Selune

Gurr'Kha - The Dead World

@FalloutJack

She's not drunk.

She's insane and drunk.

Gurr'Kha - The Dead World

@Gordoth

Hope I nailed the 'creepy and now has no sense of social life' aspects whilst also not making her totally batshit.

Gurr'Kha - The Dead World

She sat there. Her eyes were unfocused. Her mind was unfocused. Her shield was still strapped to her wrist, her axeblade embedded three inches into the table. The bartender hadn't complained. Glasses were piled around her, but she didn't feel drunk. How long was it since she had last slept? Did it matter? Did anything matter? She wanted to cry. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to do something, but instead lethargy clung to her, forcing her to pick the glass up and knock back another drink- another that she had lost count of, another that she did not think she would pay.

She needed to do something.

She needed to do something.

So she laughed. It wasn't a pleasant laugh. It wasn't a 'quaint' or 'nice,' or 'happy' or 'joyous' or 'mirthful' or 'drunken' or 'terrified' or any other thousand things. It was a laugh that started as a shriek and ended in one, earning her attention for the briefest of seconds before patrons wisely went back to drinking rather than facing the deranged woman of the church.

There was a man. Her stupor had blocked him from her mind, but there was a man. Standing up, she turned towards him, arm locked with that of a filthy, beast in the form of a green-skinned man. She grunted under her breath, and realised that in that moment she was no better than that beast. She reached for her axe's handle, grabbed onto it. Tugged at it. It wouldn't come loose. She snarled at the inanimate object. She grabbed onto it more firmly, and then she gripped it as hard as she could, wrenching at it with the sort of strength that a woman was not meant to have inside of her. The damned axeblade still would not budge.

She would have to put more effort in. Grabbing the handle with a different grip, she brought the table crashing down to the floor. A plate-shod boot slammed into the wood, and she strained her back to yank it out, working it back and forth through the wood. The bartender moved to stop her, but then it freed itself, the paladin finding herself flat on her arse but with her weapon in her hand once more. "YES!" She said, jubilant for a reason she could not recall. What was she doing? Yes, the man.

Turning, more rotating on her feet, the alcohol hit her at once. A cartful of crates crashing comfortably down upon her cranium. She stumbled, almost toppled like a tree struck for the second-to-last time, but kept herself standing through some feat of witchcraft she herself could not comprehend. She walked to the man, boots hitting the ground, and noted that another talking to him was a priest. Perhaps. The symbol spoke wonders.

She placed her hand, still with the shield on it, on the priest's shoulder, letting out another banshee's laugh. "You and me! We had eyes that are now gouged! We could see! We could laugh, we could love!" She shrieked at the top of her voice, her mirth so great that the alcohol finally dealt the toppling blow, and she fell on her rear once more, head slamming against the front of the bar. She had a stronger head than that though, to be so casually dispatched.

Her shield thumped against the stone flagstones of the tavern as she stood. The man that was offering a job. She stood uncomfortably close to him, her face so close that a lover might wonder if she was going for a kiss, but she wasn't. "Work, you offer?"

Gurr'Kha - The Dead World

@Gordoth

I had marked it as 'Work In Progress, I hadn't gotten around to finishing the backstory. She's all done now- thoughts?

Gurr'Kha - The Dead World

Done

Name: Galdari Thornmyre
Age: 23
Race: Human
Sex: Female
Description: Once, not so long ago even, Galdari was a warm and smiling face. Homely, even, if one could ignore the muscles that were required of a warrior of the faith. Twinkling eyes and a slight ruddiness to her cheeks not brought about by alcohol, but by mirth. That was a week ago. Not to mention the fact that she was definitely eating well- plenty of muscle and fat alike on her bones. A lot has changed in a week however. Where once there was mass, already it is now horrifyingly skinny. Her long brown hair, once shiny and lustrous, is now half-shaved and sickly. The half of her head that wasn't shaved has been left long, leaving it to tumble down the bare side in a strange style.

Ideally, a paladin's armour should never be stained. Hers, even before the apocalypse arrived, was slightly dinged up and dirty, but now is truly showing wear. The plate is gouged and some of the chain links are busted, but much of it is still relatively shiny and clean. The nicest of her equipment still is her weapons- a one-handed axe and her circular shield. She clings to these like a drowning man does a piece of wood, the holy symbol once proudly displayed around her neck now hastily stuffed and concealed away.

Those same eyes that once twinkled so brightly have been turned into sunken messes. Her mind is fragmented- held together by the barest string of sanity, but still she perseveres. For what reason she does not know, but as long as she can hold her tools, she perseveres.

Notable Belongings:

• Dustbringer, a plough reforged into a once-holy axeblade. Now reflects Galdari’s mind, in that it’s jagged and not quite right. Still holds some magic.
• A shield made from the wood of a cart. Circular, bossed and sturdy. Nothing magical about it.
• Full plate. A simple, steel set of armour.
• Symbol of the Goddess of Farming.

Backstory: Every child born into a farming community knows that they live and die on the harvest. The goddess of the farm then, is one of the most important to almost every peasant evet to live. Galdari was the daughter of a miller- growing up on a diet that allowed her to pack on some weight, and with enough physicality that she could hold her own in an arm wrestle. Pious and relatively pure, she was signed on to her local temple when she was twelve, and served there faithfully.

At first, her duties were mundane and boring. Scrubbing the temple floors. Replacing the rushes. Then they got more complicated. She sharpened blades for the paladins, mended the tapestries on the walls and ferried meals to and fro about the temple. When she was sixteen, she took up the mantle of a paladin-in-training, a role that mostly required her to walk about a lot around fields and occasionally kill the odd wolf or bear that poached from the flocks.

Now however, the warrior is anything but holy. Without her goddess, she wanders lost, no faith to cling to or temple to fall back on. Anything, however, is better than staying home. She must press on.

Post apocalyptic roleplay in a medieval fantasy setting: Gurr'Kha - The Dead World

Definitely playing a somewhat sane paladin who is basically now reduced to hitting things good for money.

Lady Selune Wishes to RP With You! [Always Looking] [Ignore Post Count (It's All Bumps)]

OwO I'd like people to write with.

Original Roleplay - Bloody Petals Fall - A Knight Roleplay

I'm intrigued, I must say.

Welcome to the Weirdest World War

Still looking.

Lady Selune Wishes to RP With You! [Always Looking] [Ignore Post Count (It's All Bumps)]

Above is a perfect example of what not to do.