Tea

THE UNDYING CRUSADE

Never had this happened before.

Not the marshalling of men and the sharpening of blades, the last night of unblemished calm before a great bloodletting - that had happened many a time. For as long as living beings had walked the world, there had been war, and war would go on for as long as men were alive to wage it. Something about this one was different, though, and as Dorian Ad-Elyan trudged through the encampment he tried to put a finger on what it was. It wasn't the camp itself that was different, although it was by far the largest Dorian had ever seen. The characters assembled here were of an eclectic sort, but that wasn't unusual in itself. To march wide-eyed into a land ruled by godless terrors bound neither to life nor death required a certain eccentricity, and this unconventional bunch certainly fit the description.

Dorian passed a disgruntled dwarf, cooking what smelled like bacon in a small pan over an open flame. Several other dwarfs in similar attire had formed a circle around him and were holding a large shield over his head to keep their meal from being cut short by the weather. Seeing this, it suddenly occurred to Dorian how lacklustre his preparations had been. All he had done before leaving the inn was sharpen his sword and fill his water flask. He hadn't even brought a tent, though he saw no need for one. He had slept many nights under the stars.

He even began to doubt his very presence here - when he answered the Duchess' call he had pictured a swift incursion into Undying territory, perhaps to support a larger force, or strike quickly at a key stronghold before reinforcements could be called to defend it, but the number and quality of soldiers gathered around him was enough to fight a war or spearhead a full scale invasion. Would they be fighting pitched battles? The men Dorian could see were certainly prepared for it - some of them were so thickly armoured they looked as though they could charge down a rampaging bull and win. Clad only in sturdy leather and a thick, emerald cloak, Dorian felt almost naked by comparison.

He stopped when he reached the hastily-erected stage, and the answer finally struck him. These men and women were not gathering to defend their territory, they were gathering to reclaim it. Now that he had identified it, he could feel it; even hear it, crackling through the air like thunder. It was hope. The only hope the people of the three kingdoms had ever had was that of survival - the faintest, most desperate hope that their city wouldn't be the next to fall to the Undying hordes. Dorian looked around at the nearby tents again and this time he could see it, too. That's what had never happened before - the real, tangible hope that for once, the living could turn the tide against the dead.

THE UNDYING CRUSADE

Dorian Ad-Elyan

Name: Dorian Ad-Elyan

Age: 36

Appearance: Stands somewhat taller than the average man, with long legs and broad shoulders. Untamed black hair tumbles down to his shoulders, often concealing his rugged good looks. A face bearing the unmistakable roughness of years spent in the wilderness belies his noble birth, but he carries himself with pride and demeanour worthy of a prince, and speaks in the often florid tongues of a learned man. No false smile can hide the sadness from his eyes; a deep, all-consuming sadness which envelopes anyone who should catch his gaze.

When not travelling, he wears nothing more than the dark clothes of a man who wishes to move unseen through the shadows. When on the road or when there is likely to be danger, he covers his chest, shoulders and arms with well-crafted leather armour, and wears a heavy, hooded cloak when in the wilderness.



Race: Human

Deity: Once prayed to Monia, Goddess of Life and Healing, though she was known by a different name in his land. He no longer worships any god, believing that they have forsaken him.

Personality: Once a bright-eyed young man whose charm, wit and good humour earned him a warm welcome in any company, Dorian saw too much horror, too early. Tragedy after tragedy bleached the warmth from his smile and the hope from his eyes, and the harsh reality of life after the First Undying War ground his idealism into ashes, to be replaced by the grim acceptance that a man must do whatever it takes to survive.

To some, he may seem distant or aloof. He rarely speaks out of turn, shows little passion or enthusiasm for success or reward, and will stand unflinching in the face of all but the most nightmarish of foes. However, behind this resolute exterior lies a broken man. He has a tendency to grow deeply attached to his companions, and considers himself solely responsible for their safety. He is deeply afflicted by the fear of losing anyone else in his life, and it is this fear that drives him to distance himself from others.

