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Infectious: Zone B Archives

Hey all, afraid I have bad news. Things are getting busy for me lately and I'm afraid I'm gonna have to drop out before we get too far along. Hope y'all understand! Hope you guys have fun!

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Infectious: Zone B Archives

Amos

Amos

Age: 43
Gender: Male
Class: Loner
Occupation: Wandering Priest

Personality: Amos is a somber and sullen man. He’s a man who’s lost much and it’s changed him in ways that most people today can relate to. Amos is a serious type, he has few words but he chooses them carefully and never wastes them. Amos appears to fear little and feel little. Those who have travelled with him for a while however tell tales about a man who always knows what to say. A man who, despite everything, holds out hope for the future. He’s a man of unshakeable faith, he trusts in his God to provide everything he needs to survive and thus far, He has provided.

Amos, however, seems cold and distant to many and travelling with him might not seem like the most exciting. He has a penchant for not planning ahead, relying more on impromptu revelations which have kept him alive thus far. Amos is a man seemingly unconcerned with his own life; however, in the pursuit of his calling he has been known to rush headlong into danger. One of the few times Amos is emotive is when someone is in trouble.

Background: Very few people know anything about Amos. He’s been a loner since the beginning – a long eight years – during that time many people have met him but very few have gotten to know the man personally. Those who have met Amos will tell you many things. That he had a large family and lost them all to the end of the world and now he wanders the wastelands awaiting his own death only he can never seem to find it. Others might tell you that he came from far the west bringing a message of hope and salvation for a new generation born after the collapse. But the truth is much less glamorous.

Amos was born on the banks of the Mississippi River in a small town in rural Louisiana. His mother had seven children, of which he was the youngest. As a single mother, she worked two jobs to support her burgeoning household. She worked as a seamstress and also as a receptionist at an old motel. She worked hard her whole life and if you asked her it was well worth it to see her seven sons and daughters grow up to have their own families.

Amos, as the youngest child, was also the most-often picked upon. From a young age he learned that to get anywhere he had to take what was his and never let it go. Whether it was food at the dinner table or the journal he kept his most private thoughts in, Amos never let go. As the youngest child, he was also the one who got stuck with the hand-me-downs. His first day of school he went into the classroom wearing pair of blue jeans with a patch sewn on the seat of them. The kids in his classroom teased him so hard that he went home to momma crying about it.

The next day he went to school wearing a brand-new pair of blue jeans bought for him by his eldest brother, Marquise. Marquise as the eldest brother grew up with a great deal of responsibility, but he took special pity on young Amos. As luck would have it, Marquise was exactly the kind of male role model Amos needed. Marquise made his living crawfishing in the Mississippi River and when Amos was out of school and old enough to go out on his own, Marquise would bring him on-board to help with the fishing.

When he was in school, however, Amos didn’t do too well. His school was poorly funded because it was in the middle of a poor, rural district. On top of that, Amos was never all that bright in the first place. When he was sixteen years old he dropped out of high school to work full time on his brother’s fishing boat. For many years he and his brother pulled in pot after pot teeming with crawdads.

However, after about five years, Marquise’s health started to go south. In the middle of August, he finally succumbed to a bad case of influenza. It would be years before Amos realized that his brother had been HIV positive and that’s eventually what killed him. At his funeral, Amos wept and wailed, mourning the death of his beloved brother. His neighborhood preacher knelt down beside him, laid his hand on his back, and told him, “Now son, ain’t no reason to cry. Your brother, he’s in a much better place now. A place where he is free of suffering. A glorious mansion in the sky,” and he patted his back and stood back up to console the other members of Marquise’s grieving family.

When he got home, Amos did something he had rarely had done before. He dusted off his momma’s old leather-bound bible and he sat down to read it and he took notes. He memorized the scriptures and he read through the book so many times that the leather got a long crease down the middle. He kept on working on the crawfish boat and saving up money until one day he sat down beside his momma and told her that he was going back to school. “I’m gonna be a preacher,” he said. His momma broke down into tears, tears of joy, mind you. She gave him a big, long hug and said, “You’ll make me so proud.”

