Desperate Times

M

MohawkMan

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Desperate Times
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Here are a few simple rules I'd like everybody to keep to :)

- If you'd like to join this RP (and please feel free to, however far along we are!), please make a post in the OOC thread, describing your character and the kind of role you'd like to play in the story. You can find the OOC here

- Please keep all OOC statements in the OOC thread, whether they're to do with possible plot directions or simple messages to other RPers.
On a related note; if you have ideas regarding major plot decisions, please post it/them in the OOC so that others can have their say.

- Please include a character sheet in your first IC post, preferably wrapped in [ spoiler ] tags, outlining basics about your character such as race, gender, personality, preferred fighting styles, or anything you feel is important to know.

- No God-Modding

- Just make your posts: as long or short as you feel you need to, to portray what you're trying to; don't worry about your post being too short or too long.
As long as it's long enough that your contribution has been portrayed and it's short enough that it's all relevant, it'll be fine :)


- With regards to magic, I don't want to restrict people too much, but I'd like it to be a little more complex than just "I'm shooting a fireball out of nowhere" kind of stuff - I'd like it to be more of an art, which takes precision and discipline.
See this post for a vague idea of what I mean, though don't feel as if that is the only way you can use magic - just try to steer away from making it too "easy".

- HAVE FUN!
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It's the year 2676 in the 5th Age of Skyfall and the land has been in relative peace since the fall of the great Necromancer, Nôdd-uun, and the end of the 4th Age. Once the damage wrought by Nôdd-uun's pestilence had been repaired, the alliance which had been forged to fight against him quickly disintegrated, with mutual distrusts between the different races returning and old quarrels rekindling, leading the realms back into almost complete isolation from one another.

Now, more than 2 millennia later, a new evil is surfacing which will prove to be the greatest threat Skyfall has ever faced and her peoples must put aside their grievances and stand united once more, or face annihilation. Each race's commitment must be absolute; every resource must be utilised if they're to stand a chance of survival and no possibility can be overlooked.
Desperate times call for desperate measures...


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Name: Vinthus
Gender: Male
Age: 2817
Species: Undead (Human)
Family: Unknown
Personality:
Growing ever more detached from the living with every meaningless year of existence, Vinthus shows complete apathy towards all of his surroundings and any who enter his realm.
History:
Chosen against his will by the legendary Necromancer Nôdd-uun to become his famulus and learn his art, Vinthus was once a promising young blacksmith but memories of his past life have all but left him now. Initially reluctant to do his bidding, the longer he served Nôdd-uun and the more he learned of necromancy and it's subtleties, the less resistant he became to his master's will and he eventually came to enjoy his assignments, at least to the extent he was capable of enjoying anything.
A century after Vinthus' rebirth, Nôdd-uun was defeated by chance during the final stage of what was to be his great victory over the living, leaving Vinthus without purpose.
Current Circumstance:
During the first few decades after his master's defeat Vinthus still relished toying with the living but having only lived to serve, the sudden lack of orders to follow began to take their toll and he became weary of his life, if it could be called such.
Now he simply wanders aimlessly, flitting in and out of complete estrangement from reality. During his periods of thought he occasionally wishes for some purpose, some goal to strive for but these thoughts are fleeting and he has surrendered himself to the reality that he is doomed to exist without purpose, so apathetic that he is incapable of even taking his own false life.

Vinthus had been walking for hours through The Dead Land, which was once the seat of Nôdd-uun's power in Skyfall. Vinthus had claimed the realm as his home after the defeat of his former master all those years ago. The passing of time went unnoticed by the necromancer, his body unchanged by the years he had lived. Had he really lived them? For all intents and purposes he had died almost 3 thousand years ago when Nôdd-uun claimed him to be his famulus, damning him to an undead existence.

Vinthus' mind wandered even more than his body did. Sometimes it would be completely blank as his feet took him aimlessly through his realm, other times it would be swimming with incantations, rituals and even new applications for magic which had never been dreamed of before. Occasionally, however, he would ponder over his existence. This he did now, wondering whether he would ever have any purpose, whether there was a reason things had turned out how they did. He came to the same conclusion he always did: he was simply a discarded play thing, a lost soul, an ancient relic whom nobody missed. He flexed his palm briefly, a subtle movement that would easily go unnoticed, and a weed which had fought its way into life in this forsaken plain withered away. He didn't do this for any particular reason, he felt no triumph nor shame from his actions, he simply did it.
 
Name: Rogdush Blackskull
Gender: Male
Age: 784
Species: Orc
Family: Parents deceased, no family of his own, looks at his clan as his family.
Personality: Mostly a friendly fellow, though tends to become very protective, and at times violent, if someone or something tries to harm his clan.
History: Rogdush grew up being though by his father that there is nothing more important to an orc than his clan. And he took this to heart, and has all his life been doing what he believed best for his clan. Becoming a priest, fighting whoever tried attacking their town, giving food and helping the needy and wounded. And now, a large army of demons are trying to take the realm, killing and burning anything in their path. But Rogdush is one who is not going to simply sit quietly and let them annihilate his clan.
Current circumstance: Trying to find a way to stop the legions of demons. Though, in particular, a old tale his grandfather had told him once, of a powerful necromancer, might be his only hope...
 
