Romero

Pro Patria Mori - A Tale of Sailships and Muskets II

"If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs, obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud. Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, my friend, you would not tell with such high zest to children ardent for some desperate glory, the old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est Pro patria mori." -Wilfred Owen

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Welcome one and all to this fairly tentative Interest Check. For those of you who have lingered in this sub-forum for a while, you may have come across one of the string on Nation RP's that I have run here over the last few years, but it is my most recent one, and the namesake of this one, that brings me here.

There's been somewhat of a drought in new Nation RP's, (with a few noticeable exceptions) so I took that as inspiration enough to look at reviving one of my own. For those who haven't encountered the predecessor, then here is a quick link to give you a rough idea of the map/nation sheet and how I'm planning to update the IC.

However for this new (and hopefully improved) version, I'm planning to run it as what I have self-dubbed as a 'hidden-stat' RP, leaning on conventional roleplaying more heavily, while maintaining the balance that stats can give without overloading players with numbers. I am also intending to shift the start date forwards by around half a century, and giving the players more of a roleplay experience.

In an ideal world I would have around six players, but I'm just pushing the boat out now both to see if anyone is interested in the concept, and to motivate myself to finish working on the mechanics. Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read this, hopefully it has inspired some of you! All input/comments/queries are more than welcome.

Warrior's Road: After the Blast [Post-Apocalyptic Fighting RP]

@wxps350 Sure thing!

Warrior's Road: After the Blast [Post-Apocalyptic Fighting RP]

Ezekiel

Ezekiel

Appearance

Age: 27
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Albino

Ezekiel stands at around six feet tall, but he is a gaunt figure beneath the dark hooded robes he always wears. Eating only for survival, he is almost deathly thin, an impression only strengthened by his pale skin and hair. His eyes are a washed-out blue, but they still hold an intensity. Ezekiel carries no weapons, and the only trinket he carries is a heavy iron cross that hangs from a chain around his neck. He also travels barefoot, considering the pain to be divine punishment.

Personality Traits

• Determined
• Unstable
• Zealous
• Driven
• Distrusting
• Blunt

Backstory

Ezekiel never knew his parents. The scorched wastelands are no place to raise a child, but even there, there are some who seek them out. When he was still a babe, Ezekiel was brought under the care of a strange group, the Sisters of the Immortal Faith. To this day, he does not know whether he was intentionally left with the sisters, or whether he was taken from his parent's arms by force, and he never thought to ask.

From as early as he can remember, he was imbued with faith. Countless hours of worship, writing out the scripture until his fingers bled, Ezekiel's life was dedicated to the distorted faith of the Sisters of the Immortal Faith. To the Sisters, within their fortified convent, the Blast had been the apocalypse, the beginning of Armageddon. They believed that they had been left behind as vessels of their lord, to continue spreading his message so that more sinners may find redemption.

As Ezekiel grew older, the voices started. They whispered to him in the darkness, and he came to believe that he was communicating the the lord himself. The voices convinced him that the Sisters message was wrong. The righteous had been left behind not to redeem the sinners, but instead to bring righteous retribution. Ezekiel was almost twenty years old when he finally discovered the lords real gift. To him, the flames that poured forth and engulfed the convent were divine. The roar of the fire drowned out the screams, and Ezekiel did not look back as he set out into the wasteland.

Since then, Ezekiel has continued to purge whatever 'sinners' he encounters, following the will of the voices. In the last few months, the voices have been talking almost relentlessly about the hive of villainy that New Fennec has become, and he has been inevitably drawn to the City of Lost Warriors...

Fighting Art - Purging with Holy Fire

It may well be divine intervention that has gifted Ezekiel his 'art', but it is just as likely to have been caused by the toxic radiation that poisons the wasteland. No matter what the source, Ezekiel has found that when he is gripped by a righteous fury, flames seem to pour forth from him, leaving his own body unharmed, but burning away the sinners.

■ Flaming Form With concentrated effort, Ezekiel is able to engulf his entire body in flames, leaving his body and clothing unharmed, but burning anyone or anything that is unfortunate enough to come too close

■ Divine Touch Ezekiel is able to engulf his fists with white-hot flames, able to scorch almost anything in a flurry of flaming fists

■ Righteous Flame When sinners are out of his immediate reach, Ezekiel can channel these divine flames into a streams of fire, reaching up to several dozen feet.

Weaknesses
Ezekiel is not a trained fighter, and he can therefore be outmanoeuvred with relative ease by a skilled warrior. He is also limited in his range, and acting with only human reflexes.

