Avatar of Vhagar
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    1. Vhagar 9 yrs ago

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@Vhagar@JbCool@The Survivor@JulienJaden you guys good with moving on or do you want a prompt?

I like to give players the illusion of choice so I thought I'd ask.


There's not really anything I can write for Enrik right now so I'm more than happy to be moved on.
Something about his background doesn't seem right and I can't quite put my finger on it... please, have a read, rip it to pieces, and let me know what needs changing.

Thanks, I'm feeling inspired at the moment so I'm going to crack on, but if I get stuck I'll jump on and rack your brains :)
@VhagarYou don't always need a completely unique bio for people, not everyone left on a snowy peak to die as a child and raised by wolves and trained in ancient magic by a Bloodmoon Shaman o' Gork. Mercenaries are often times just normal people or military vets who have enough skill/training to be a soldier but don't want to commit to a national army.


Very, very good point.
<Snipped quote by ClocktowerEchos>

We've all drank this poison called life...

@Vhagar @Mortarion @Frizan @LotusWarrior @Cat Sidhe You guys still around?


Indeed I am, just struggling with my character's bio. I've made so many ES characters that I struggle to come up with a particularly unique backstory anymore.
I'm a huge ES fan and would be interested in participating. I have a couple of minor questions to help me fill out a CC.

1) I'm debating which weapon to use and would appreciate GM judgement. I'm currently torn between a Naginata or double-ended Glaive. Could you please tell me which, if either, of these weapons would be deemed as acceptable for the RP?
2) I was somewhat confused by what sort of backgrounds you were looking for our characters to have. In places it seemed as though you wanted civilians (craftsmen, merchants etc.) and in other places it seemed as though you wanted characters with combat experience. I was planning my character as a Redguard Mercenary. Would that be deemed acceptable?
Soooo... What's happening?
I'm afraid I won't be able to post from Monday to Wednesday, as I will be in Paris foe three days. I should, however, be able to stay in fairly consistent PM contact with @JulienJadenand be able to make fairly short OOC posts.
Lyla seemed even more shaken than Enrik. She was fighting back tears, and it took quite some time for the girl to ready herself to speak. Enrik eagerly awaited her response. "We... need to find one of the masters. I left Mara, Eeth and a few younglings in one of the dorms." Enrik's gut tightened, like someone was clenching their fists around his intestines. As much as it pained him, he had seen how the clones had gone door to door and gunned down anyone inside. He wasn't ready to put his hopes on Eeth or Mara still being alive. "Let's check the quarters. We'll be fine. The clones aren't... invincible." She lifted the lightsaber. "It's mine. It's real. And they don't stand a chance against us." Enrik eyed it cautiously. He appreciated that she was attempting to be hopeful, but Enrik's journey had shown him the merciless brutality of these troopers - Initiate, Padawan, Master, it mattered not, all died the same when on the other end of a blaster barrel. Enrik nodded and did his best to plaster on a smile. "Come on."

The two prowled the Master's quarters for several minutes, going room to room in the hope that they would find someone, anyone, that wasn't in white and blue armor and holding a blaster. Several of them had walls littered with blast points, but the vast majority of the corpses were clone troopers. "There's nobody here," Enrik heard Lyla murmur from just ahead of him. And she was right. They had searched almost every room, and there wasn't a single sign that anyone had been here since the attack began. She began whispering, and then she began getting louder, and louder still. "Think, think, think... Where would they go? Where would the masters go, meet, regroup, fight back? Think, damn it!" Enrik watched as she practically tore her hair out, fear and frustration taking hold of her in equal measure. The answer seemed obvious to Enrik. The first place any of the Masters would go would be to the archives. Everything that it meant to be Jedi, their entire history, was recorded there. "The Archives." She looked up at him, staring into his eyes, realization washing over her. "Yes. The Archives. "Let's- wait." Enrik had turned to make off towards the Archives when Lyla halted. "No... No, I have... I have to go back. I left the others in that room and we don't have time to run back and forth. We'll go back, we get them and then go to the Archives." Enrik could feel the fist in his stomach tighten its hold, except now it seemed to have grown talons. It was folly, when they both knew what they would find. "We're all going to be fine." And with that she was off, leaving Enrik to follow as best he could.

The short run was surprisingly easy. The only real problem they encountered was a roving LAAT that flew by a large window, but the pair were easily out of sight. Enrik watched in disgust as their 'protectors' stood along the sides of the transport, checking their weapons and chatting among themselves. They turned a corner, and Lyla stopped dead in her tracks. The head and shoulder of a clone set next to his torso, and a pile of blasters lay half melted in the corridor. There was a puddle of vomit, which Enrik was extra careful to avoid. "They're gone," she whispered. Enrik had no idea who 'they' were. Her friends? Maybe more clones. Either way, it was bad. Enrik followed along as Lyla led him to her dorm, and when they finally rounded the corner, all hope flooded from Enrik in a heartbeat. The door was wide open.