Amos got his GED and he got into seminary school. It was hard at first but well worth it. Amos applied himself and when he was 28 years old he graduated magna cum laude with his bachelor’s degree in biblical studies and at long last his vision of becoming a preacher came true. He moved up river to Tennessee to pursue a position at a Baptist church in the western part of the state. That’s where he was when the End came.

Like many people when our society began to collapse, the first thing they did was try to locate their loved ones. For Amos, however, that meant travelling many, many miles to his momma’s house in rural Louisiana with his pregnant wife and two kids in-tow. Unfortunately, there was little he could do in his situation. So, he and his family and several members of his congregation met in the Baptist church to ride out the worst of it. Only, the worst of it never passed.

They didn’t have much food beyond what was left in the kitchen of the fellowship hall and once the communion wafers and grape juice were gone, the church was totally out of food within a week. Amos left the church to try and find food, the stores were closed and the streets were empty, he snuck in and filled a backpack full of food and pain relievers for his wife. By the time he returned it was too late.

The half-hour it took him to leave the church and come back was time enough for the infection to spread into the church and take everyone inside with it. Amos tried to reconcile with his wife but she was gone. He changed after that, he travelled down the Mississippi on an old boat to find his momma’s house and maybe what was left of his family. He found nothing.

The house was empty, a note taped to the glass storm door. It said, “Amos, we love you, we’re sorry we can’t stay no longer. We have to go now, we’re taking the old crawfish boat, we’re gonna sail south until we hit land. Love, your sister Dee.”

Amos was changed after that. No longer the goofball family man he used to be. He turned, empty. A husk of what he once was. He had nowhere to go from there. He made due in old family house for a while but he ran out of supplies, he had to keep moving. He prayed and he prayed and he came to a realization.

He came to realize that, perhaps, him leaving the church when he did or him not making it to the old family house before they left, maybe those weren’t mistakes. Maybe he was being saved so he could serve a purpose. So, he wanders, searching for that purpose. Searching for a meaning to all this. He doesn’t know where his next meal is coming from but he’s certain that he won’t die until he fulfills that purpose he’s been called to.

I suppose in a way he is searching for his own death, a release. But he sure as Hell ain’t found it yet.

Goal: To fulfill his purpose in this life and finally find rest.
Equipment: A sturdy and straight walking stick, a tattered leather jacket, a journal, two pencils, a hunting knife, a leather-bound Bible, a .22 rifle, 18 .22 rounds, an internal frame hiking pack, a fire-starter, two hard plastic water bottles, several re-sealable plastic bags (filled with cooked meat, foraged nuts and berries), aluminum cookware
Weapons: Staff (specialized): No matter what the threat is, Amos’ go-to weapon is his trusty walking stick. Always by his side and ready to go.

Rifle (secondary): Admittedly, the .22 rifle is weak as a defense weapon, but for hunting small game it gets the job done.

Knife (secondary): As a last resort. His knife isn’t built for fighting, but in a pinch it could come in handy.

Skills: Expert Staff, Advanced Survival, Advanced Persuasion, Adept Cooking, Adept Long guns, Novice First Aid, Novice Knifes

Family: Wife, Annabelle: Deceased

Daughter, Jessica: Deceased

Son, Adam: Deceased

Brother, Marquise: Deceased

Other siblings: Unknown

Mother: Unknown

Miscellaneous:

Infectious: Zone B Archives

A M O S
5 Days' Hike West of Raleigh

The sun was just rising over the wide, empty fields, reflecting off the morning’s dew. Amos was wide awake and he walked down a muddy, unpaved road. His feet sloshed through the mud as he pulled himself alongside his trusty walking stick. His pack was strapped firmly to his back and his boots tightly bound to his feet. Sloshing, sloshing, sloshing. Amos didn’t seem to mind the noise he made as he trudged along the empty dirt road. Eventually Amos came across a trailhead; he stopped for a second to look at the map posted there. With his finger he traced along the protective Plexiglas to find the route he would take to the edge of the lake nearby.

