Sessamaru

Blood, Riches and Glory: Ghosts of Iron Coast

<Snipped quote by Sessamaru>

Yup, storm + day time. I don't think we ever established an actual time, so just keep mentioning day light until someone starts their post with "night was drawing in fast", I guess?

@Frengo

Alright. Thank you. I suppose I will make a post now.

Blood, Riches and Glory: Ghosts of Iron Coast

This sounds fun. If I remember right, there's now an overcast of a storm coming? I'm also assuming it's day, right?

Blood, Riches and Glory: Ghosts of Iron Coast

Hello, everyone and here's my sheet ^^"

Name: Aramil Nailo

Age: 200

Gender: Male

Race: Half-Elf

Race Overview: Aramil is the offspring of a high elf mother and a human father. He appears to have favorable traits from both parents, though these are merely physical; despite this, he still appears as an elf to humans and a human to elves.

Titles: The Black Sorcerer of Yr (Formally); The Old Magician (Within the Iron Coast)

Appearance
Aramil is an albino with mauve eyes. His hair is long and milky white, his skin the color of bleached bone. He is 6'2" tall and slender. Due to his parentage, he appears to have slightly pointed ears, slanted almond-shaped eyes, and a fair bone structure. His jawline is strong and angular, though his chin seems to be square rather than pointed, and his cheekbones are also high. His shoulders aren't as broad as the average human's, but they're slightly more broad than an elf's. Despite his otherworldly and youthful appearance, he appears quite sickly, even by the standards of albinism. His eyes are surrounded by prominent dark circles, his eyes hold a feverish glaze, and he seems physically frail. Aramil wears a long black robe and cloak, often wearing his hood low over his face, and he tends to take the appearance of an elderly man with a long white beard, walking with a hunch and a slightly more healthy skin tone (still pale, but with some color).

Aramil's Disguise

Aramil's True Appearance

Weapons & Items
Ebony Wizard's Staff-- A gnarled staff of ebony with a crystal ball at its top; there is nothing particularly special about the staff aside from acting as a focus for Aramil's spellcasting, concentrating his magical abilities without the need of overextending himself. Added on top of his great will and control, the staff merely aids him in not wasting too much of his magic power.

Aramil's Heirloom-- This amulet was once his mother's. Originally, it served only as a memento, but as he became more knowledgeable and powerful in the field of magic, he decided to give the memento a permanent use. This memento allows him to disguise himself into whatever he wants to be, within reason since the enchantment is rather weak. As a half-elf, he much preferred to be inconspicuous, and thus he is often seen as an elderly man wearing dark robes and carrying a staff. The enchantment within the heirloom is limited in that the person cannot change their height, their voice, nor their weight; but they can change their race, within reason (a halfling cannot change into an adult-sized elf, or an orc cannot change into a gnome, etc), add or detract hair, and they can change their age. It is a somewhat useful tool, but most would find its uses lackluster and useless on the grounds that the change is merely superficial. The enchantment can be activated or deactivated at the will of the wearer, and it can also be deactivated if the amulet is removed from one's person. Aside from this, the amulet looks rather ordinary.

Enchanted Flask-- A metal flask originally used for storing alcohol, this flask is used to turn any liquid into an elixir for his particular ailment. The flask's face has alchemical runes carved into it. Enchanting this flask was done with the combined alchemy ingredients and knowledge of enchanting, aided with magical theory. Though the flask cannot refill the contents, it can still purify the various liquids; however, this is useless to those who do not suffer from Thin Blood, and those who seek healthy hydration would suffer from thirst.

Dagger

Charcoal

Waterskin

Steed: Alastor-- a magical steed from the underworld, it appears as a skeletal horse consumed by lavender flame. Alastor is bound to Aramil through a magical pact and can be summoned whenever Aramil desires its assistance. The horse is quite faster than most and does not suffer from fatigue; though its existence in the Material Plane is limited to a full day.

Abilities
Thin Blood-- Though common among those of various racial ancestry, it is a rare blood disease in a new generation half-breed. Aramil is the first child sired by two different races (a human and an elf) within his respected families. As the name suggests, Aramil has thin blood coursing through his veins, making him weary and often times sick to the point of bedridden. There are times when his blood enters his lungs, putting him into a coughing fit and plagued with pneumonia, forcing him to cough up his own blood in the process. His heart has an irregular heartbeat and he is often at a high fever. This disease is neither contagious nor hereditary, merely a birth defect due to the differing physiologies of one's parentage. It is said that the disease drastically decreases the life expectancy of the mixed blooded offspring, often dying (if untreated) before their second decade.

Elven Sight-- As the offspring of an elf parent, Aramil can easily see at night as though it were merely sunset. Unfortunately, due to his illness, his eyesight is limited to human depth and distance.

Mark of Souls-- As a necromancer, Aramil possesses a mark that allows him to consume souls. This is a mimicry of a Lich's phylactery, only instead of putting one's soul into it, the Mark is bound to the mortal body and acts as a vessel for outside souls. It can only consume one soul a day, but it is enough for Aramil to not be plagued by the Thin Blood. The mark can be found beneath his glove on the back of his left hand; a small green emerald surrounded by a magic circle that was tattooed with enchanted green ink (which appears only when spellcasting).

Minimalism-- Not exactly an ability, but unlike most races and creatures, Aramil is a minimalist. A unique mindset, Aramil prefers to use very little tools at his disposal. Though a wizard with a vast repertoire spells, he prefers to conserve his energy for different approaches and is willing to use the more basic spells over the more complex spells. Aramil prefers talking his way out of a situation than to fight and is more than willing to surrender. This mindset also allows him an advantage over others, who much prefer to use everything they have in order to survive; his way of survival relies on solely on his wit and ingenuity.

Talents
Scholar-- Aramil is quite knowledgeable of magic and magical theory. Though he is not aware of the history of foreign continents, he is quite familiar with the history of his own province beyond the sea. He lusts for knowledge and he's quite unwilling to deter from his path once his mind is set on it. Ultimately, he is searching for the ultimate artifact that is said to be somewhere in the world, perhaps even beyond his homeland: the Book of the Dead Gods.