Warrior's Road: After the Blast [Post-Apocalyptic Fighting RP]

Ezekiel

Ezekiel

Appearance

Age: 27
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Albino

Ezekiel stands at around six feet tall, but he is a gaunt figure beneath the dark hooded robes he always wears. Eating only for survival, he is almost deathly thin, an impression only strengthened by his pale skin and hair. His eyes are a washed-out blue, but they still hold an intensity. Ezekiel carries no weapons, and the only trinket he carries is a heavy iron cross that hangs from a chain around his neck. He also travels barefoot, considering the pain to be divine punishment.

Personality Traits

• Determined
• Unstable
• Zealous
• Driven
• Distrusting
• Blunt

Backstory

Ezekiel never knew his parents. The scorched wastelands are no place to raise a child, but even there, there are some who seek them out. When he was still a babe, Ezekiel was brought under the care of a strange group, the Sisters of the Immortal Faith. To this day, he does not know whether he was intentionally left with the sisters, or whether he was taken from his parent's arms by force, and he never thought to ask.

From as early as he can remember, he was imbued with faith. Countless hours of worship, writing out the scripture until his fingers bled, Ezekiel's life was dedicated to the distorted faith of the Sisters of the Immortal Faith. To the Sisters, within their fortified convent, the Blast had been the apocalypse, the beginning of Armageddon. They believed that they had been left behind as vessels of their lord, to continue spreading his message so that more sinners may find redemption.

As Ezekiel grew older, the voices started. They whispered to him in the darkness, and he came to believe that he was communicating the the lord himself. The voices convinced him that the Sisters message was wrong. The righteous had been left behind not to redeem the sinners, but instead to bring righteous retribution. Ezekiel was almost twenty years old when he finally discovered the lords real gift. To him, the flames that poured forth and engulfed the convent were divine. The roar of the fire drowned out the screams, and Ezekiel did not look back as he set out into the wasteland.

Since then, Ezekiel has continued to purge whatever 'sinners' he encounters, following the will of the voices. In the last few months, the voices have been talking almost relentlessly about the hive of villainy that New Fennec has become, and he has been inevitably drawn to the City of Lost Warriors...

Fighting Art - Purging with Holy Fire

It may well be divine intervention that has gifted Ezekiel his 'art', but it is just as likely to have been caused by the toxic radiation that poisons the wasteland. No matter what the source, Ezekiel has found that when he is gripped by a righteous fury, flames seem to pour forth from him, leaving his own body unharmed, but burning away the sinners.

■ Flaming Form With concentrated effort, Ezekiel is able to engulf his entire body in flames, leaving his body and clothing unharmed, but burning anyone or anything that is unfortunate enough to come too close

■ Divine Touch Ezekiel is able to engulf his fists with white-hot flames, able to scorch almost anything in a flurry of flaming fists

■ Righteous Flame When sinners are out of his immediate reach, Ezekiel can channel these divine flames into a streams of fire, reaching up to several dozen feet.
>/list>

Weaknesses
Ezekiel is not a trained fighter, and he can therefore be outmanoeuvred with relative ease by a skilled warrior. He is also limited in his range, and acting with only human reflexes.

The Witcher: Under the Shadow

I really like the look of this, but am I right in assuming that it's full? I'm happy to watch from a distance and wait for an opening if that is the case.

Destiny's Call (Grand Fantasy Roleplay)

I'll add my interest to this, but obviously I am one of many! I'll look at getting a character together, but I'm happy to end up on a waiting list.

A Warrior's Road [Post Apocalyptic Fighting RP]

I'll throw my hat into the battle arena of death as well

🦄 Tartarean Strands - Chapter 1: The Collision

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William Fraser

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Location: DttS Fade Between
Skills: N/A

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Considering recent events, William hadn't been expecting any kind of concise answer, and he wasn't wrong. The two women responded to his question first, but the only thing he really learnt was their names. Or at least what they claimed their names to be. The woman in the pink dress introduced herself as 'Faye Masterson' also introduced the skull-faced man as 'the Baron'. For a moment the rest of her sentence threw him off, until he realised that she had changed who she was addressing, and it was this 'Baron' who she was asking to release 'Miss Clarke', presumably the woman that the Baron had his arm around. And as if on cue, 'Miss Clarke' introduced herself as Josephine Clarke. For the second time in as many moments, the Baron was introduced. William frowned slightly. More noble titles, and in the Baron, someone who looked even more ill-suited to the title than the Duchess. That was not the only thing about this unusual trio that stood in contradiction. Faye had been calling for the Baron to release Josephine, and yet the latter seemed more than comfortable in the mans clutches. Both women had felt the need to introduce the Baron before he had a chance to himself, and yet neither introduced the other. And perhaps most disturbingly for William, both had ignored his second question as if he had never even asked it. His mind was racing with the possibilities. Either they were as clueless about their situation as he was, or they were keeping the information to themselves. Before he could start to put the pieces together, the Baron spoke.