Skills:
Masterful:
Swordsmanship
Skilled:
Archery
Outdoorsmanship/Survival
Adept:
Tracking
Sneaking
Novice:
Non-Magical Medicines

Traits:
Resilience: After the tragedies of his youth, there is little of Dorian's heart left to break, and he is no longer repulsed by even the most grotesque horrors, nor brought to tears by the most brutal suffering. Though it makes facing down the Undying easy, his companions find this apparent lack of emotion to be almost inhuman, and find him incredibly difficult to empathise with.
Resourcefulness: Years spent first as a street urchin and then a lone survivor in the woods have made Dorian a master of quickly analysing a situation and forming a plan. One quick look around a room will, to his trained eyes, reveal a number of advantages which could be gained, or weaknesses which could be exploited.

Backstory: Dorian was born Third Prince of Elya, a small land of little significance on the eastern continent. He was, like all Ad-Elyans before him, destined for a life of quiet comfort. The Crown had ceded almost all its political power to a military council some centuries ago, and since then the Kings and Queens of Elya had been little more than figureheads; presiding over public festivals, fulfilling largely ceremonial duties in the military and receiving envoys from other states. Dorian's life was to be no different. He spent his youth in the royal library, enthralled by dusty tomes telling tales of lands distant and deeds heroic, or sparring with his siblings and the King's finest swordsmen. None suspected that the reign of Dorian's father was to be the last of any King in Elya, and that the boy would soon find his peaceful life in flames. None, save for the Marshals - the five members of the ruling council.

Long years of peace had made the Marshals lazy, and they had allowed greed to corrupt them. Where Elya's wealth had once been spread fairly, new taxes were being levied daily for every conceivable activity, with the proceeds spent on great works of vanity; monuments and lavish banquets. Resistance to the Marshals' rule began to spring up, only to be quelled on the end of a soldier's sword. The Marshals could see that a great revolt was bubbling under the surface, and decided to protect their position by deflecting blame onto the King, who had been deliberately kept oblivious to the suffering of his people.

The rebels marched on the royal keep. Those few remaining guards who had declared loyalty to the King fought valiantly but could do nothing in the face of the frenzied mob and their sheer numbers. Dorian, a boy all of seven years old, watched aghast as his father was hacked to pieces where he stood, and his mother was dragged away to become the victim of unspeakable atrocities. The boy grasped his father's sword and made to defend himself, but was picked up by a fleeing servant and carried, with his elder brothers, to the royal docks. The three boys were bundled onto a merchant vessel, money changed hands and the King's wishes were fulfilled. His children were safe.

Dorian's last memory of Elya was seeing the royal keep - his childhood home - go up in flames.

The merchant ship docked some weeks later in the port city of Nabina, in the distant land of Naul Rahn. Here, a war had recently broken out and Dorian's brothers were welcomed into the city guard as expert swordsmen, though he himself was too young. He attended a local school by day and spent his nights as he had in his homeland - in the library, searching for any mention of his old home. As the months went by, reports would filter through of defeat after defeat in the field. His brothers were called away on duty more often and would return with tales of strange creatures sighted over the walls. Four years after their arrival in Nabina, the city was besieged by the Undying. Dorian, now eleven years old, fled the city with the other refugees. His brothers were killed defending the city from their foes.

Now orphaned, the boy followed other refugees southeast, deeper into Naul Rahn, to the city of Cartella. Here he found that the only way to put food in his hands was to fall in with the local underworld. For four years, the King's son lived as a pickpocket and petty burglar, fearing that every day would be his last as Undying hordes ravaged the land and the city was besieged, coming within inches of defeat. By his fifteenth birthday, the War of Ruin had ended. Many of the children who had been orphaned by the war were adopted, and Dorian was able to leave the petty criminal underworld behind when he was taken in by a kindly old hunter, who lived on the outskirts of the woods with his daughter.