Alchemist-- Aramil is an expert alchemist, having grown up consistently sick. He had learned how to create potions and elixirs to increase his strength and halt his coughing fits for some time. Like most alchemists, he is able to create poisons and antidotes; a byproduct of his teachings.

Magician-- Despite his sickness, Aramil is a capable street performer of the more mundane "magic." Capable of deception and sleight-of-hand, Aramil can easily deceive or entertain those around him with petty tricks that have nothing to do with spellcasting. These include coin tricks, clever use of fireworks (including "smoke bombs"), illusory transpositions (pulling things from nowhere, but in reality from carefully hidden slots in articles of clothing, such as a hat), etc.

Perception-- Aramil is quite perceptive and difficult to deceive. After a life full of peril and betrayal, Aramil became cold and jaded. On top of this, he is able to deduce a person's weakness, whether it's a lie or a tight defense. Due to his perceptive nature, Aramil comes off as sly and clever, capable of using these insights to his advantage. He is also shown to be very careful when around something unusual and appears even more cautious around the usual (almost as if something seems too normal).

Diplomacy-- Despite being a necromancer, Aramil prefers diplomacy over combat. Capable of remaining civil and respectful, he places others on equal footing rather than using intimidation and allows enough room in negotiations for compromise. This is not to say he can't use intimidation to get favorable results (though he is quite subtle about such an approach), but he finds civil conversation far more preferable with less consequences regarding his overall health.

Polyglot-- As a scholar and wizard, it was a part of his lessons by his previous masters to learn certain languages, ranging from the mundane (elves, dwarves, halflings, etc) to the otherworldly (primarily devils and demons). As such, Aramil can speak in numerous tongues without the aid of magic to just about every conceivable race on this plane of existence (humans, elves (as well as drow), dwarves (and their cousins), halflings, gnomes, orcs, goblins, tieflings, and dragonkind) and to demons and devils; unfortunately, he cannot speak celestial nor druidic.

Magic
Necromancy-- Aramil is a prodigy of wizardry, greatly talented in the schools of abjuration and evocation; by extension, he is powerful in conjuration, as well, capable of summoning demons and other beings from beyond. As such, he chose necromancy as his specialty for its vast array of uses. Unlike most necromancers, Aramil chooses not to use this form of magic as a way to amass an army of corpses, but rather to pry from their lips (or lipless mouths) the many secrets that riddled their former lives. These secrets increase(d) his knowledge in military tactics and strategy, magical theory, and even the location of certain objects or the dangers that may lay ahead. The extent of his skill also lay in his spellcasting. He can taint his spells with necromantic energy, allowing him to siphon the vitality of others to heal himself (and to treat his sickness) or to cause necrosis alongside the burning, scorching, freezing, or crushing effects of certain spells. He is unable to wrench control of an undead if the will of the opposing necromancer (whether human (or some other living race) or Lich) is equal to his own or if the soul of the undead (i.e. revenant) rejects his commands due to an equal or stronger will. Unlike most magic, necromancy does not weaken him (in fact, it bolsters him) and the only weakness is his actual arcane spellcasting which drains his magical reserves (though the vitality (or souls) that he siphons exponentially increases his magical power). If Aramil casts too many spells or too powerful a spell, he would grow physically weak (even if he managed to siphon a soul or one's vitality) and will be overcome by his illness. If he survives, it is questionable when he would regain his strength and may even require the need of drugs to restore his health.

Backstory

TL;DR

Aramil's life was not a happy one. His mother an elf maiden who was caught and sold by slavers, given to the man who would later become his father. His father was a human nobleman, once hailed as a hero during the civil war that had consumed Yr. Aramil's father was a drunk and womanizer and had raped the elf maiden in a drunken stupor. After months (if not years), every night, Aramil was finally conceived. After his birth, his father was disgusted by the infant's appearance and felt that a man of his station should keep the child hidden away (though he had contemplated killing the child, but grew disgusted by the thought). Aramil was frail and sickly and was hidden in a dark room the majority of his childhood, only leaving the chamber to assist his mother and to serve his father. During the days that the nobleman showed signs of soberness, he was intrigued by Aramil's intelligence and demanded that he was educated. When the man was drunk, Aramil would be dragged out of his room and savagely beaten and verbally abused because of his frail nature. The latter happened far more often. Broken, bruised, and already too sick to leave his bed most days, Aramil did not know what a normal life was truly like. He was alone and his mother would often be missing during the nights his father was intoxicated.

However, the only person to visit him daily was the local cleric, a young woman acting as the church's apothecary. This young woman would help treat Aramil and provided him with a generous amount of medicine to help him grow strong enough to continue his studies. There were days where he would open up to her and speak to her about the things he learned and his desire to learn alchemy. They would often swap stories and she would laugh at his pranks he would perform on the other servants and slaves, and occasionally his father, during the times he felt strong and bold enough to leave his room. They eventually became friends and she would teach him about herbs and medicine. His aptitude to learn amazed her, for he would quickly grasp every lesson and hold onto her every word. After a while, he would ask her about the outside world, for he was never allowed to leave the manse, not even to play in the garden. Her stories enchanted him and his burning desire to explore grew greater. It was, perhaps, this inner strength that gave him courage and physical strength, the raw willpower, to prepare to leave the place he called home.

However, his hopes and dreams eventually shattered when his father, during his rare moments of sobriety, told him of his mother's death. She died from fever and the only thing she left him was an old heirloom, which was brought to him by a servant. He fell into a deep depression, his energy drained from his person and his sickness took hold of every aspect of his life thereafter. The beatings continued, even more frequently this time. Eventually, his father found himself face-to-face with the unhappy folk of the town, who revolted against his him. It was a swift execution and the manse was burned to the ground. Aramil miraculously survived, for serendipity was on his side; the young cleric who had aided him throughout the years led him out of the house, himself half-conscious of the events due to lack of medicine and the damage brought by the regular beatings. After regaining consciousness several days later, another tragedy had befallen poor Aramil-- the young woman died from the smoke of the flames days after the revolt. Orphaned and truly alone once more, Aramil was lost. He lived within the Church for a few months thereafter, cared for by the other clerics.