In less than half an hour he reached his goal, he stooped down alongside a creek, rest his pack against a tree stump, and sat down alongside it. Amos leaned back his head and took a long breath, letting the smell of the pine trees flood his senses. Deep breaths in and deep breaths out. He closed his eyes to focus, to meditate. In that moment nothing moved besides his own chest, in and out, slowly but surely, and the nearby creek, babbling and bubbling beside him. Its cool water flowed over perfectly smooth rocks, weathered away by the force of the river. The brook flows and flows from its spring in the west into the rivers and oceans in the east. It is unstoppable but not unchanging.

Quite the opposite, the brook might not always flow the same way but it is constant in that it flows, it is living. A sapling, young and spry, can be manipulated in many different shapes, but when it is old and dying it hardens up and becomes unmalleable. Flexibility is the key to living, Amos noted. All things which live must be able to change or they will be crushed by a force far greater than they are. Like the stone in the river, the hardest person will be chipped away at by the never ending flow of time. But if a person, like a tree, can sway and bend a little to the winds of change they too can remain whole.

Amos opened his journal and jotted down his meditations with an old pencil before flipping open his old Bible in front of him. He recited from the Book of Matthew, before noting the chapter in his journal as well:

“Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”

When he had finished he closed both books, tucked them away in his pack and removed a bag filled with lean meat which he had cooked the night prior. He bit into the cold meat and swallowed it back. It was tough, chewy, and almost flavorless. Amos, however, didn’t seem to mind. When he had finished his breakfast he threw his pack on again and strapped it down tight. He took up his walking stick and returned back to the trailhead before walking back down the road.

“Guide me Lord,” he said out-loud, “Take me to where you need me to be.”

And with that Amos was off, walking along the muddy road alone, searching for a sign that he’s in the right place. But as of yet, he had not found any.

Infectious: Zone B Archives

Hey guys! Just a heads up that I am working on a post but it's slowly coming.

Infectious: Zone B Archives

Amos

Amos

Age: 43
Gender: Male
Class: Loner
Occupation: Wandering Priest

Personality: Amos is a somber and sullen man. He’s a man who’s lost much and it’s changed him in ways that most people today can relate to. Amos is a serious type, he has few words but he chooses them carefully and never wastes them. Amos appears to fear little and feel little. Those who have travelled with him for a while however tell tales about a man who always knows what to say. A man who, despite everything, holds out hope for the future. He’s a man of unshakeable faith, he trusts in his God to provide everything he needs to survive and thus far, He has provided.

Amos, however, seems cold and distant to many and travelling with him might not seem like the most exciting. He has a penchant for not planning ahead, relying more on impromptu revelations which have kept him alive thus far. Amos is a man seemingly unconcerned with his own life; however, in the pursuit of his calling he has been known to rush headlong into danger. One of the few times Amos is emotive is when someone is in trouble.

Background: Very few people know anything about Amos. He’s been a loner since the beginning – a long eight years – during that time many people have met him but very few have gotten to know the man personally. Those who have met Amos will tell you many things. That he had a large family and lost them all to the end of the world and now he wanders the wastelands awaiting his own death only he can never seem to find it. Others might tell you that he came from far the west bringing a message of hope and salvation for a new generation born after the collapse. But the truth is much less glamorous.

Amos was born on the banks of the Mississippi River in a small town in rural Louisiana. His mother had seven children, of which he was the youngest. As a single mother, she worked two jobs to support her burgeoning household. She worked as a seamstress and also as a receptionist at an old motel. She worked hard her whole life and if you asked her it was well worth it to see her seven sons and daughters grow up to have their own families.

Amos, as the youngest child, was also the most-often picked upon. From a young age he learned that to get anywhere he had to take what was his and never let it go. Whether it was food at the dinner table or the journal he kept his most private thoughts in, Amos never let go. As the youngest child, he was also the one who got stuck with the hand-me-downs. His first day of school he went into the classroom wearing pair of blue jeans with a patch sewn on the seat of them. The kids in his classroom teased him so hard that he went home to momma crying about it.

The next day he went to school wearing a brand-new pair of blue jeans bought for him by his eldest brother, Marquise. Marquise as the eldest brother grew up with a great deal of responsibility, but he took special pity on young Amos. As luck would have it, Marquise was exactly the kind of male role model Amos needed. Marquise made his living crawfishing in the Mississippi River and when Amos was out of school and old enough to go out on his own, Marquise would bring him on-board to help with the fishing.