The years following the War of Ruin were peaceful and relatively happy ones for Dorian who, having lost his home and family twice, had managed to find a new one. He fell in love with the old man's daughter and married her. He would hunt in the woods with his adoptive father, feeding the other refugees as they tried to rebuild their lives, and when the old man passed away he stayed in the hunter's lodge with his wife, there to live out the rest of his days in the tranquility his youth had promised him.

Unfortunately, the world around him was not the one he had grown up in, and tragedy would befall again when the War of Perseverance broke out. A swordsman of prowess and repute, Dorian was drafted into the city guard and fought atop Cartella's walls to defend it when the Undying horde struck for a second time. Though the walls stood and the city survived, the outskirts had been ravaged and when he returned home, it was to find his house torn down and his wife and closest friends slaughtered like cattle by the monstrous onslaught.

To have his heart broken and life set aflame for a third time, at such a young age, finally crushed Dorian's spirit. Standing before the smouldering ruins of his home, he raised his father's sword to the sky and screamed until his voice was hoarse, cursing every god he could name for allowing such a thing to happen.

A broken man, he retreated into the mountains, where he would hone his skills and brood over thoughts of revenge. Those who had known him thought him dead, until he answered the Duchess' call. Dorian Ad-Elyan will join the fight against the Undying, and whether by life or death will find peace.

Gear and Possessions: Dorian's life has been built around travelling swift and light, and he has little use for armour other than the dark clothes, hooded cloak and hardened, well-crafted leather he purchased from a blacksmith in Cartella. He keeps his adoptive father's bow primarily for hunting, preferring to use the Elyan King's sword as a weapon. It is a long, double-edged blade, forged from exceptionally fine steel; light enough to be wielded with one hand or two. The sword is of simple design, its only remarkable features being the ornate pattern of gold and silver inlaid on the hilt, long since faded out of sight. The sharp but aged weapon suits the somewhat bedraggled appearance of the man who wields it. Dorian only carries whatever equipment is necessary; a stone to whet the blade, flint to start a fire in the wilderness and a flask of water.

THE UNDYING CRUSADE

Alright, I'm pretty much settled on a character. I haven't RPed in quite a few years, since before I grew up, got a job and started paying bills. My characters would invariably turn out to be heroes; virtuous, noble, charming. Even my villains were usually honourable and fought for some greater cause, rather than being evil for evil's sake. I was therefore pretty shocked at myself when I stopped typing and realised I'd created a broken husk of a man. I had to tone down the tragedy a little bit before I posted, otherwise he'd be almost completely unlikable. I wonder what that says about how my life has changed in the last few years, lol.

I still have the last two paragraphs of the backstory to write, along with the weapons and equipment part, and I may change what already exists substantially before I'm happy with it, but this is what I have for now.

Like I said, it's been a while since I did this, so I'm open to feedback. I haven't really adjusted to the particular ways and means of this forum compared to what I'm used to, so please tell me if I'm full of crap and need to change something ^^

Dorian Ad-Elyan

Name: Dorian Ad-Elyan

Age: 36

Appearance: Stands somewhat taller than the average man, with long legs and broad shoulders. Untamed black hair tumbles down to his shoulders, often concealing his rugged good looks. A face bearing the unmistakable roughness of years spent in the wilderness belies his noble birth, but he carries himself with pride and demeanour worthy of a prince, and speaks in the often florid tongues of a learned man. No false smile can hide the sadness from his eyes; a deep, all-consuming sadness which envelopes anyone who should catch his gaze.

When not travelling, he wears nothing more than the dark clothes of a man who wishes to move unseen through the shadows. When on the road or when there is likely to be danger, he covers his chest, shoulders and arms with well-crafted leather armour, and wears a heavy, hooded cloak when in the wilderness.