One day, minstrels arrived into the town, bringing with them many exotic animals and instruments. They performed for the folk of the town, performing tricks and concerts, releasing the tame beasts they had with them. Leading the group was a tall dark skinned man, thick with muscle and possessing tusks, by the name of Val Karna-- a half-orc whose appearance favored his human blood. Val Karna performed tricks and "miracles" to the citizens and it amazed the young Aramil. When the traveling band began to leave the village three days later, Aramil approached Val Karna and begged to be his apprentice, wanting to know magic. Val looked the youth up and down, and began to try and dissuade the youth, but Aramil remained stubborn and argued that he was an orphan with nowhere else to go. Aramil even pleaded, to the point where he was even willing to do all the difficult tasks and even scrounge around for his own herbs for his own medication. Val relented and agreed to take the young lad as a pupil.

Aramil traveled with the band for three years, and at the age of 15 he began to perform tricks with Val Karna, who had become like an elder brother to him. The two amazed the crowds and gathered enough money to buy their own tavern, a plan Val explained to Aramil amidst their travels. It was unfortunate, however, that Aramil would never get to see Val's dream become a reality, for after their final venture from a major city in the elven lands of Ranaamar, they were ambushed by bandits. Val and the group begged for Aramil to run away while they feebly fought the bandits, and Aramil could not comply out of fear. Everyone died, aside from the albino teen (who was taken by the bandits to be a potential profit in the land of Yr). After three days of travel, the bandits also hit their own roadblock-- they had stumbled upon the Tower of Tel'Arkana, an elven wizard of great renown. Tel'Arkana did not appreciate bandits and other vagabonds upon his territory, and these bandits were no exception. They swiftly lost their lives by the time the wizard hit the final step that led to the tower's entrance. Aramil had been catatonic and did not witness the demise of his captors; nor was he aware of the wizard taking him to the tower for rest and questioning.

It took months to restore the tragic child's mind, bringing Aramil back to the realm of reality. At first, Tel'Arkana was going to send Aramil on his way after restoring his health, but he thought better of it when he understood the albino's condition and situation. He was also amazed by Aramil's learning capabilities and intelligent observation after a single conversation. The elf wizard decided to take the young half-elf under his wing, making him his apprentice. Aramil learned at an alarming rate, a natural genius in regards to magic and magical theory. However, he seemed quite tempered for someone so young. Aramil lived with Tel'Arkana for 20 years. During the 19th year of his stay, Aramil grew interested in necromancy. Tel'Arkana grew furious at the very thought, so much so that he forbade the youth from ever researching it. Something snapped in Aramil, destroying whatever remained left of his innocence. Aramil did not appreciate being told "no" to a subject he must learn about, and thus he planned his master's death. He could never kill Tel'Arkana outright, for the elf wizard was physically and magically more powerful than the young albino. Thus, Aramil made a plan based upon his master's research and habits. It took nine months of obeying his master's command and making sure there was no break in Tel'Arkana's routine, and when his master went to sleep, Aramil went to the Laboratory, wherein lay the obsession of the elf wizard: a rare and undiscovered breed of spider, the White Fade Spider. Aramil knew better than to remove the spider from its glass barrier and to let it loose, so he borrowed a vial that rested upon rack beside the spider's prison. When his master awoke, Aramil greeted his master with tea, as he usually did. They both had a conversation regarding whether or not Tel'Arkana should hire servants to assist around the tower. Though normally perceptive, Tel'Arkana did not realize his fate, even 3 months later. The White Fade Spider's venom was unique in that it caused gradual memory loss that was so subtle that the victim would not realize it unless it was pointed out by a second person. Though in smaller animals, this memory loss would have been more effective in that in a matter of minutes or hours, the creature would die due to suffocation (the body and brain literally forgetting how to breathe); but in larger creatures, such as humans and elves, the venom took months. Tel'Arkana grew ill, and eventually worse. Aramil remained patient until his master lay on his bed for one last time, never to awaken.

Aramil took a small amount of wealth with him, on top of his master's research notes and journals. After four years of journeying alone, he eventually stumbled upon an old man in a hut in the swamplands of Szyr. This man was powerful and upon meeting Aramil, the two immediately struck a bargain: Aramil would apprentice under him and the old man can have Tel'Arkana's notes. Aramil benefitted due to the elderly man being a necromancer; one that was difficult to find and had taken him three years. The old man did not know, however, that Aramil had committed the notes to memory, tampered with them, and destroyed the majority of the research. Aramil lived with the old man for a much shorter time, only 5 years. Aramil grew smarter and wiser under this man's tutelage, which was much darker and sadistic than his previous master. However, Aramil understood necromancy for what it was and found better uses for it. This disappointed his master who lived and breathed for the idea of turning a corpse into a puppet for the mere pleasure of having the power over death. After a time, Aramil noticed his master leaving the hut much more frequently, which he took advantage of by reading the many notes and learning the wards' words of power. Aramil eventually learned all that he could and eventually decided to follow his master. The albino followed the old man to a hidden cave, following after him after five minutes of waiting. There, he saw despair.

Before him was a giant gate powered by a red orb. The portal seemed incomplete, but Aramil saw the shadow of what lay beyond it. His master was speaking to it, even referring to it as his "Master." Aramil knew well what was going on and he knew what lay beyond the gate was something of immense, if not god-like, power. Aramil listened to the conversation and realized that his master had been nurturing his talent in order to make him a sacrifice to feed the orbs power and to let loose a horror unlike any other unto the land. Rather than sit idly by, Aramil unleashed multiple spells towards the orb, damaging it. Stunned, his master could only watch Aramil with absolute horror. The creature beyond the gate would cry out in pain and agony, until the gateway dispersed altogether. A howling roar and an oath filled Aramil's ears: "You shall pay for this! I will hunt you to the ends of the planes!"

