Necrophage

Chroniker

This looks very entertaining. I won't jinx it by saying anything else. I will involve myself though.

A Lizard

NAME - Morrian

ABSTRACT - A self-taught philosopher lizard turned warrior-slave.

DETAILS - Ghurnas is the largest yet most barbaric of the nations. Ruled by stubborn warlords unwilling to set grudges aside to conquer common enemies. As a nation of warriors they force their enemies into slavery and keep them under an iron foot. They also love their blood pits and gladiatorial games, pitting slaves and professional warriors against each other. Settling grudges through duels instead of political intrigue as is most common in the world.

Morrian was born here in the savage jungles of lower Ghurnas. He's one of the beastkin that called the untamed lands home. Beastkin are humanoid beasts that are capable of shape-shifting into greater versions of their cousins. Morrian himself is a crocodile of imposing in size. Green and yellow scales with orange eyes. He always took a philosophical view on things. Despite his youthful optimism he lost the freedom that gave him wings.

The barbarians or Ghurnas invaded his small tribe. What's worse? Watching these remorseless killers wear the hide of your brethren like it were royal garments or to battle against undeserving slaves on their behalf? Morrian was untrained and though powerful by his own natural strength and size could not contend against the number of warriors that came to take the village. He was an obvious choice to be shoved into the arenas. Strong, powerful, just needed some direction and an equally powerful weapon (If his jaws didn't do the job in the first place.). The first few fights felt like mercy killing. They felt pitiful and unworthy of being warriors. Perhaps they were unworthy servants and the overlord simply wanted a means to execute them without bloodying his lazy hands. Years went on, Morrian slew warrior and slave alike. The only thing he got to look forward to was a reasonably powerful warrior to truly put him to the test. Finally as a matter of punishment for something that Morrian remained aloof of, the local overlord stood before their great lizard-beast to show his worth. He was found wanting as his blood fertilized the dead ground.

This caught the attention of the warlord. "If this beast were so powerful to best our strongest men, let us use him against Sturth." He plotted with his witch-adviser. The witch whispered in his ear things about sacrificing the beast to their god for empowerment. The warlord ever to be pulled by her whiles agreed.

Morrian was forced into the temple by a platoon of armored veterans. Wearing no more than his loincloth he was sent alone before the ungodly altar.

Tales of the Black Order (Always Accepting)

No.. just waiting for stuff to happen. Rem will literally go to sleep soon. How exciting.

Feral

What identity? The fact that he's really a fi- Oh! Gotcha. Yeah, what Pumirya said.

Tales of the Black Order (Always Accepting)

Sounds like a job for Sasha or something...

The Broken Line

Name: Ozend

Age: 26

Height: 5'11

Appearance: Ozend is a hairy fellow. Of recent days he hasn't taken much care of his appearance, he has a full brown beard and hair reaching his shoulders. His eyes are bright green and his nose is a little on the big side. His shoulders are stocky and thick and he has a build of a seasoned warrior about him.

He wears a black tunic with a hooded cloak, brown pants and large leather boots. And generally has a long sword attached to his back.

Brief Recent History: Ozend has fallen in with thieves of late for a very particular purpose that so far eludes everyone else. It explains the hooded cloak. After a sour venture he finds himself flooding his gullet with alcohol in a tavern at the city of Vanaster, not very far from the capital of Sterngate.

The Broken Line

For the sake of the role play my main character as well as yours needs to be human. This doesn't mean you can't create another character that isn't human. The main characters will be a kingmaker and the heir. I'll just make a quick character and you can copy my sheet style or whatever I don't really mind.

@t2wave

The Broken Line

The Broken Line

Story:
King Ulric Clarion fell gravely ill and knowing he had no time left proclaimed, "To all whom hear or read this. Let it be known that I, your humble servant King Clarion, have chosen a successor. They shall bear my weapon in battle , hold the effects that do mark my office, and above all they shall serve you even as I have. Even in my relatively young age I go the way of all the earth. Our gods have need of me elsewhere. May they watch over you in my absence."

It wasn't much longer after that in which he did indeed pass away. It would be known that the plagues took him. He assigned his noblest and reliable servants to find suitable heirs for the throne. These men and women have come to be known as the kingmakers. With the passing of Clarion, Sturth has been left kingless. The court of Sturth has struggled to keep their governing over the people stable and to watch for the return of an heir to fulfill Clarion's proclamation. It has been two years since the king's death. Two long years without a leader. The countries to the south and north become emboldened by the day.

Ghurmas to the north though made of divided war parties and tribes nonetheless raids Sturth's borders, stealing their goods and enslaving their people.

Oriston to the south though weak in military might invades the kingdom through political intrigue and dark influence.

Now the kingmakers are scattered. They have worked tirelessly and many have lost their hope. Some have even gone missing. Ozend finds himself in a surly mood. Efforts to fulfill the king's wishes gone awry for so long have left his countenance dark. Perhaps someone will give him a reason to grin again.

The Details

Nations

Sturth

- Sturth's kingdom is made up of classic medieval European architecture. Castles of stone, hamlets and farms, wooden forts to keep many of the borders safe, cities surrounded by great walls which in turn surround a ruler's castle.

Sturth has been the nation sandwiched between the other two. Due to this wars with them stuck in the middle have been occurring on and off for ages but without a king who united the nation against their foes they fall under risk of another invasion.

Sturth is a classic monarchy with a royal, noble and peasant class system. Up until recently the peasants have actually been treated very fairly and given the rights they deserve. Yet corrupt influence has started to change the governing laws of late and the peasants aren't particularly glad for them.