Race: Human

Deity: Once prayed to Monia, Goddess of Life and Healing, though she was known by a different name in his land. He no longer worships any god, believing that they have forsaken him.

Personality: Once a bright-eyed young man whose charm, wit and good humour earned him a warm welcome in any company, Dorian saw too much horror, too early. Tragedy after tragedy bleached the warmth from his smile and the hope from his eyes, and the harsh reality of life after the First Undying War ground his idealism into ashes, to be replaced by the grim acceptance that a man must do whatever it takes to survive.

To some, he may seem distant or aloof. He rarely speaks out of turn, shows little passion or enthusiasm for success or reward, and will stand unflinching in the face of all but the most nightmarish of foes. However, behind this resolute exterior lies a broken man. He has a tendency to grow deeply attached to his companions, and considers himself solely responsible for their safety. He is deeply afflicted by the fear of losing anyone else in his life, and it is this fear that drives him to distance himself from others.

Skills:
Masterful:
Swordsmanship
Skilled:
Archery
Outdoorsmanship/Survival
Adept:
Tracking
Sneaking
Novice:
Non-Magical Medicines

Traits:
Resilience: After the tragedies of his youth, there is little of Dorian's heart left to break, and he is no longer repulsed by even the most grotesque horrors, nor brought to tears by the most brutal suffering. Though it makes facing down the Undying easy, his companions find this apparent lack of emotion to be almost inhuman, and find him incredibly difficult to empathise with.
Resourcefulness: Years spent first as a street urchin and then a lone survivor in the woods have made Dorian a master of quickly analysing a situation and forming a plan. One quick look around a room will, to his trained eyes, reveal a number of advantages which could be gained, or weaknesses which could be exploited.

Backstory: Dorian was born Third Prince of Elya, a small land of little significance on the eastern continent. He was, like all Ad-Elyans before him, destined for a life of quiet comfort. The Crown had ceded almost all its political power to a military council some centuries ago, and since then the Kings and Queens of Elya had been little more than figureheads; presiding over public festivals, fulfilling largely ceremonial duties in the military and receiving envoys from other states. Dorian's life was to be no different. He spent his youth in the royal library, enthralled by dusty tomes telling tales of lands distant and deeds heroic, or sparring with his siblings and the King's finest swordsmen. None suspected that the reign of Dorian's father was to be the last of any King in Elya, and that the boy would soon find his peaceful life in flames. None, save for the Marshals - the five members of the ruling council.

Long years of peace had made the Marshals lazy, and they had allowed greed to corrupt them. Where Elya's wealth had once been spread fairly, new taxes were being levied daily for every conceivable activity, with the proceeds spent on great works of vanity; monuments and lavish banquets. Resistance to the Marshals' rule began to spring up, only to be quelled on the end of a soldier's sword. The Marshals could see that a great revolt was bubbling under the surface, and decided to protect their position by deflecting blame onto the King, who had been deliberately kept oblivious to the suffering of his people.

The rebels marched on the royal keep. Those few remaining guards who had declared loyalty to the King fought valiantly but could do nothing in the face of the frenzied mob and their sheer numbers. Dorian, a boy all of seven years old, watched aghast as his father was hacked to pieces where he stood, and his mother was dragged away to become the victim of unspeakable atrocities. The boy grasped his father's sword and made to defend himself, but was picked up by a fleeing servant and carried, with his elder brothers, to the royal docks. The three boys were bundled onto a merchant vessel, money changed hands and the King's wishes were fulfilled. His children were safe.

Dorian's last memory of Elya was seeing the royal keep - his childhood home - go up in flames.

The merchant ship docked some weeks later in the port city of Nabina, in the distant land of Naul Rahn. Here, a war had recently broken out and Dorian's brothers were welcomed into the city guard as expert swordsmen, though he himself was too young. He attended a local school by day and spent his nights as he had in his homeland - in the library, searching for any mention of his old home. As the months went by, reports would filter through of defeat after defeat in the field. His brothers were called away on duty more often and would return with tales of strange creatures sighted over the walls. Four years after their arrival in Nabina, the city was besieged by the Undying. Dorian, now eleven years old, fled the city with the other refugees. His brothers were killed defending the city from their foes.