Aramil had no time to ponder the threat and merely ran back to the cottage, the drugs he had consumed were wearing off. He eventually made it to the hut, his master still far behind, and as he entered, Aramil deactivated the wards throughout the house and sought shelter in the furthest corner beneath his own layers of blankets. His master arrived and spoke, inadvertently, the activation words to his wards, believing Aramil to have turned them on upon entering and hiding. After all, his apprentice was too smart to leave the wards deactivated when there was an impending doom. The old man entered his own home and suffered the consequences, the entire hut exploding into a magnificent ball of fire, frost, and lightning.

After the self-destruction of his master and the hut, Aramil awoke hours later, battered and bruised. He no longer had his drugs to give him strength and his body ached with pain. After days of crawling out of the swamp, only eating the vermin that came by and siphoning the lives of carrion, Aramil fell unconscious. After a week, he awoke in the local church within a nearby town, with many medications that were used to restore his health on a side table by the bed. Aramil was submitted for questioning, where he recounted the events, yet omitting particular details. After seeing no need to keep him, the town guard and the church let Aramil go and rewarded him for the destruction of the necromancer. With nothing else for him, Aramil decided to travel the world in search of a particular item he had found in the old necromancer's notes: the Book of the Dead Gods, his possible salvation and darkest goal.

Starting Location: Actium

Waeldeshore: The wars beyond...

I'm a bit interested in the RP, if you won't mind having me.

Staring into the Black

The RP will be up in a few days. It's going to take some time for me to organize everything appropriately. Don't fret, though! It'll be a thing and it won't be complex. Just a bit of information.

A Mad Tea Party

A Mad Tea Party

Faust sat in the mysterious garden, lit by moonlight and surrounded by a forest. A meadow of sorts... only, it lay within the foundations of his immense Gothic castle. Faust was a tall, slender man with fine, sharp features and long, wavy red hair. He was clean shaven, wore thin spectacles and a fine purple velvet suit topped with a purple velvet top-hat with a black band and a large poker card. Incidentally, the card was the Joker. In his white gloved hand was a silver watch, which did not tick and was forever stuck at 6 o'clock. Not a second moved, and the pale man smiled, his emerald eyes gleaming with something alien.

With his other gloved hand, this one a black leather glove rather than a white silk glove, he took a sip of tea from a tiny tea cup. His chair was made of onyx, and looked more like a throne than a normal chair, and it was at the "head" of the large, circular stone table, where sat ordinary gilded chairs with plush red leather cushions. The table, interestingly enough, was of Celtic design, with Nordic runes lining its "edges". In each chair at each "end" of the table were the most interesting of characters.

Oghma, the Spider Queen, sat at the opposite end of the table. She assumed a human-esque form, appearing like a beautiful young woman nearing her twenties. She adopted a Tomoe hair style for her long, silver hair, which graciously complemented her dark, tanned skin. Her eyes were, oddly enough, multi-faceted rubies in their almond-shape. It seemed as though she could see everywhere and nowhere all at once. From her back were her other four appendages, which could easily have been mistakened for wings if not for the fact there was no substance in between them to allow it a single draft. She wore an exotic black dress, which possessed a deep V-neck outlined with tufts of black fur. She also wore long gloves of black silk, which reached the middle of her slender biceps. Faust particularly liked her, for she had a sharp wit and could spin stories as though she were spinning her own web.

At Faust's left was a penguin by the name of Fred, who wore a red bowtie made of the finest satin, with a tiny black top-hat with a white paper band, a long turquoise feather inside the band, a monocle, and in his flipper was a cane made of permafrost; crystalline and otherworldly, Faust would say if he had a single sane thought in his mind. He particularly liked Fred because the penguin would often make a joke about nothing, and never could the penguin remain on the topic at hand. And thus the conversations at the tea party often shifted before anything could be concluded.

At the opposite end of Fred was Nihil, a quiet fellow with black hair, long in the front and short in the back, wearing a peculiar goatee. His eyes were of the purest black, not a single white graced his sclera, and his lips were of the most sickening of blues. His lids were covered in dark circles, his skin as pale as snow with green tints here and there. Faust almost always confused him with a corpse, despite the fact that the man was not particularly bloated and appeared more skeletal if anything else. Then again, Faust constantly saw him as a corpse for just that very reason: either way you look at it, whether a bag of bones or a bloating critter, they were both dead things. Nihil wore a black suit with a white dress shirt, but did not particularly wear a hat. He did, however, wear a lovely crimson tie. It reminded them all of blood, so dark and beautiful.

On top of Faust's marvelous hat was a peculiar looking bunny. It was technically a full grown rabbit, mind you, but Faust preferred to call it a bunny due to the fact that it was adorable. It was snow white, with antlers, scarlet eyes, and a pair of fangs. It, too, wore a top hat; it was white with a black band, and dangling from it's brim off to the "side" was a rabbit's foot, which was dyed teal. Faust named him Jibberjabber.

The rest of the chairs were empty, but Faust believed that more people would come to partake in the tea party. After all, it began at 6 o'clock and wouldn't end until 6 o'clock, wherein it'll begin at 6 o'clock once more. And so, the four of them sipped their tea for some time in silence, until Faust, at last, spoke. "This tea is delicious!" He cried triumphantly. "It took many tries, but I finally managed to make it perfect! Thirteen lumps of sugar, a touch of cream..." Faust paused dramatically in the midst of speaking about the perfection of his beloved tea. "And a teaspoon of blood."

"Ah, Faust, deary," Oghma in a purring tone. "You truly are a genius at your craft. Why, just the other day, I was speaking to the Dragon just outside of your beloved home. He was arguing with me about how I would not look pretty in this dress. So, I ate him."