Lyla stepped inside the room. Her lightsaber fell from her limp hand, and the poor girl collapsed to her knees. The room was almost an identical picture to his own; a pile of children's corpses, blasted to pieces by those who claimed to be guarding them. Enrik felt rage swell inside him, before quickly suppressing it. Her lightsaber rolled to Enrik's feet, and he collected it from the floor, before walking up just behind Lyla. He recognised the students. He had trained with them before, taken his meals with them, squabbled with them and laughed with them. And now here they were, lifeless on the ground, while Enrik stood above them alive. He couldn't help but feel guilty. Lyla was sobbing now. She hugged and shook her dead friends, clinging desperately to the hope that they would draw breath and hug her back, but she was to get no such reaction. Enrik rested his hand on her shoulder. "Lyla. We have to go. You can mourn them when we get out of here, but you won't get the chance if you stay and die with them." For some reason he didn't think she'd heard him. "Lyla. Come on." She leant over to Mara's corpse and slid a small silver ring from her pale, dead finger, and slit it onto her own thumb. She proceeded to rummage through the other initiates' pockets, before finally hauling herself to her feet. She turned to face him. The blood of her friends stained her tan robes, and the trails of tears stained her face. Silently she took the lightsaber from Enrik's outstretched hand. "The Archives," she said with a feeling of grim finality to her voice. Enrik felt like she had given up on living.

The pair left, this time going a different way towards the archives. Enrik was desperate to avoid the main hall; that was where most of the killing would have been conducted. The surrounding corridors seemed quiet, but in the distance the sounds of the massacre were as petrifying as ever. The two made good time, and as time went on, the screams and shooting got louder and louder. The closer to the archives they got, the more frequent the corpses became. Most were Padawans, some were Knights. But Enrik was yet to see the corpse of a master. Before too long, however, the sound of boots on the corridor floor became audible. They were around the next corner, Enrik knew. Layla, however, seemed totally oblivious, stuck in a trance-like state since seeing her dorm. He looked at Lyla. Before he had a chance to warn her, she was already around the corner. "Lyla!" He whispered as loudly as he dared. Lyla turned to look at him as she rounded the corner, and as she did, a rifle butt hit with a sickening crack against her temple. "Did Lord Vader ask for prisoners?" The clone was asking another, one that Enrik had not known was there. "No. He wants all of them dead." A second clone. He had to act, or Lyla would end up the same as her friends. He couldn't let it happen. He wouldn't.

Enrik stretched out a hand, searching for a hold. He found it, and with all his might, he brought the lightsaber to his hand. The clone noticed it fly, but by the time he turned to see where it had gone, the blue blade had ignited in Enrik's hand. He had only ever wielded a training saber before today. Now not only would he wield a lightsaber, he would kill his first man. His swing was elegant, the tip of the blade eating about half way back into the clone's torso and opening his ribs wide. With a grunt, he fell to his knees, and then on to his face. Enrik turned the corner, where two more clones were stood. One had his blaster raised, and the other was running in his direction, bearing down quickly. Enrik calmed himself. A combination of adrenaline and the Force made time seem slow. Enrik brought up the lightsaber and angled it towards the advancing clone's stomach, before lunging forward and driving it hard. It easily penetrated the armor, and the flesh, and then the armor again. Enrik hid behind the corpse as the final clone loosed a few blasts. One missed entirely and the other two struck the back of Enrik's human shield. He withdrew his saber, letting the body slump to the floor, and ran towards the clone. He deflected a bolt, before stretching out a hand. He grasped the clone's ankle, and yanked, sending the clone down onto his back with a thud. Enrik loomed over him as he tried to regain his senses, and with one swift swing, sent his head rolling along the corridor. It was over.

The blue disappeared as the blade rescinded back into the handle. He hadn't noticed the icy bite of the cold steel until now. He stood over the decapitated clone, breathing heavily as the adrenaline subsided, before remembering. Lyla. The boy pivoted and ran, back to his fallen friend. She was unconscious. The rifle had struck her on her left temple, and the swelling was immense. Blood was steadily trickling from the site of the impact. Enrik was surprised that her skull hadn't caved in. The blood had begun to form an oozing red pol around her head. "Lyla?" Enrik shook her gently by the shoulder. "Lyla? Can you hear me?" Still nothing. "Lyla, wake up... please. Wake up." Her eyes fluttered open at last. "Lyla?" She looked at him. Enrik smiled. "Can you get up?" She nodded. All of the colour had drained from her face. She attempted to stand, but stumbled. Enrik caught her, and threw her arm around his shoulder. "Come on, lean on me. Let's get to the Archives." He held out her lightsaber, and she clipped it back to her belt. Enrik wasn't sure she knew where she was or what day it was. If she noticed the corpses, she made no mention of it. Together, the two hobbled down the corridor, towards the Archives.
I'm not quite sure how I feel about that for a first post to be perfectly honest. I like some of it, but parts of it just seem really meh :/
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