When he was in school, however, Amos didn’t do too well. His school was poorly funded because it was in the middle of a poor, rural district. On top of that, Amos was never all that bright in the first place. When he was sixteen years old he dropped out of high school to work full time on his brother’s fishing boat. For many years he and his brother pulled in pot after pot teeming with crawdads.

However, after about five years, Marquise’s health started to go south. In the middle of August, he finally succumbed to a bad case of influenza. It would be years before Amos realized that his brother had been HIV positive and that’s eventually what killed him. At his funeral, Amos wept and wailed, mourning the death of his beloved brother. His neighborhood preacher knelt down beside him, laid his hand on his back, and told him, “Now son, ain’t no reason to cry. Your brother, he’s in a much better place now. A place where he is free of suffering. A glorious mansion in the sky,” and he patted his back and stood back up to console the other members of Marquise’s grieving family.

When he got home, Amos did something he had rarely had done before. He dusted off his momma’s old leather-bound bible and he sat down to read it and he took notes. He memorized the scriptures and he read through the book so many times that the leather got a long crease down the middle. He kept on working on the crawfish boat and saving up money until one day he sat down beside his momma and told her that he was going back to school. “I’m gonna be a preacher,” he said. His momma broke down into tears, tears of joy, mind you. She gave him a big, long hug and said, “You’ll make me so proud.”

Amos got his GED and he got into seminary school. It was hard at first but well worth it. Amos applied himself and when he was 28 years old he graduated magna cum laude with his bachelor’s degree in biblical studies and at long last his vision of becoming a preacher came true. He moved up river to Tennessee to pursue a position at a Baptist church in the western part of the state. That’s where he was when the End came.

Like many people when our society began to collapse, the first thing they did was try to locate their loved ones. For Amos, however, that meant travelling many, many miles to his momma’s house in rural Louisiana with his pregnant wife and two kids in-tow. Unfortunately, there was little he could do in his situation. So, he and his family and several members of his congregation met in the Baptist church to ride out the worst of it. Only, the worst of it never passed.

They didn’t have much food beyond what was left in the kitchen of the fellowship hall and once the communion wafers and grape juice were gone, the church was totally out of food within a week. Amos left the church to try and find food, the stores were closed and the streets were empty, he snuck in and filled a backpack full of food and pain relievers for his wife. By the time he returned it was too late.

The half-hour it took him to leave the church and come back was time enough for the infection to spread into the church and take everyone inside with it. Amos tried to reconcile with his wife but she was gone. He changed after that, he travelled down the Mississippi on an old boat to find his momma’s house and maybe what was left of his family. He found nothing.

The house was empty, a note taped to the glass storm door. It said, “Amos, we love you, we’re sorry we can’t stay no longer. We have to go now, we’re taking the old crawfish boat, we’re gonna sail south until we hit land. Love, your sister Dee.”

Amos was changed after that. No longer the goofball family man he used to be. He turned, empty. A husk of what he once was. He had nowhere to go from there. He made due in old family house for a while but he ran out of supplies, he had to keep moving. He prayed and he prayed and he came to a realization.

He came to realize that, perhaps, him leaving the church when he did or him not making it to the old family house before they left, maybe those weren’t mistakes. Maybe he was being saved so he could serve a purpose. So, he wanders, searching for that purpose. Searching for a meaning to all this. He doesn’t know where his next meal is coming from but he’s certain that he won’t die until he fulfills that purpose he’s been called to.

I suppose in a way he is searching for his own death, a release. But he sure as Hell ain’t found it yet.

Goal: To fulfill his purpose in this life and finally find rest.
Equipment: A sturdy and straight walking stick, a tattered leather jacket, a journal, two pencils, a hunting knife, a leather-bound Bible, a .22 rifle, 18 .22 rounds, an internal frame hiking pack, a fire-starter, two hard plastic water bottles, several re-sealable plastic bags (filled with cooked meat, foraged nuts and berries), aluminum cookware
Weapons: Staff (specialized): No matter what the threat is, Amos’ go-to weapon is his trusty walking stick. Always by his side and ready to go.