"Marvelous!" Faust clapped joyously. "Say, did you leave behind his eyes? It would be nice to use them for the ball tomorrow evening."

"If tomorrow ever comes..." Nihil murmured wearily. "It's only now six in the evening, yet not a second nor a minute has passed. For all I know, tomorrow is yesterday and today is tomorrow."

"Why Nihil, that reminds me of a grand ol' story," Fred replied swiftly. "Once there was a man from Nantucket..."

"By the Tentacles Beneath, Fred!" Faust interrupted. "Think of the children."

"Children?" Oghma and Nihil asked dubiously.

"Yes, the children... the orphans... they are right in front of us, you know. The roast chicken, the battered pork... the pie." Faust confirmed.

"Ah, what lovelies they are!" Oghma exclaimed, licking her rose-red lips as she looked at the meal. "I believe I'll have the leg of that one right over there, and perhaps some more of that dastardly tea!"

"Dastardly!" Faust yelled, rising from his seat. "Dastardly?!" He yelled again, rage in his emerald eyes, their cat-like pupils contracting dangerously. Oghma shrank into her seat, afraid that she would get the boot. "I tell you, woman, that this infernal tea is divine! It is an art that you cannot comprehend! You do not see me spinning webs with my teeth! Why, I can hardly spin anything without my faithful shoe."

"Why must we always talk about this blasted tea?" Nihil asked moodily. "We drink nothing but tea, and it's always six o'clock."

"That's because it's tea-time, my dear Nihil," Faust replied cheerfully, his ire forgotten. "Why, just the other day I was drinking tea with the gopher; you know, Phillis. She's quite wiley, that one. Until I shoved her into the pot. She didn't stir for at least one hundred and eighty years. Now that was horrible tea, my friend."

"Why Faust, shoving a gopher into tea doesn't make for a very good biscuit," Fred replied pointing at the odd-looking rabbit with his cane.

"I once saw a gopher," Nihil began, staring blankly across the table. "His name was Albert. I ought to bring him some time. A better companion than I, I'm sure."

"Oh, my dear Nihil," Faust sighed, as though preparing to comfort a child. "You're the life of my parties; even when there's no one else here but you. Why, I should give you a slab of mutton... or a slab of your arm. Either way, I shall give you gifts when you least expect them... or never. I suppose it depends. Probably after the tea party."

"Do they end?" Nihil asked, sighing with great melancholy. "If they do, I must never be awake. And when they begin, I'm always not here. Or I am. Or perhaps I dream of these parties and never wake. Or I'm awake, always dreaming of them."

"Why Nihil!" Oghma began, smiling. "You're so poetic. Why, if I had the amount of joy you possessed... well... I wouldn't know what to do with it! Please, recite me a lovely poem!"

"Bah!" Faust snorted. "Poetry is for the criminally insane. Why, just the other day, Jeeves (my butler, you know) hired a man to recite poetry for me. It was so horrendous and cacophonous that I had no choice but to fire him. But, the burning meat was more than I could bear, so I gave the burnt carcass to my beloved Jibberjabber and his bunnies."

"Ah, and what about the roses?" Asked Fred the penguin. "How do you keep them so well-kept during the winter?" As the penguin asked the question, he was staring at the rose bed, which literally surrounded the garden and littered the castle's forest.

"Now that, Fred, is a family secret..." Faust said cheerfully. Just as they were all about to sigh, he burst out laughing. "I used my family, of course!"

Oghma gasped with glee, smiling widely. Her Cheshire grin revealed razor-sharp fangs, her teeth perfectly, and abnormally, white. "Please elaborate, Faust! If you tell me your secret, I shall tell you mine!"

"Of course, my darling," Faust said with a low bow. "It all began with my second cousin, Horus. He was blathering to me about needing some money. I told him to enter the vault at the bottom of my castle, and he went. When he opened the vault..." he paused a moment as the three guests leaned in, eager to know the answer; even poor, unenthusiastic Nihil was eager to hear the answer. "BAM!" He yelled, falling back into his seat. Jibberjabber clinged to Faust's hat for dear life, not ready to fly off and die. "He triggered the spike trap. Now, you all know I'm a very clean man. I did not appreciate my selfish, unthoughtful second cousin bleeding on my floor without my permission. And so, I took him into the kitchen, demanded my maids to clean up the mess and to use the blood to water the roses. Then, I had to bury the idiot as punishment for pouring blood onto my nice, clean floor. So after I drained the rest of his blood so he couldn't cause any more mischief, I buried him in the garden so my roses could grow better. And they did." Faust elaborated this by spreading his arms wide, allowing them all to view the garden and notice the ugly, wicked, and wilting roses.

"So beautiful..." they all murmured with delight.

"Quite," Faust said with satisfaction.

"But, then, what of the crumpets?" Oghma asked, frowning.

"Weren't you supposed to bring them?" Faust asked.

"Ah! Of course!" Oghma exclaimed in revelation, searching her bag at the side of her chair. Finally, she smiled and brought forth a large silver platter of what they deemed as "crumpets", which was in reality bugs, rodents, and other miscellaneous things wrapped thickly in webbing. She sat the platter onto the circular stone table, but no one reached for them.

"Ah-hah!" Faust exclaimed. He brought forth a tiny silver bell and rang it with great enthusiasm. From the shadows of the forest approached a tall, bald, skeletal-looking man wearing nothing but black save for a red tie. He was as well dressed as the rest of the party, but unlike them, he seemed quite sane. His eyes, small, beady, and black, were quite dead. His skin, not quite as pale as Nihil's skin, was still quite pale. He looked to be middle aged.

As he approached Faust, he gave a deep bow and looked at his master with those dead eyes. "Jeeves, my beloved butler! You came just in the knick of time! Please, spread out the crumpets evenly about us, if you will."

Jeeves said nothing and simply obeyed, grabbing the platter and handing out the grotesque crumpets. They all received an equal share, except for Faust, who got double the amount. "Would you like to join us Jeeves?" Faust asked, almost as though he were bored. The butler said nothing. "Fine, off with you then. You have work to do anyway. Do something about those rats; they're killing my cheese!"