Name: Letitia Hartmann
Gender: Female
Age: 23
Species: Banshee
Family: Two non-Banshee sisters, and one dead brother. Her parents both died during a plague that swept through the area several years ago. She is the youngest
Personality: She tends to be slightly anti-social, most people regarding her with contempt at her heritage. However, if one treats her at least halfway-cordially, she is a very pleasant young woman.
History: Although born to a well-to-do family, Letitia and her kin never knew what it was to be nobility, as many people condemn her kind, some calling them even worse than the old legendary Necromancers. Eventually, after her parents died and her sisters moved on, Letitia was left to care for her injured brother. When she realized he was dying, due to her Banshee powers, she left him, not wanting to see his face as he died. The moment still gives her nightmares, even though several years have passed since that night. She would do anything to protect her people, and the lord of her town used this to his advantage. Deciding to rid the town of her, and knowing of the demon army swiftly approaching, he sent her to scour the lands for someone to save them.
Current circumstance: Searching for a hero-type person, one who could save the town she grew up in, even if they wish her to die, sent on the fool's mission she is. She had heard rumours from a crazy dying Fae, about a Necromancer. The Fae said him long dead, but Letitia doesn't believe him, and continues to scour the land.
 
Letitia had been wandering for several days, traveling through the various towns she saw, until she came upon an Orc clan's settlement. She hadn't realized that she had traveled so far, and was mildly surprised. Thinking it couldn't hurt to try, she strode up to the walls, acting more brave than she felt inside. Bravery was an obsessive thing with the Orcs, as her now-gone brother had told her while she was nursing him.

Gunnar had fancied himself an adventurer, often leaving the town to hunt and explore the woods surrounding their home. He'd come back with deer, elk, and the occasional bear, hunting them with only his bow and quiver of arrows. For that, not only did he and her older sisters survive, they lived, as their lineage required. And then, he'd had the accident. Gunnar had been hunting, as he did at least once a week, when he'd fallen into a ravine, a sheer drop of nearly fifty feet. Although his landing was soft, he had broken his legs and several ribs, yet had still dragged himself back to town. He'd died several weeks later, and no one but Letitia had gone to his burial.

Shaking away the memory of her older brother, Letitia approached the large wooden gates of the settlement, shouting to the guards, "I wish to speak with your leader. Can you take me to him?"
 
The sentries at the gate had seen the woman approaching, yet had decided to wait and see what she did. It was rare for them to get visitors of other races, and even rarer to get a visitor they had never seen before.
"Who asks? And what do you wish to see the Warlord for?" One of them shouted back at her. They knew the Warlord didn't want to be disturbed, unless it was important, especially seeing as he was preparing the town for the coming attacks.
 
Pretending to be unfazed by the sentry's question, Letitia replied, "I am Letitia of the Hartmann clan. I bring a request for anyone able to help Forjaalkin, towards the North. We haven't any sort of army, to fight against the demon legions approaching, and are beseeching the neighboring towns, to no avail. I was wondering if your leader would at least hear me out?"

She gave an unconvincing smile. She wasn't used to dealing with Orcs, as mostly humans lived so far this direction. However, she wasn't about to get turned away, not after traveling for so long. "Secondly," Letitia continued, "I am in need of restocking in supplies, and would inquire if either I could purchase goods here, or if someone will tell me where the nearest town is."
 
The sentry thought for a moment, studying her, then shouted back at her "Alright, we'll let you have a talk with the Lord. Don't try anything funny though, you won't like the consequences for that." He then leaned over to the other side of the wall and shouted something to someone down there.
Then the great gate swung open, with a guard standing there, awaiting her. He was dressed like many of the guards, with leather pants and some belts. "Come with me, Hartmann." he almost commanded, before leading her towards the Great Hall, more a fortress than anything, in the middle of the lively city.
 
When Vinthus came around from his blankness once again, he stood before the gateway of Ogre's Skull, at the eastern border of The Dead Lands. It was once the focal point of a great battle between Nôdd-uun's hordes and the Orcs of Skyfall, in the early days of his plans. They had put up such a fierce resistance to his invasion that he turned Ogre's Skull from a temporary outpost into a fully defensible stronghold made of bone, to keep the Orcs at bay whilst he found a more practical way into the lands of the living.

Vinthus made his way to the top of a battlement and looked out at the lands beyond his borders, through an embrasure. He realised that he had been aware of his surroundings and thoughts uncommonly frequently, of late. Usually he would spends weeks, even months at a time in a sea of tranquillity within his mind as his physical form went about its business but recently he had been in mindful control of his actions at least once a day, for increasing lengths of time. He placed a hand on an Orcish skull which had been embedded in the merlon to his right and considered this revelation. Does my subconscious see a reason that I should be in control once again? But that could only mean... No. That's impossible. He dismissed his thoughts, removed his hand from the cold, smooth surface of the bone and began his descent back to ground level.
 