Rifle (secondary): Admittedly, the .22 rifle is weak as a defense weapon, but for hunting small game it gets the job done.

Knife (secondary): As a last resort. His knife isn’t built for fighting, but in a pinch it could come in handy.

Skills: Expert Staff, Advanced Survival, Advanced Persuasion, Adept Cooking, Adept Long guns, Novice First Aid, Novice Knifes

Family: Wife, Annabelle: Deceased

Daughter, Jessica: Deceased

Son, Adam: Deceased

Brother, Marquise: Deceased

Other siblings: Unknown

Mother: Unknown

Miscellaneous:

Infectious: Zone B Archives

So I think I got a pretty decent character fleshed out!

Amos

Amos

Age: 43
Gender: Male
Class: Loner
Occupation: Wandering Priest

Personality: Amos is a somber and sullen man. He’s a man who’s lost much and it’s changed him in ways that most people today can relate to. Amos is a serious type, he has few words but he chooses them carefully and never wastes them. Amos appears to fear little and feel little. Those who have travelled with him for a while however tell tales about a man who always knows what to say. A man who, despite everything, holds out hope for the future. He’s a man of unshakeable faith, he trusts in his God to provide everything he needs to survive and thus far, He has provided.

Amos, however, seems cold and distant to many and travelling with him might not seem like the most exciting. He has a penchant for not planning ahead, relying more on impromptu revelations which have kept him alive thus far. Amos is a man seemingly unconcerned with his own life; however, in the pursuit of his calling he has been known to rush headlong into danger. One of the few times Amos is emotive is when someone is in trouble.

Background: Very few people know anything about Amos. He’s been a loner since the beginning – a long eight years – during that time many people have met him but very few have gotten to know the man personally. Those who have met Amos will tell you many things. That he had a large family and lost them all to the end of the world and now he wanders the wastelands awaiting his own death only he can never seem to find it. Others might tell you that he came from far the west bringing a message of hope and salvation for a new generation born after the collapse. But the truth is much less glamorous.

Amos was born on the banks of the Mississippi River in a small town in rural Louisiana. His mother had seven children, of which he was the youngest. As a single mother, she worked two jobs to support her burgeoning household. She worked as a seamstress and also as a receptionist at an old motel. She worked hard her whole life and if you asked her it was well worth it to see her seven sons and daughters grow up to have their own families.

Amos, as the youngest child, was also the most-often picked upon. From a young age he learned that to get anywhere he had to take what was his and never let it go. Whether it was food at the dinner table or the journal he kept his most private thoughts in, Amos never let go. As the youngest child, he was also the one who got stuck with the hand-me-downs. His first day of school he went into the classroom wearing pair of blue jeans with a patch sewn on the seat of them. The kids in his classroom teased him so hard that he went home to momma crying about it.

The next day he went to school wearing a brand-new pair of blue jeans bought for him by his eldest brother, Marquise. Marquise as the eldest brother grew up with a great deal of responsibility, but he took special pity on young Amos. As luck would have it, Marquise was exactly the kind of male role model Amos needed. Marquise made his living crawfishing in the Mississippi River and when Amos was out of school and old enough to go out on his own, Marquise would bring him on-board to help with the fishing.

When he was in school, however, Amos didn’t do too well. His school was poorly funded because it was in the middle of a poor, rural district. On top of that, Amos was never all that bright in the first place. When he was sixteen years old he dropped out of high school to work full time on his brother’s fishing boat. For many years he and his brother pulled in pot after pot teeming with crawdads.

However, after about five years, Marquise’s health started to go south. In the middle of August, he finally succumbed to a bad case of influenza. It would be years before Amos realized that his brother had been HIV positive and that’s eventually what killed him. At his funeral, Amos wept and wailed, mourning the death of his beloved brother. His neighborhood preacher knelt down beside him, laid his hand on his back, and told him, “Now son, ain’t no reason to cry. Your brother, he’s in a much better place now. A place where he is free of suffering. A glorious mansion in the sky,” and he patted his back and stood back up to console the other members of Marquise’s grieving family.