Jeeves practically melded into the darkness as he went to perform his task.

"A good man," Faust began anew. "But hardly the sort to be doing boring work. He's the most exciting man in the world, and yet enjoys performing the most heinous of chores."

"I concur," spoke Fred. "But sadly, the pidgeons keep plucking my crumbs of bread off the street!"

"Dearest Fred," said Oghma. "Pidgeons are the most loveliest of creatures. You could learn a thing or two from them. Like being able to breathe fire and ice, or learning to fly. Why, you would be marvelous at flying!"

"A flying penguin?" Nihil laughed sardonically. "It's as likely to happen as a worm learning how to be a gentleman."

"Worms are quite gentlemanly, I assure you," Faust chimed in with little to no enthusiasm. "They court and marry the dirt. I once had a conversation with a worm. Said he knew of another who could breathe fire and ice, with great wings that could cause a monsoon with a single flap. He also told me that his beloved wife, Dustine, is quite faithful and that they hardly ever quarrel. The only time they argue is when the laundry gets dirty or if a snake happens to walk in and interrupt their afternoon tea."

"You're quite mad, Faust," Nihil retorted. "Associating yourself with worms? They are beneath our station. Why, I'd rather speak to a peasant than to a worm."

"Are you insulting Bill? Bill, I'll have you know, is the most wealthy and royal of the worms. He is nearly a king amongst them! Why, if you speak ill of Bill, I'll cut out your eyes and place them into your heart... then you will know how dark and gloomy life truly is."

"Maddening..." Oghma groaned.

"Right so, old chap," Fred chimed in, siding with Faust. "Life is dark enough to drive us mad. Thankfully we're as sane as ducks."

"Ducks are quite mad," Faust murmured. "They're like doctors! They're quacks, the lot of them."

"I once knew an insane doctor," Oghma added. "He was rather ill with cholera and had a habit of speaking in rhyme. And every time I saw him, he would throw random things at me. Mostly shoes and boots, but sometimes scalpels and syringes, too."

"Speaking of throwing things..." the host mumbled. "It is nearly tea time."

"It's 6 o'clock already?" Nihil groaned, taking a bite from a drumstick. "Time truly is cruel."

"Worry not, Nihil," Faust murmured comfortingly. "You will be the life of the tea party; why, I just invited Oghma and Fred! Just for you. For me. For all of us. Especially for you."

"You're very considerate, Faust," Nihil said with much melancholy. "But truly I need to leave. I grow weary of this meaningless chatter."

"Nihil, my dearest friend," Faust cooed with a frown. "Do not wound me by your leaving. Your company keeps me sane. Keeps you sane. Keeps us all sane. Your sorrow is the brightest light, and truly you would not be so selfish as to take that light away from those in need?"

Nihil contemplated this conundrum with great effort. On one hand, he was really, truly tired. On the other, he had much disdain for those who did not share with those in need. After much consideration, Nihil remained in his seat. "Of course I'm not so selfish as to deprive my friends from my light. But, I must leave after 6 o'clock."

"Of course!" Faust agreed appreciatively. "Now... would you like some tea? I made it especially for you, my dear friend."

"Of course," Nihil replied with a tone of indifference. "I appreciate your hospitality."

Oghma spoke up swiftly. "Dear Faust," she began. "When shall you ever visit the dearies? They've been wanting to see you for quite some time. So much so, that I wish you could come over. Why, just the other day they tried to smother me! I love my children so, but too much love can kill a woman, you know."

"Yes, yes," Faust agreed, his expression one of great contemplation. "I shall see them tomorrow, just before 6 o'clock. In the mean time, before you leave, I shall give you a gift to give to them. They would absolutely love it!"

"Oh!" Oghma brightened up. "May I ask what this marvelous gift is?"

"A penguin!" Faust cried, laughing merrily.

"Now where are you going to get a penguin, my dear friend?" Fred asked, his tone one of curiosity and bliss.

"You'll know when you see it, dear Fred," Faust reassured him. "For now, enjoy some tea. Your eyes are starting to swell."

"Ah, tea does keep my swellings down," Fred agreed, sipping a cup of cold tea. "You know me so well, Faust. So much so, it reminds me of a story. I was walking down the street and I saw a polar bear. He wanted to give me a hug. I took his eyes instead."

"Truly, you are a clever penguin," Faust guffawed. "You took only what you need and not what you want. You're very wise."

"Indeed," Oghma concurred. "Why, just this morning, I found an elk along the road. Dead, of course, because a live elk wouldn't let me talk to him for hours on end. After telling him my story, I gave him some of my eggs for dinner tonight. The poor truly are caring creatures."

"Ah, but I have met a live elk once," Faust began. "Quite a clever rascal that one. It took me hours to mount him onto the wall above the fireplace. He wouldn't quit squirming. So, I had to chop off his body just to get his head onto the wall."

"Living things are often troublesome," Nihil added. "Which is why I avoid them. Of course, you are all the exception. You're not as lively as the living, but not as boring as the dead, either. You're perfect just the way you are. Which is why you're imperfect; thus perfect. It is a sickening cycle."

Faust remained quiet as he lounged back into his chair, sipping tea and dipping the web crumpets into the tea as he ate them. The peculiar rabbit on his head tumbled down from the hat and onto Faust's lap, and then an idea came to him like a bolt of lightning. "Since I am the host of this little tea party, I propose that I entertain you!"

They all cheered and agreed, clapping their hands together. "Yes," Oghma giggled. "Show us one of your many talents!"

"That is the plan, my dear Spider Queen," Faust remarked severely, making the woman shrink back into her seat. Faust removed his hat from atop his head as he pulled out a thin stick, a baton, from the breast pocket of his suit. He tapped the hat as he faced the opening downward with the baton. "There is nothing in the hat, aye?" He began, and they all nodded, absorbed in the entertainment. One thing everybody knew: nothing was ever allowed to step foot into that hat. "Now watch as I pull something out of the hat's bottom. No sleight of hand, no deception; purely magic." As if to emphasize his point, he flicked the baton towards Oghma, who was about to throw herself out of her chair (vainly, for the baton spun through the air faster than she could move), until the baton burst into thousands upon thousands of black rose petals. Their sweet scent filled her nostrils and she was quickly at ease again.