The skull-faced man had been the first to notice William and the Duchess arriving, and if he was at all phased by them, he didn't show it. He confirmed his title, but gave no other name, but he at least answered William's question, claiming to not have had a hand in bringing them to this shadowed realm. William didn't trust him for a moment, but at the moment, he seemed to be the only one with any real sense of what was going on. The insinuation in his tone as he leered over Josephine suggested he wasn't going to be playing the role of a knightly savior, although the skull drawn across his face might have already been a clue in that regard. The snake that slithered down his arm as he spoke, entwining itself around Josephine's body, put William even more on edge. He had glimpsed snakes before, of course, but in his experience they kept to themselves. This snake was different, it almost seemed to be acting like an extension of the Baron's will. He watched it warily, until the Duchess spoke again.

The Russian seemed to have regained her composure, introducing herself to the two women, although it was the first time William had heard her say her name. Elizaveta Romanova. William turned the name over in his head for a moment, before settling for the Duchess. Despite her being the closest thing William had to a companion in this strange starless world, he still barely knew the woman. And anyone who was that many rungs above William deserved the respect of her title, even if it was only in William's thoughts. Realising that he was now the only member in their unusual party without a name, William moved to remedy that, opening his mouth to speak. But before he could get any words out, the Baron spoke again.

The Duchess had been slowly moving towards the Baron, never taking her hand off the hilt of her sword, but the Baron's apparent warning seemed to fall on deaf ears. Whatever the Duchess could see, or sense, about the man, she clearly didn't like as she quickly stepped back. But if the Baron was phased, he hardly showed it, quickly turning his attention back the woman in his clutches, gesturing to lead her away. For William, the scene all seemed surreal. Not only were his surroundings otherworldly, these strangers hardly seemed any more grounded. All three of them had greeted William and the Duchess almost without batting an eyelid, and yet they must have both just appeared out of thin air. The music at the back of William's mind was a slow, eerie staccato that was doing nothing to settle his nerves. He didn't know if the three strangers were human, Soulless, or something worse. The only figure that he had even a glimmer of trust in was the Duchess, so it was to her that he would stay close to. At least until he had some idea of what was going on. Moving forward himself until he was just a pace or two away from the Duchess, still facing the three figures, William didn't release the hilt of his dirk. The Duchess had apparently reached the same conclusion as he had, turning towards him and asking the same question that William had been about to ask himself. To follow this 'Baron', or to set off into the fog. Much to William's distaste, there was only one real option. He shrugged slightly as he turned back to William, keeping his voice low.

"Whatever this 'Baron' is, he seems to know this place. For now, I fear he is our only chance of finding our way back to the others."

Turning back to the Baron and the two women, William tried to put on a charming smile as he spoke again. For now, he would wait and see how the other's would act, rather than risk doing something he would regret.

"William Fraser. A pleasure to meet you all, I am sure."

🦄 Tartarean Strands - Chapter 1: The Collision

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William Fraser

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Location: Soulless Fade Between <~SNAP~> DttS Fade Between
Skills: Gislid

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The Duchess acknowledged William's introduction, but she gave no introduction of her own. To William, she would remain simply 'the Duchess' for now. Although 'The Great Bazhooli' had addressed her as a 'grand' Duchess, William struggled to connect the woman that he saw before him with an even more regal title than the one she already had in his head. Although she was clearly powerful, and her knowledge seemed to dwarf William's own, at least in matters of the strange and surreal, to William, she certainly didn't look like the heights of nobility. But there was something about her, a presence that she had maintained since she had first emerged from the flock of birds in front of the carriage what seemed like an eternity ago. William didn't know what it was, but he had brushed shoulders with nobility before, and this Duchess was something very different.

For all her presence however, to William she still seemed to be speaking in riddles. Something caught his eye though. A symbol, carved onto one of the crumbling stone walls. It had half-faded, but William could make out enough of it to recognise it as the same symbol that the Duchess had etched out on the floor of the church just moments before. Perhaps the Duchess really did have control over their journey to... wherever they are. That, or something really had drawn them here. William turned towards the Duchess, opening his mouth to question her about the symbol. He half-heard the less flamboyant of the two Russians introduce himself, but before William could speak, the world turned inside out. Again.

*****Snapping*****

For a moment, there was nothing but shades of black and grey. The same nausea from before struck William again, but he had braced himself for it this time. There seemed to be thick fog in every direction, but then details started to emerge from the darkness. He might have been prepared for the nausea, but he was far from ready for the phantom that loomed out from the shadows. If he had been in the unknown before, he was surely now in hell, for it must be Death himself that stood above him. William's blood ran cold, but after an instant, he realised two things. The first was that the phantom wasn't swooping forwards to claim William's soul. And the second was that he wasn't alone.