When he got home, Amos did something he had rarely had done before. He dusted off his momma’s old leather-bound bible and he sat down to read it and he took notes. He memorized the scriptures and he read through the book so many times that the leather got a long crease down the middle. He kept on working on the crawfish boat and saving up money until one day he sat down beside his momma and told her that he was going back to school. “I’m gonna be a preacher,” he said. His momma broke down into tears, tears of joy, mind you. She gave him a big, long hug and said, “You’ll make me so proud.”

Amos got his GED and he got into seminary school. It was hard at first but well worth it. Amos applied himself and when he was 28 years old he graduated magna cum laude with his bachelor’s degree in biblical studies and at long last his vision of becoming a preacher came true. He moved up river to Tennessee to pursue a position at a Baptist church in the western part of the state. That’s where he was when the End came.

Like many people when our society began to collapse, the first thing they did was try to locate their loved ones. For Amos, however, that meant travelling many, many miles to his momma’s house in rural Louisiana with his pregnant wife and two kids in-tow. Unfortunately, there was little he could do in his situation. So, he and his family and several members of his congregation met in the Baptist church to ride out the worst of it. Only, the worst of it never passed.

They didn’t have much food beyond what was left in the kitchen of the fellowship hall and once the communion wafers and grape juice were gone, the church was totally out of food within a week. Amos left the church to try and find food, the stores were closed and the streets were empty, he snuck in and filled a backpack full of food and pain relievers for his wife. By the time he returned it was too late.

The half-hour it took him to leave the church and come back was time enough for the infection to spread into the church and take everyone inside with it. Amos tried to reconcile with his wife but she was gone. He changed after that, he travelled down the Mississippi on an old boat to find his momma’s house and maybe what was left of his family. He found nothing.

The house was empty, a note taped to the glass storm door. It said, “Amos, we love you, we’re sorry we can’t stay no longer. We have to go now, we’re taking the old crawfish boat, we’re gonna sail south until we hit land. Love, your sister Dee.”

Amos was changed after that. No longer the goofball family man he used to be. He turned, empty. A husk of what he once was. He had nowhere to go from there. He made due in old family house for a while but he ran out of supplies, he had to keep moving. He prayed and he prayed and he came to a realization.

He came to realize that, perhaps, him leaving the church when he did or him not making it to the old family house before they left, maybe those weren’t mistakes. Maybe he was being saved so he could serve a purpose. So, he wanders, searching for that purpose. Searching for a meaning to all this. He doesn’t know where his next meal is coming from but he’s certain that he won’t die until he fulfills that purpose he’s been called to.

I suppose in a way he is searching for his own death, a release. But he sure as Hell ain’t found it yet.

Goal: To fulfill his purpose in this life and finally find rest.
Equipment: A sturdy and straight walking stick, a tattered leather jacket, a journal, two pencils, a hunting knife, a leather-bound Bible, a .22 rifle, 18 .22 rounds, an internal frame hiking pack, a fire-starter, two hard plastic water bottles, several re-sealable plastic bags (filled with cooked meat, foraged nuts and berries), aluminum cookware
Weapons: Staff (specialized): No matter what the threat is, Amos’ go-to weapon is his trusty walking stick. Always by his side and ready to go.

Rifle (secondary): Admittedly, the .22 rifle is weak as a defense weapon, but for hunting small game it gets the job done.

Knife (secondary): As a last resort. His knife isn’t built for fighting, but in a pinch it could come in handy.

Skills: Expert Staff, Advanced Survival, Advanced Persuasion, Adept Cooking, Adept Long guns, Novice First Aid, Novice Knifes

Family: Wife, Annabelle: Deceased

Daughter, Jessica: Deceased

Son, Adam: Deceased

Brother, Marquise: Deceased

Other siblings: Unknown

Mother: Unknown

Miscellaneous:

Infectious: Zone B Archives

Hello everyone! I'm assuming there's still room for one more? This looks really neat and I'd like to join.

Pristine Earth (Civilization Rebirth RP)

This sounds pretty interesting, I'll draw up a character too.

Game of Thrones

Apologies, all. But something's come up and I don't think that I'll be able to post regularly enough so I think I'll be dropping out before we get started. Have fun, though! I might come back to read some more.

Game of Thrones

@Cold If you're still interested, I play Yronwood and I could take a minor Martell into the household.