Faust thrust his hand into the hat, more than elbow deep and his hand did not break through the top. He was wholly concentrated on the trick, and when he finally grasped something, he smiled widely and let out a loud "ah-hah!" When he pulled his hand out of the hat, a penguin appeared. To be more precise, it was Fred, who had just been sitting next to Oghma just seconds ago.

They all clapped except for Fred, whose face was locked in consternation. The poor thing shuddered and couldn't speak. "And for my next trick..." Faust began, aloof. He casually tossed the penguin across the table, landing in Oghma's lap. "I shall pull the World out of my hat!"

There were many oooooohs and aaaaaaahs from Oghma and the ever melancholic Nihil; but the penguin shivered in Oghma's lap, unaware of what was happening. Faust shoved his hand shoulder-deep into the hat, and with some visible difficulty, he was able to pull out a beautiful marble with many blues and greens. It was the size of the human eye. When he moved it, the world around them rocked and churned. "The World! How beautiful. Why, it would make for a beautiful necklace, don't you think Oghma?" Faust asked, eyes twinkling.

"I think it would be better if we simply destroyed it." Nihil interrupted, his pessimism thick in the air.

"Bah! I think it would make for a marvelous necklace. Or a ring. Or an eye..." Faust argued playfully, though his eyes were fastened on the beautiful Spider Queen.

"I agree, it would make for a beautiful eye. Why, it would make you all the more handsome, Lord Faust!" Oghma chimed, eyes fastened on the beautiful marble.

Faust smiled and bowed. "Perhaps, it should be given to Nihil. His melancholy could use another color than simply greys and blacks. Why, anything blacker than black would kill poor Nihil!"

"Truly you are selfless!" Oghma gasped, pleased at the idea of charity.

"Truly I am selfish," Faust retorted whimsically. "For I want Nihil to have it, and I will not take 'no' for an answer. In fact, I'm more selfish because it would make me happy to make him happy. Or dead."

"Truly, you are kind," Nihil said with much mockery. "Is it past six?" He asked, rubbing his eyes.
"Oh no, it's still 6 o'clock right now!" Faust replied enthusiastically.

"Ah, then I suppose I have no choice but to accept your offer, my friend," Nihil groaned, rising from his chair and approaching Faust. "If you truly wish it, then I will selflessly indulge you." Faust grabbed Nihil's shoulder and brought him closer. With his empty hand, he quickly plucked out Nihil's eyes and deftly replaced the empty socket with the World. Nihil cried out in pain and ecstasy throughout the endeavor, and eventually fell back, placing his hand over the wound. When he finally removed his hand, tears of blood ran down his face and he laughed with a kind of mania that brought a smile to Faust's face.

"There, he's happy now. Happy in his own sadness. Such a delight." He said merrily, though his smile quickly faded. "But now he'll be boring. Boring!" Faust huffed with anguish. Before he could remedy the situation, Nihil ran away, laughing, towards the forest. Before he could make it to the edge, tendrils of thorns rushed out and greeted the euphoric man, impaling him.

"No one leaves my garden until the tea party is over," Faust scolded the corpse, whose head lolled back and whose face was locked in a wide grin of ultimate despair. Faust stomped here and there, throwing a tantrum of obscene rage. "We're no longer friends, Nihil! So much so, that I'm going to take your head. Your body has no use to me, anyway. You can keep that blasted thing and leave. Never return, or I will feed you to my jackalopes..." And with that, Faust walked away, only to stop, turn, and stare at the pools of blood. "And you have spilled blood onto my garden! How dare you insult me so, sir! I say good day!" Faust shouted, grabbing the corpse's head by the hair and ripping it off. He returned to the table and slammed the head back onto the silver platter, and marched back over to the corpse.

"And more blood! Why, I'm starting to think you truly wanted to end our friendship. How dare you disrespect my home by spilling blood everywhere!" Faust reached into his pocket and pulled out the silver bell, flailing it around; the once beautiful sound was now a cacophony of screeches and shrills, a sound so ugly that one would question if there was such a thing as a banshee. Jeeves appeared from the dark of the forest as he had once done, shadows melting away from him like silk curtains. "Jeeves! Show Nihil the way out. Or don't. Feed him to my bunnies. But clean up this mess!" Faust ordered Jeeves, his rage radiating with a chillness that made even the darkness creep away from him. Jeeves simply bowed and said nothing, tending to his business and ringing a bell of brass. The other servants appeared, all ghoulish and ugly, tending to the blood in the garden and to the body. Eventually, nothing was left.

Faust sat back down at the table. "It's one past six. The tea party is over," he said merrily, though his eyes had shown a sadness that was only reminiscent to a child who's day was at an end. "Ta-ta!" He told Oghma, who watched the affair with much amusement. With a nod, she rose from her seat, the penguin shoved into sack of webbing, and she began to leave.

"Oh!" She yelped suddenly, turning to Faust. "You will come to see the darlings tomorrow? Will you bring them a gift?" Oghma asked, saddened to leave.

"Of course! You know I can never resist their cheeky grins, their glimmering fangs, and their cute, bulbous bodies! Why, they look very delicious!"

Oghma laughed, bowed, and left the garden whilst carrying with her, Fred the Penguin. Faust sat alone in the garden for some time, staring at his watch and ignoring the head that sat at the center of the table.

It was nearing six o'clock.