The presence of a face he knew, even slightly, did plenty to reassure William, even if the uncertainty in her usually assured voice unnerved him. But it was the others that unnerved him even more. Two women, a man and a... snake, all in the shadow of the phantom. That, however, was as far as William's understanding went. The three figures were all dressed in a manner totally alien to William, and the man's face was painted to resemble a skull. At least, William hoped that his face was painted to resemble a skull. The thought of the alternative sent a shiver down William's spine. It took him a moment to process that the man had just spoken, and that William must be one of the 'new guests', although their surroundings certainly didn't seem like a party. The Duchess seemed to recognise the figure, and the edge to her voice did nothing to settle William's nerve. Instinctively, he moved his hand to grip the hilt of his dirk. Although he felt he already knew the answer, he glanced towards the sky for a moment, or at least where the sky should be, behind the rolling fog. Just as before, there were no stars. But wile before he could have passed their absence off as his mind still recovering from his sudden transportation, now there seemed to be a choking emptiness where the stars should have been. They weren't shrouded, they simply weren't there.

Trying to push the thoughts of the emptiness from his mind, William turned back to look at the three figures. Keeping his hand on the hilt of his dirk, careful to not take his eyes off of the figures, William spoke, trying to ignore how his voice seemed to echo in the void.

"Who are you? Did you bring us here?"

🦄 Tartarean Strands - Chapter 1: The Collision

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William Fraser

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Location: Soulless Fade Between
Skills: History (Scotland), History (England)

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Had everyone gone mad? William was still fighting back the urge to be sick, trying to ignore the implications of a starless sky, but the pale woman seemed more interested in the beauty of their surroundings. Even her saying that they were 'elsewhere' did nothing to help William's understanding of what had just happened. She even seemed to be crying as she took in the ruins that surrounded them. As the Duchess seemed to recover from their surreal journey, William hoped that she would be able to shed some light, or at least share his disbelief at the pale woman's apparent delight at their surroundings, but he couldn't have been more wrong. She seemed as unsure about what had just happened as William was, and agreed that their new surroundings were beautiful, albeit in a unique way.

It was all William could do to stop his mouth from falling open in disbelief. He knew next to nothing about his current companions, in fact the only member of their group that he had had any sort of real interaction with had just faded away with the rest of the church. He didn't know any of their names, and yet he had been flung to this starless 'Elsewhere' with no-one but them for company. For all he knew, they all were used to these spiritual transportation, but for William, this was diving into the unknown and finding there was no bottom. His head was spinning and it took all of his effort just to listen to what his strange companions were saying. The pale woman spoke again, mentioning her father, and suggesting that wherever they were had some connection to him, and to the name she had said just before their journey, 'Belladonna'. None of it meant anything to William, but as he braced himself, he started to feel a little bit more in control.

By the time 'The Great Bazhooli' addressed him, although not by name, William had managed to stop the world from swimming. The urge to be sick had faded, and in the back of his mind, a low tune had sprung into life, giving William a sense of order even amongst the chaos of the last few moments. If nothing else, the sheer cheerfulness of the flamboyant Russian was contagious, and William managed a slight smile as he straightened up. 'The Great Bazhooli' had done something to help William know his new companions a little more, and if he was to be stranded here, then he may as well introduce himself, as he subconsciously put faces to the names that the Russian had just said. The man that had saved William earlier was 'Constantin Firewalker', which meant the pale woman must be 'Lady Crypt'. He had heard of the family name in England, but only enough to know that they were Peers. When he spoke, he didn't address anyone in particular, instead looking from one face to the next.

"Forgive me. I think in all the excitement, I never introduced myself, and if we are indeed all here for a reason, then I should remedy that. William Fraser, at your service."

He resisted the urge to bow, deciding to leave the theatrics to 'The Great Bazhooli'. Speaking of the Russian, William glanced around at their surroundings as he pondered the other man's suggestions. As tempting as any fire trick sounded, William was only just getting over his first mystical leap, and he wasn't keen on repeating the experience so soon. He continued to look around as he spoke again, offering his own humble opinion on what they should do.

"If someone, or something, brought us here, then they have hardly laid out a welcoming party. So if we are here for a purpose, then it seems as if it is up to us to go and find what that purpose is."

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Roll Request

Character current location: Soulless Fade Between
Characters attempted actions: Search for any historical clues in his immediate surroundings
Any and all skills being used: History (Scotland), History (England)
Why each skill is being called: History (Scotland/England) for the identification of any historical items/symbols that may be nearby
Desired location of the character: Same as current location