Current
2 more days and I will return to full availability
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8 yrs ago
I will be gone for a week.
8 yrs ago
Roleplaying involves a commitment to others. And if you cannot keep that commitment I'd ask you to be honest with youself and just say so. It's by far the least painful way of leaving an rp.
9 yrs ago
I'm back in business baby
9 yrs ago
I will be gone for the following week. Posts are possible, but one should not count on it.
Sorry for the sudden disappearance; however, I will drop out of this game. I have been gone too long to catch up. I hope that this roleplay is successful.
failure to commit, time to save face with generic apologies... welcome to the hundreds of other shmucks that do these things club.
@Willy Vereb so boss, you gonna post anytime soon? My neck of the woods is quite starved for action and it looks like the whole mystrost thing died to disappearing player syndrome
wow.. activity... Shame this is what was said... it's a little late but nothing comes from giving up on anything.. I really enjoyed my time here but i fear this is already a lost cause.. still i'll give my best effort if it were to return... that is all.
I wouldn't count on it. If the GM abandons, an rp can generamly be considered dead, and considering @VKAllen revealed themselves as either incondiderate or just plain clueless we can safely sya this rp is dead and buried. I'd offer to take over but I'm overworked as it is.
So I'll be honest, I started out this rp not entirely on my own terms and I realized running an only war play by post is more than I could handle in my life as of right now. I hereby thank you all for your commitment and hope we can part ways with no hard feelings.
Another fleet beached itself not too far from the thangor's landing site. This one had come from even farther. The ships flew the black banner of an isolated island nation. They carried in their holds a wide variety of gifts, all given as a sign by goodwill by the myriad of different tribes of the blackland alliance. An entire hardwood tree trunk, uprooted by ogrish hands and carefully decorated with a spiralling pattern going from the base to the top. To untrained eyes, it was just a simple art object, so an ogrish interpreter had come along to explain the thing was a carefully composed poem extolling the virtue of the leaders of kashar, and the peaceful intent of the ogres. Similiar artifacts had been made by the other tribes. Two almost indistinguishable plates of granite, made by respectively goblins and kobolds. An engraved belt of tanned leather from the finest livestock of the gnollish nomads. Another plate of wood, carrying an even more eloquent vocabulary of words from the lizardmen made in an experiment to see how similiar their own language and customs were to the kasharites. Curiously missing from this bounty of gifts was one made by orcish hands. The orcs had decided on a more personal gift.
Bleda Ironhand,an Orcish smith of grand talent and years of experience, stood on the bow of one of the ships. In the hold rested his personal tools and a load of the finest blackland iron, ready to be shaped into whatever form the kasharite leadership desired. Martial preference in these lands wasn't well known, so the usual orcish gift of a mastercrafted weapon had some complications. Bleda had volunteered to go along with the delegation as a compromise. He had always wanted to see the world for himself, his grandfather had always regaled him with grand tales of adventure from the days of Khagn Tulida's journey to the black island. Now, he himself was going on an adventure of sorts. He looked down to the lizardwoman standing besides him. K'lan was her name, and she was the smith's apprentice. Metalcrafting was a relatively new proffession for her kin, and Bleda had jumped at the oppurtunity to teach one of their kind the trade. After all, what better way was there for him to further the alliance's ideal of unity and cultural exchange. “I wonder how the kasharites will react to seeing their distant kin... From what I heard, they have yet to feast on the fruits of technology and civilization here.”
The smith looked at his apprentice. “Of course, isn't that part of the reason we are here? Our alliance offers to share what we can with any we deem in need of such help. That were the words my Khagn spoke when he organize this delegation.”
The lizardwoman thought of her own role in the coming talks. She had heard the delegation would arrive on the day a festival would take place. It would be a good chance to forge new ties. Perhaps she could even find a male here that wouldn't mind her adventurous personality. She had gotten quite the reputation as a roublemaker in the blacklands for refusing to bow down to suitors just because they happened to be of a different gender as her. To her, such differences were no excuse to act as if one was superior to the other.
“I hear these lands are ruled by a queen... You suppose she got her station on her own merit?” The lizardwoman's eyes sparkled at the idea. Bleda shrugged his shoulders. “It's as I told you before. An axe and a sword look different, but you can fight with them all the same.” He braced himself briefly as their ship made landfall. “Now stop yapping and start unloading, we ain't got all day here.”
Blacklands send a delegation to the kashar festival to proclaim their intent at peaceful coöperation to the benefit of both sides. Also introduced some characters as central figures in this plotline. The orcish smith Bleda Ironhand, and his lizardfolk apprentice K'lan