Letitia smiled at the sentry's words, glad that she had gotten her way so easily. However, inside, she was preparing what she was going to say, memorizing it so she didn't stumble over her own words. She shouted up to the guard, "I assure you, I won't try anything." As the great gates swung open, she wiped the smile from her face, figuring it wasn't a very pristine time for one. Closely following the guard, her simple outfit consisted of a flowy white shirt, stained almost gray, and dark fighting pants. She didn't want to get lost in the bustling city, and followed him step for step, so that there was no possibility of doing so.
 
The guard led the woman to the great fortress of a hall, and led her inside. He was stopped outside the main hall though, and he explained himself to the guards there. It did not take long before the guards opened the doors to the hall and let them in. Behind the doors, a hall, greater than any of the halls in the realm, laid, almost empty. Across the room from the door was a heightened section with a great throne, with a great many skulls embedded in it. And on it, sat a large man, even for orcs, in black armor with a gold trim. At his sides were other orcs, some in armor others with wolf pelts worn as a cape.
"Show respect to Warlord Gorzung, pinkskin. Or you may end up decorating the halls." The guards said, as he stopped and nudged the woman on.
 
When the guard leading her was stopped to explain himself, Letitia grew slightly anxious, worried that she would be turned away. When the two were let in, she smiled softly. At the guard's urging, she stepped forwards until she was in front of the large man. Not entirely sure of Orc customs, she fell to one knee slowly, trying to prepare herself for the feeling of a sword in her back.

When the feeling and the pain didn't come, she waited until she was told to rise, knowing that this was a crucial moment in her mission.
 
The Warlord looked at the woman, slightly amused. "Well, a pinkskin has come all the way here by herself. Either being very brave, very stupid or very desperate." He said, then motioned with his hand, as he continued. "Stand, woman. And tell me why you have come here." He said, studying her. Some of the others whispered a bit with each other, but it was too low to be heard.
 
Immediately, Letitia nodded, standing up from her kneeling position, one of her legs having fallen asleep from kneeling for so long. Collecting her thoughts, she paused a moment before saying, "I am Letitia of the Hartmann clan, and I am here to request help for my town, Forjaalkin, to the north. As the demon legions swiftly approach, we find ourselves unable to protect our small town. I come with a plead of help for my people, if you would be generous enough to hear more of my people's situation. I have been given a rather large sum of money, should you need compensation for your help." She swallowed her fear that he would take it the wrong way, but it still remained in her eyes, and a little in her voice. "Please," she said, "the people of Forjaalkin will surely perish if we do not find help soon."
 
The Warlord looked at her and though for a minute. Then he started talking. "So, you want me to send some of my warriors to defend your small town, against the demon legions, and thereby leave our own city less defended? You want me to send away some of my warriors, while legions that possibly are large enough to take my own home are roaming?" He waited a moment, before speaking again.
"No. I will not send any warriors to your village. Though I am not heartless. I will not simply let the citizens die. Your people are free to seek refuge here, in our city. They may lose their homes, yet they may keep their lives. That way I will not have to split my forces, yet your people will be safe." He leaned back into his throne as he finished, watching her.
 
Letitia bowed at the waist before saying, "My thanks go out to you, sir. I am overjoyed at your generous offer, however, I must bid you farewell," she was trying to hold back a smile, her happiness at finally gaining some form of help for her people making her feel ecstatic. She didn't mention, however, that many of her people were not able or would have a difficult time moving, as the recent plague that swept through the town had crippled many. In other words, that plague was the exact reason half of their small army was incapable of protecting, and the other half had deserted, leaving with several townspeople in search of a safer stronghold. They had promised to send letters, but none ever came.

Once again, Letitia bowed, before turning around and beginning to make her leave.
 
As she left, one of the Orcs standing beside the Lord started walking out as well. He was one of them that wore a wolf-cape. He seemed a bit old, yet he also carried a rather large claymore on his back. He was hairless, and wore simple pants and shirt. He followed the woman a bit after they left the great hall.
 
Walking through the streets, trying to remember exactly how she had gotten there, she took notice of the Orc following her. When she reached a quieter section of the town, she stopped, turning around and asking, "Any particular reason you are following me, or do you just like human women?" her voice was confident, but it was false. In truth, she was slightly wary of him, not sure what he was planning, if anything.
 
The orc grinned slightly at the woman, before answering. "Well, since you came to us, rather than seeking aid from your fellow humans, I figured you were either very brave, or you had few other options. So I though that you might be as interested as me in stopping the legions of demons. You see, I'm not sure if our forces can withstand the demons. But I do know that we will lose a lot of good men in the war against them. And I do not wish for most of our men to die. So I've been trying to find alternate ways of stopping the mindless legions." He paused slightly. "And so far, the best way I've found of stopping them, is with mindless legions of our own. And I wondered if you would have any interest in helping me with this?"
 
At his comment about his not being sure if his people could withstand the demons, Letitia stifled a sarcastic and witty comment, that would probably get her killed. She couldn't help it, but successfully kept it down. She nodded as he finished, seeing the logic in his words. At his question, she replied, "I do, and I see how one would come to this conclusion. So, yes, I do have 'interest in helping' you." She offered a weak smile, trying to tell him that she was friendly.
 
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