Staring into the Black

Awesome. I'll start working on the RP tomorrow. Hopefully more people will jump on the interest train by the time I post it. Can't wait to get this started ^^

Staring into the Black

@twannyman@greywolf375

Awesome! Let's just hope we get more people interested ^^

Staring into the Black

Introduction

Allo! ^^

Sess here. I bring to you an RP that isn't wholly sandbox like my previous ones. This RP is story-oriented and demands character development. It is an adventure RP that could potentially be filled with shenanigans. However, I must first explain what you will be encountering in this RP! You will experience space travel, advanced tech, and magic. Why magic? Because I always tinkered with the idea of what would happen if magic did follow the rules of physics. Always the philosopher and a dabbler in quantum mechanics, I wish to provide my own theories as well as providing some measure of realism to this otherwise sci-fi RP. Note, however, that this RP does not have elves, orcs, and such... it's just alien species of my own creation (and perhaps your own if you want to put in the effort). I have, however, put some thought into evolution, especially towards humans. They have no physical changes, but their genetic makeup had been modified through the course of time that they are highly adaptive (think of a Saiyan's zenkai boost, but on a slightly shorter scale).

Nevertheless, this is merely an Interest Check and it will not have the FULL details of what the RP will be like. You're only getting a brief history and the "modern" era thereafter. As for how advanced the tech is... well... I'll explain that further down the road :P

Now please, read this:

SitB Overview

Galaxy Theta. Once, it was a war-torn galaxy invaded by the Sharnaathi, an alien species of warriors born from doom itself from the edges of the universe. The nihilistic horde of conquerors brought with them fear and stolen technology, taking over planets and systems that they decided not to destroy, enslaving the many survivors of their constant blitz, sacrificing them to their dead gods or mating with them out of sick amusement. The Covenant, an alliance and council of the species of Galaxy Theta, were constantly fighting against the galactic terror for what seemed an eternity... thirty years of war, and it felt like forever for every Human, Vasque, and Skaah who would lay in bed, wondering if they were next on the list of planets to be conquered or destroyed at a mere whim.

Then, when hope seemed lost, a single man rose from the ashes of war. He had invented new tech, fought battles personally, and eventually became known as the "God of Death" to the Sharnaathi... and the fearless warriors found themselves facing their own nightmare. They saw fear for the first time in their existence and they fled as swiftly as they came, surrendering left and right when he showed himself at any battle.

The war ended, and this man was feared by all within the galaxy. It came as no surprise that such a person could win a war if he became even worse than the Sharnaathi, given the horrors they inflicted upon the lesser species; and yet, they feared him for that very reason. The Covenant, needing a scapegoat for the horrors that they allowed to happen during the war to turn the tide, sentenced him to a fate worse than death: Banishment through the Black Gate. The Black Gate was an ancient alien artifact reserved solely to plunge a criminal to the Twilight Zone, a dimension said to be worse than Hell itself. Inescapable and seemingly drifting towards a Super Massive Black Hole.

This brought ease to the damaged galaxy, and slowly did they rebuild their once peaceful union. However, with the scars of war still present, the military was increased, the technology brought about the man they had once deemed a hero was destroyed and lost, and the galaxy began anew. The Vasque, Humans, and Skaahs strengthened their ties and strengthened their government, ruling with an iron fist and crushing any rebellion to preserve the peace and safety of their galaxy in case the Sharnaathi ever regrouped and stage a second conquest... to stage annihilation.

After three centuries, the scars of war were soothed and the Covenant ruled as an absolute power. The military continued to act as officers of the law, constantly being trained during new technological advancements, and they were always upgraded with new cybernetic enhancements that were dubbed standard issue by the Covenant. Surprisingly, religion had resurfaced during the three hundred years of reconstruction, which even assisted in the further advancement of tech. It is unknown how this new religion resurfaced, but it was said that a handful of people had seen visions of Paradise and the knowledge that dwelled within, inspired by their new "God." These prophets were forever immortalized within their main church through carbon freezing (becoming statues that lined the walls of the main chamber).

Despite the reinforced laws of the Covenant and the arise of a new church, many planets struggle to keep their freedom and individual rights. The trade of goods to certain systems are prohibited, causing some to be forced into smuggling. Neutral systems and planets who are not registered under the Covenant are often ignored, leaving them vulnerable to other attacks, like space pirates or alien species from another galaxy. Because of these variables, even the facade of peace erected by the Covenant is apparent to outcasts and explorers, which often forces them to make a choice: to return home and forget it all, or to find some way to help those who are without the protection and care of the Covenant.

Technology

The current technology used by those within Galaxy Theta varies greatly, but can be summed up by a short list. Super metals and plasma. These two forms of technology are what advanced the galaxy to great heights. Though energy shields are used, the super metal used for ships is made of vibranium, a unique substance that appears solid yet possesses an excitable molecular structure (hence its name). Not only is vibranium used for ships and stations, but it is also used for weaponry, ranging from combat knives to swords to pistols to heavy artillery. Unlike bullets as we know it, they have a much greater effect upon impact, which is also highly increased by the secondary component: electromagnets. Due to the unique nature of the metal, it is highly compatible to electromagnetic technology, unable to warp a gun's barrel due to its already "unstable" molecular structure.

Plasma technology, however, came about since the first Fusion Drive... the dream-to-reality for those who sought to journey among the stars. The Fusion Drive was the first step to plasma technology, being the leap brought about by a successful cold fusion through a reworked method that brought in constant results and very little variables. Since the first starship, the Fusion Drive was constantly reworked into a more safe design. Plasma weaponry is compatible with vibranium and ammo comes in the form of Fusion Batteries. There is also laser weaponry and technology, which was also redefined with the advancements in harnessing energy. Though lasers are much weaker than plasma, they are also less dangerous and have fewer risks.

Aside from those, there is also cellular regeneration in the medical field, which can also restore lost limbs or organs in lieu of cybernetic prosthetics. Cybernetic implants are also a thing, most reserved for soldiers in the Covenant's military.

This is merely a taste of the RP. I hope I caught your all's attention. If you have any questions, please ask and I'll answer.

On the Horizon: A Modern Day God RP

Amaterasu for me. Never got to play a female before, so... w00t? '>.>