TomeBinder

The Elder Scrolls: The Collector Chronicles

Olaf the bandit blinked stupidly at the monstrous Orc woman in front of him, despite the blazing pain in his face. He wanted to tell her to go to Oblivion, and express her complete physical ugliness in the most colourful language he could muster. However, Magnor was dead; the fat bastard had died, stuffed like a pig by three shafts. He'd killed many men, that man, including Olaf's brother in a time the bandit could now barely remember. There was no more reason to fight these people.

"Mead with Juniper Berry?" The bandit asked, his face contort with confusion. "You just came in here, killed everyone, for mead? There are dragons flying around burning everyone, a civil war raging across the Jarldoms, and you're here for a drink?"

The lady Orc gave him another good clobbering, and Olaf's semi-intelligence made a fleeting return to his otherwise desolate brain. When it came down to it, he didn't want to die. Dying was bad. He'd seen several people die in his twenty four years.

"Okay, OKAY!" Olaf said, spitting blood and broken teeth. "Try the tavern you morons, where else is it going to be? Magnor's arse? You can check up there if you like, don't think he'll mind."

The group slowly looked up the road, towards the burnt out shell of the tavern. It was a sorry affair, all burnt timbers and scorched thatch - like the rest of Helgen. The bandit made some sense, if there was going to be mead anywhere, then they were probably going to find it there.

Jungle Fever: A Vietnam War Survival RP

A whole company? O_o

@idlehands

A whole company.

It's okay though. You guys have got the lead... just you know, don't get caught up or something.

Jungle Fever: A Vietnam War Survival RP

Colonel Le Cong Hung chomped casually on a thick Cuban cigar as he looked upon the slumped body of Han Chien.

"So my friend," Le said softly. "Here ends your legend."

The Colonel was a wiry, small man of sixty. Wisps of iron hair descended from a ragged French military cap. Half a dozen American dogtags swung from his neck. He had cold and calculating eyes, and it was often said he could see right through someone's intentions just by glancing at them. Though behind his aged, hardened exterior of a war hero who had seen ten too many battles, Colonel Hung was a kindly man.

"Have him and his men buried, I will not let the forest make mockery of their forms," Le said.

Captain Thuan gave the Colonel a crisp salute, in the western style. Colonel Hung let the gesture go, deciding not to make an issue of it. If there was one thing the Colonel disliked, it was his men mimicking the Americans - but Chien needed to be buried, and reprimands could wait until after his killers had been found.

"Americans, Americans," he grumbled, "always so troublesome. Why are you here? Why are you maiming and killing my people?"

As if to highlight his words, the front of the nearby crashed UH-1 burst into smoke and flame. Two of Hung's men flew backwards, their jungle-green BDUs torn and bloodied by shrapnel. Half the company threw themselves to the floor, thinking they'd been hit by a mortar. Colonel Hung just stood there, letting the smoke and anguished screams wash over him as if he'd seen it a thousand times before. Well, he had.

"Americans, Americans," he said, "always so resourceful."

Hero Company (although officially designated B Company, Lima Battalion), had arrived on the back of a dozen Urals - courtesy of Russia. Chien's flare had been spotted by the village a short time previous, and a local VC operative informed the Colonel of the sound of intense gunfire across the river.

Colonel Hung was a man renowned for his speed and efficiency; he could almost march his men through the jungle quicker than the Americans could fly over it, or so they said. Hung did not purport the foolishness of this belief, but he did not deny it either. The peoples needed a hero in these dark days of napalm bombs and massacres. He was it. With all of this in mind, his arrival from his nearby "fort" had been a swift affair. He knew the American choppers had crashed in the area, and knew there may have been survivors; his company was ready to move before Chien's flare was even spotted.

Even now, he could hear the distinctive rattle of American-borne weapons some distance off in the jungle. He figured they'd run into the VC platoon he'd ordered to the second downed UH-1. More than likely, they were out gunned, cut off and moments away from running out of ammo.

But Colonel Hung was not one for leaving things to chance. The Americans, for all their foulness and Imperialist intentions, were formidable warriors. Not like the French, who were impotent fools, no. Americans earned Hung's respect and hatred in equal measure.

"Company," Colonel Hung yelled out over the commotion of the recent grenade detonation. "Send the wounded back to the village, they are heroes. Treat them as such. Bury the dead. In half an hour, we'll find those responsible."

No cheer met the Colonel's words. He didn't like that kind of drama, and his men knew it.

Hero Company leapt into action.

###

The peasant soldiers of the VC platoon fought and died, as they often did, in the face of the Americans' superior tactics, training and fire power. Their left flank had been obliterated, and the centre was buckling. The right was not fairing any better. No matter how brave the Viet Cong may have been, they were still men, and they did not take to sticking their heads up into the path of streaming lead.

They fought sporadically, firing over their cover, or throwing grenades blindly - hoping to score a lucky hit.