Now orphaned, the boy followed other refugees southeast, deeper into Naul Rahn, to the city of Cartella. Here he found that the only way to put food in his hands was to fall in with the local underworld. For four years, the King's son lived as a pickpocket and petty burglar, fearing that every day would be his last as Undying hordes ravaged the land and the city was besieged, coming within inches of defeat. By his fifteenth birthday, the War of Ruin had ended. Many of the children who had been orphaned by the war were adopted, and Dorian was able to leave the petty criminal underworld behind when he was taken in by a kindly old hunter, who lived on the outskirts of the woods with his daughter.

The years following the War of Ruin were peaceful and relatively happy ones for Dorian who, having lost his home and family twice, had managed to find a new one. He fell in love with the old man's daughter and married her. He would hunt in the woods with his adoptive father, feeding the other refugees as they tried to rebuild their lives, and when the old man passed away he stayed in the hunter's lodge with his wife, there to live out the rest of his days in the tranquility his youth had promised him.

Unfortunately, the world around him was not the one he had grown up in, and tragedy would befall again when the War of Perseverance broke out. A swordsman of prowess and repute, Dorian was drafted into the city guard and fought atop Cartella's walls to defend it when the Undying horde struck for a second time. Though the walls stood and the city survived, the outskirts had been ravaged and when he returned home, it was to find his house torn down and his wife and closest friends slaughtered like cattle by the monstrous onslaught.

To have his heart broken and life set aflame for a third time, at such a young age, finally crushed Dorian's spirit. Standing before the smouldering ruins of his home, he raised his father's sword to the sky and screamed until his voice was hoarse, cursing every god he could name for allowing such a thing to happen.

A broken man, he retreated into the mountains, where he would hone his skills and brood over thoughts of revenge. Those who had known him thought him dead, until he answered the Duchess' call. Dorian Ad-Elyan will join the fight against the Undying, and whether by life or death will find peace.

Gear and Possessions: Dorian's life has been built around travelling swift and light, and he has little use for armour other than the dark clothes, hooded cloak and hardened, well-crafted leather he purchased from a blacksmith in Cartella. He keeps his adoptive father's bow primarily for hunting, preferring to use the Elyan King's sword as a weapon. It is a long, double-edged blade, forged from exceptionally fine steel; light enough to be wielded with one hand or two. The sword is of simple design, its only remarkable features being the ornate pattern of gold and silver inlaid on the hilt, long since faded out of sight. The sharp but aged weapon suits the somewhat bedraggled appearance of the man who wields it. Dorian only carries whatever equipment is necessary; a stone to whet the blade, flint to start a fire in the wilderness and a flask of water.

THE UNDYING CRUSADE

Just to understand this world a little better, how many years are we talking between the First War, the Second War and the present day? I have the beginnings of a character forming.

Starship Crew

That sounds great. I'll definitely join in. So many different roles it would be fun to fill, I can't decide which ^^

Starship Crew

It sounds like a good concept and exactly the sort of setting I'd be interested in. How would it work, exactly? Would each person have their own crew and ship to RP, or would we all have just the one character on the same ship?

*salute*

Thanks, chaps :)

@ArenaSnow Those Mech images are from MechCommander, right? That was an awesome game.

*salute*

Hello :)

I started RPing almost ten years ago, but for various reasons I dropped the hobby "temporarily" and never really got around to picking it up again. I recently started a new degree, and getting back into the swing of writing essays has made me realise how much I miss writing for fun, so I'm very much looking to start RPing again. I've been lurking around a couple of RP forums and you guys seem like the closest match to what I'm looking for.

I can't wait to get stuck in!