Ghurmas

- Ghurmas is made up of long halls, huts and blood pits. The more wealthy are capable of making buildings of stone and coliseums through the use of their slave labor. Walls are uncommon but not unheard of, generally being made of sharpened logs pitched against the outside of a settlement or specifically used to keep slaves in.

The beastkin are native to Ghurmas. Beastkin are humanoid beasts that make tribes throughout the northern forests and snowy reaches. Many have been enslaved to the regions rulers, making their armies ever the more deadly. The warlords of Ghurmas however are unable to come together to invade Sturth. Though their forces outnumber them greatly they have never been able to conquer Sturth and rarely unite. Ghurmas united is a terrible thing to witness. Ghurmas is not a united nation.

Oriston

- Oriston lies in a heated area and have by far the most intriguing of architecture. They have in some cases large pyramid-like structures which act as of the central hub of their town. Their technology allows for world-defying weather to occur within their homes and buildings. This is referred to as arcanimus, to infuse the arcane into the mundane. It allows them to live more comfortably in the dead of the sands. Nevertheless their settlements are most often around oasis and the weather gets cold to the far south tip of the continent. Their buildings often consist of clay, mud, and in most cases in towns or cities, large stone buildings that allow most of the town to take residence within.

Oriston lives in a system of castes. There are servants, soldiers, artisan, and then there's the magus caste. Except under extremely rare circumstances the native goblinoids are always forced into the servant caste. Being inhuman they are considered trash good for nothing more than fitting in the tight spaces and mines that normal Oristonians prefer not going. The soldier's caste make up a sect of elite soldiers, though Oriston's military might is small they are very well trained and conditioned to fight. The artisan caste are inventors, merchants, craftsmen, and architects with some talent in magic that allows them to create some of the most ingenious tools and architecture. The magus caste is very small as true sorcerers are very rare in the land. They are capable of employing elemental magics and in some rare cases use arcane magic to bend the laws of reality. They make up the leadership and high councils of Oriston.

Magic

Position in the World

- Magic is rare in the realm. Oriston's engineered magic is the exception as it defies normal craftsmanship. Ghurmasian rulers with often take to them witches and diviners to advise them and act as their agents.

Sturthan lords with power will quite frequently take to themselves court wizards. Some of which are actually from Oriston, making for some very intelligent advisers.

Magic requires chanting or rune-carving and no human can perform magic without them. Some magical creatures are the exception to this rule and being creatures of magic can perform it without chanting or other preparatory means.

Tales of the Black Order (Always Accepting)

After Silas' debrief Rem directed his attention to their uncomfortable companion. Harriet had been marching all the way back with her shoulder out of place and who knows what else. The Order's local doctor was a man he personally knew. "Come on Harriet, let's get you fixed up." He guided her through the bustle of multi-colored designed tents that served to show just how many nations had members in their order. It was at a makeshift cabin that he stopped. It looked to be an older building there prior to the Black Order's arrival. Rem rapped on the door with his knuckles.

A muffled voice called through the door. "Come on in, just mind my patient..." Opening the door revealed a candle-brightened room with an old desk, drawer and several cots. One of the cots was occupied by a pale a sweaty man who was trying to make the best of his time in there with rest. The doctor turned from his patient with a goggled mask that bore a long trunk-like tube to cover his mouth and nose. "Don't worry, he's not contagious. I'm just wearing this in case I'm wrong." He turned about to the desk, washing his hands in a small water basin beside it with some soap.

"Harriet, this is Uric Thaelin. He's from my home town and one of the most learned men in the profession." After uric dried his hands on a rag he pulled the gaudy mask off. He was an older gentleman, his grayed hair parted by a bald spot and a neat strap of hair poking up on his chin. He had a white tunic and brown trousers on. His sleeves had been pulled up for obvious reasons.

"Harriet is it? A pleasure to meet you mam! Let me have a look at you. Your shoulders look a little off. Tell me what hurts." Uric questioned.

"I'll leave you in his capable hands. My tent is the red and green one by the bonfire. I should be there in about an hour if you still need me." He said as he slipped out the door.

The night was still young and he was one of the few of the band who was left completely unscathed by the battle. Well, that didn't mean he wasn't tired from use of magic but he didn't mind the opportunity to meet with the others at the fire. He made his way there before his tent. He crossed his legs on the cool soil and enjoyed the beauty of the moment. A starry sky, a chill in the night's air and the crackling of fire. He was counting on the others to interrupt him.

Tales of the Black Order (Always Accepting)

You won't flood the feed. I'll give ya a post.

Edit: Damn. I was going to post something with Harriet involved but kiya hasn't been around for nearly two weeks. Well, I'll improvise should it not work.

Feral

Mokk drew in tow behind Garran. The eloquence of the building surpassed any architecture he had beheld before. Were he an artist and not a marauder this place would be even more of a wonder. The gilded walls and fancy furniture only added to the scene. The seraphim didn't mess around when it came to aesthetics. It made sense why the most valued items in the world were funneled from these lands.

"I'd love to see a fighting ring. Bring the real art out. They can have their gilding. I want to see strength. Power." Muttered the brute in the spacious and bright hallway. It opened up to a rotunda of sorts where the others had gathered outside of the council chambers.

Mokk looked up at Chii and the other unfamiliar faces and remained silent. Chii would know him. Perhaps she would even remember his name. Memories came back of the time he considered kidnapping her to prove her and teach her in ways he considered only a veteran killer could. Her savagery in combat was inspiring, it was poetry.

The crocodile grinned. Something that few could recognize as an actual smile.