The Americans' intentions were completely hidden from them. They believed themselves safe, so long as they could hold their ground long enough for another cell or allied formation in the area to come to their aid. Considering there wasn't one - save for Hero Company - for a a mile or so, this was unlikely.

Jungle Fever: A Vietnam War Survival RP

Righty'o, bit of an RP update.

Roadrash has kindly agreed to CO-GM this with me, to ensure the RP doesn't run into a wall whilst I'm not around.

He'll have the following powers:

• To accept or reject new characters.
• To suspend players who fall foul of the RP's rules or spirit. I'll have the final decision on their fate, however.
• To instruct players to ignore posts, if they've been flagged as dodgy or game breaking.

Generally speaking, his role will be to keep things going in case anything breaks. Obviously, I'm only around for 4-5 hours a day, and am asleep whilst most of you critters are awake, so it helps to have someone here who has the authority to maintain the RP's stability.

Suspended players' posts will be ignored, and their participation halted, until I've had a chance to look into the matter and decide on an outcome.

Optionally, should Roadrash want to get a new character into the fray pronto, he's more than welcome to do this on my behalf. He seems a good judge of things, and I doubt I'll have a problem with anyone he chooses to admit to the RP on his own accord.

Annnnnnnnnd that's about it. Obviously, I'll still be doing all the hardcore Game Master stuff, alongside my usual duties. Just helps having someone minding the fence when I'm not about.

The Elder Scrolls: The Collector Chronicles

I have a quick question about the citys, are they going to be properly populated by many people or only 20 or so like the game?

@Charter

Nottttttttt sure at this very moment. We'll probably keep it game-like, but I'll decide when we get there,

No Hope

Sophia and Miguel are now dead.

Everyone is in the ground floor of the carpark.

Zombies are pouring in on all sides.

Pro-tip: If only someone could call for an EVAC. Top floor of a carpark would make for one hell of a helipad.

No Hope

Captain Ishida was a long way from home, stranded in an alien city, fighting a battle that humanity might not win.

"Contact left!" Sergeant Himura whispered, though her words went far in a night full of silence.

The 4 man JSDF squad were confronted by a wall of shambling, decaying flesh. Hundreds of the enemy were converging on them, but not purposefully. It seemed that even the dead had a hard time seeing at night.

"Let's move," Captain Ishida responded.

He led his men down a back alley, and they formed a defensive diamond around the one survivor they'd found since their retreat from Arlington. They'd shot their way out of the situation, downing scores of the dead, but now their ammo was running low - standing and fighting was now luxury.

The back alley opened onto another road, bordering a river - if you could call it that. Straight away, in the bleak darkness, they could see the sea of shamblers descending on... a crashed car? Flash lights flickered around the toppled vehicle, and hurried voices accompanied their movements. Seemed Captain Ishida had found some more survivors, who unfortunately were blissfully unaware of just how close the building sea of dead men was to reaching them.

He looked at Malik Thornton, the guy they'd happened upon as he fought the dead back from his motorbike. The thing had run out of gas, and Malik had been in the process of trying to syphon fuel for it from cars, when dead hands grasped from the darkness. If Captain Ishida had not been there, Malik would be one of them by now.

"Watch our backs, Malik" the captain said with broken English.

And then a bright light from the top of a multi-story carpark, just off to the squad's left, illuminated the crashed car briefly. Captain Ishida saw for a moment a handfull of survivors, who seemed to be gathering up their stuff to move. He also saw the true enormity of the horde. Four or five hundred stumbling, lifeless bodies had encircled the car, and were no more than teen feet away.

The light from the carpark flashed again, and this time the survivors realised their peril.

Guns went off in a thick spasm of panicked and uncoordinated fire. Ishida saw dozens of the dead drop, left and right, but others surged forwards - holding their arms up and groaning for the flesh they so justly deserved. It took the JSDF squad two seconds to decide a course of action.

As one they raised their weapons, and unleashed a devastating volley of lead towards the mass of shamblers. The dead fell like wheat to a scythe, and the JSDF - followed by Malik - ran forwards into the breach they had created. They engaged the enemy at a few feet of range, in a heroic bid to get to the survivors. The gun fire intensified as they fought their way through, and reached the toppled car.

The Captain looked around, saw the car park flash its light again, and made his decision.

"To the carpark. You follow," Ishida said.

The survivors complied.

Gun fire reached its cresendo as Captain Ishida tried to lead the survivors through the eye of the storm, dropping shamblers left and right, and draining their precious ammunition in doing so. He saw an Asian man with a green hat pulled down by the horde. Then he saw a little girl - perhaps just breaching her teens - caught by her hair, and dragged into a rifling mass of dead men. A man dressed in the kevlar of a S.W.A.T tried to intervene, screaming in rage in a vain bid to reach the girl. A woman, blazing with fury, tried to help - but it was futile.

Captain Ishida turned back, unleashed another salvo of lead, and managed to grab both the man and the woman by the arms as the rest of his squad covered him. With great difficulty, he forcefully persuaded them that the girl was dead and a lost cause.

They made it to the multi story carpark, clambering over a concrete wall to gain entrance. The dead were hot in pursuit, and they threw themselves at the wall, pouring over it like water.

"Up here!" yelled a thickly foreign voice.

The survivors, all in various states of disarray, looked up at the ramp to the next level. A great big SUV had been parked across its width, and an African man stood behind it, beckoning them.

"They'll find it hard getting over this. Come, come, quick!" he said, before turning and running up the ramp.

No Hope

Tic. Toc. Tic. Toc. Tic. Toc.

GM post will be up soon.

My ass is studying its existence off. Jesus. I have like a bajillion tests and assignments. Omg, just kill my character if you want. I won't be on till the end of the week.

@SgtEasy

Really? You haven't got twenty minutes to throw up a post? I don't buy it. I have a job, a house to manage, six pets to look after, a nagging girlfriend (jokes she's lovely) and about a zillion things I need to get sorted, like the crack in my car windscreen and the dodgy sounding washing machine.

I've also got three RPs to manage.

Annnnnnnnnnnd yet I thrive.

How? I dunno, I'm probably magic or some shit.

Jungle Fever: A Vietnam War Survival RP

Hello everyone, looks like we have a few problems that I need to deal with.

@Rare, I'm not mad, and I'm not going to boot you from the RP. What kind of GM would I be, if I didn't at least try to help those who appear to be struggling with the subject matter. We're all busy, we all have ideas, we all have our own skill levels and comfort zones - and that's fine, I'm strong in the belief that these issues can be over come. Not always, but I have had some successes.

So I can see that you've been on the guild for a while, and have contributed in many RPs over that time. So regardless of your writing skill, I'm going to go ahead and say you're an experienced player. This is good. So, no doubt in your time here, you've probably made a few posts that have upset the other players? This is not a bad thing either, because we all do it.

You probably also know, that if everyone and their dog is saying "NO THATS WRONG", then you probably need to go back and make their recommended changes. You might not agree with them, but an RP is a team effort, and if you're swimming against the rest of your writing buddies - then well, you're hindering progress. So you know, it's always wise to take on board what the others have to say, and indeed, implement changes where possible. Even if you don't agree with them. Of course, if you feel strongly over your point of view, then I would not look down on you for saying "Well screw you guys, ima going else where!", because at least you've left the RP, and are no longer hindering it.

Hindering RPs is bad, you see. They die if they suffer too much llama drama. You're an experienced player, probably quite well known to the community, so I reckon you don't want to be seen as a problematic user, do you? Hell no! No one does! So I'd like to think this is just one big misunderstanding. I'd like very much to see if we can repair the situation, amicably.

So, there's my rousing speech. Now let me see if I can help you out. Clear your post, and leave it there. Start a new post.

In this new post, I want you to do a few things:

• Focus on the present. I've said how your guy got there, going backwards will just risk conflict. Forget it, get it out of your mind. You're a medic, who has escaped the VC's clutches with the help of a comrade, and now you've linked up with some survivors from another crashed Huey. That's all you need to know. Take it from there, and develop your character with a forward-facing gaze.
• Think caution. You're a medic, in a hostile jungle environment. There's three thousand ways you can die. When your guy moves, I want to know why, I want to know if he's evaluated the risks, and I want to know if he's negating them. Running around in the jungle without a care of your surrounds will get you shot - or worse.
• Pay attention to Road's character. Ryan is in charge of the whole lot, and his orders are excellent jumping off points for your character. I.e, if Ryan gives Wyatt an order, then Wyatt can go follow it. It's easy! You can literally tunnel vision yourself around that order, reducing the need to increase needless fluff. Not that I'm saying you should do that, because you know, it's the lazy way out - but it'd still be a valid way of playing, in my book.

So, I want you to go and write me a new post. I want this post to focus on the present events, and I want the character to display a want to live.

I want this post to start with Wyatt's reaction to the current situation. I want this post to show how Wyatt intends to survive it - even if that just means crawling on his arms and elbows to the rear of the squad's position, where he'll be safe. Or, you know, he could draw his weapon and add to the slaughter.

And then I want you to PM it to me, so I can review it, and help you shape it up a bit more - if needs be.

However, if you're not prepared to do this, then I fully respect your right to leave the RP with no hard feelings.

If you'd like to talk more about it, then please PM me. This has probably been embarrassing enough for you, and I don't want to make matters worse by broadcasting our subsequent discussions.

But on that note, don't feel bad about any of this. I doubt you're dicking me around on purpose, and I have plenty of time for my players who are struggling but genuinely need help - it's nothing to be ashamed of. You're not the first, and you wont be the last, to misunderstand one of my RPs.

As for everyone else, ignore Rare's post please.

No Hope

I definitely still am :)

@Darkraven

Awesome.

Its midnight for me, and I'm turning in. I'll get it all moving tomorrow.

Get ready for some action packed craziness!