- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Prestige
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Genres
- Fantasy, SciFi, Modern, Magical
Alrighty! I'm looking at running a LotR RP set in an alternate scenario: that the Ents found the One Ring. While not a setup original to me, I want to take the premise and run with it. This post is purely an interest check: there's a fair amount of info that needs to be compiled, settings need to be elaborated on, etc. So if you are interested, please understand that this will not happen in the near future: I wouldn't expect anything before the turn of the year, if even that early.
This will be a newcomer friendly RP: if you're interested but have no knowledge of Middle Earth, I will be providing brief summaries of anything you'd need to know. And of course, if I forget to address something, you'd be very welcome to ask.
Expectations:
1. I'm looking for no more than ten players.
2. This will be a slow burn, as I tend to stay busy with IRL and figure y'all do as well: posting speed will be (usually) once every two weeks. If this deviates, we'll readdress it later. I'm flexible.
3. I'm looking for a minimum of two paragraphs per post, displaying a good understanding of English grammar, sentence structure, etc. I'm not asking for professional writer quality, but if a reader has to go over a section more than twice, it probably needs reworking.
That's it for now. Let me know! I look forward to getting this (eventually) off the ground.
The following is a teaser.
This will be a newcomer friendly RP: if you're interested but have no knowledge of Middle Earth, I will be providing brief summaries of anything you'd need to know. And of course, if I forget to address something, you'd be very welcome to ask.
Expectations:
1. I'm looking for no more than ten players.
2. This will be a slow burn, as I tend to stay busy with IRL and figure y'all do as well: posting speed will be (usually) once every two weeks. If this deviates, we'll readdress it later. I'm flexible.
3. I'm looking for a minimum of two paragraphs per post, displaying a good understanding of English grammar, sentence structure, etc. I'm not asking for professional writer quality, but if a reader has to go over a section more than twice, it probably needs reworking.
That's it for now. Let me know! I look forward to getting this (eventually) off the ground.
The following is a teaser.
The creature leaped, blade raised high to bury it in his opponent's chest. Celegóst sidestepped, lip raised in a snarl, driving his sword into the orc's chest up to the hilt. He cast the body aside, giving little attention to the black blood that had spattered across his elvish armor. Not that it was cleaned or well maintained; several centuries of neglect had not done it favors.
And what were orcs doing this far west of the Misty Mountains anyway? It was unnatural, and the elf knew it better than most. He stared impassively at the last stooping figure, eyeing the curved blade in its hand as he waited to see what it'd do. It didn't jump at him like the others; in fact, it lowered its sword.
"Roots spread like fire, elfling." Its eyes narrowed, and it spat. "And bark makes no distinction between flesh."
"It- what?"
It caught Celegóst off guard, that the orc should act so strangely. And that it should give such vague warning. It certainly didn't seem like a threat. Orcs had little to do with trees, save to chop them down.
"The branches will entwine, and limbs of wood will crush limbs of bone." Sneering, it sheathed its scimitar and turned. "We're all plant food, in the end, little elfling. Be sure to get nice and fat for the trees."
The point of Celegóst's blade rested in the dirt, incredulity plastered on his face. What was the orc talking about? Shaking his head and feeling unwilling to pursue the last enemy, he sheathed his own sword before continuing on his path toward Rivendell.
"The…trees found it?"
Aragorn nodded solemnly, somehow maintaining the professional bearing expected of him, despite the rather strange and upsetting news. The Ring of Power, the thing that had brought such sorrow and destruction to Middle Earth in the hands of Sauron, was now in the possession of the Forest of Fangorn, or more precisely, the guardians of the forest, the Ents. Celegóst blinked in unmitigated surprise, glancing at Elrond as he did. The Lord of Rivendell, the small but resolute elven dwelling they'd taken council in, remained stoic even as others allowed emotion to drive their words and their tone. Aragorn, too, somehow remained calm, apparently confident in the ability of those around them. A leader through and through, and more than worthy of taking his ancestral throne himself.
Celegóst did not share his confidence. His brow furrowed as he shook his head, unsure of how to even progress. In all the long ages he'd lived, watching as Elves, Dwarves, and Men tore into each other in endless battle, never had the elven vagabond expected to find the forests themselves as his enemies.
"Surely-" His voice faltered, considering. "Surely the… trees would not keep the One Ring for themselves. This is maybe the thing we can most be assured of: that no tree nor Entish guardian of theirs would seek to keep or use it?"
"They are angry. Angrier than I have seen them in many lifetimes. The desire for retribution lives in the heart of all things, even if only as a desire for cold justice. The forests have suffered at the hands of the Unrooted. And Saruman has not been kind to them." Gandalf's voice fell silent, the gruffness of his tone failing to hide sadness was evident in the wizard's face. It pained him quite clearly to say such things, yet how could he not speak the truth? "Had word come to me earlier that the very Ring of the Dark Lord Sauron had come into their possession, maybe we could have acted sooner. But Saruman's ambition to combat him on even terms has progressed things beyond tenability."
Celegóst sniffed, lips pursing in frustration.
"Then what is our course of action, if the time for talk has passed?"
"Perhaps it has not. Regardless, the Ring must be reclaimed," Elrond answered, his already somber tone dark with evident dread. "By any means. For though the trees are seek only their own well being in the face of destruction, I fear the Ring shall bring far worse indeed than mere retribution against their persecutors…"
Word has gone out from Rivendell to all corners of Middle Earth, drawing those of courage, cleverness, and capacity to its walls. A danger unlike any yet witnessed has arisen, and it must be met. For if the guardians of the forests take the One Ring for their own, all life will find itself at an end.
And what were orcs doing this far west of the Misty Mountains anyway? It was unnatural, and the elf knew it better than most. He stared impassively at the last stooping figure, eyeing the curved blade in its hand as he waited to see what it'd do. It didn't jump at him like the others; in fact, it lowered its sword.
"Roots spread like fire, elfling." Its eyes narrowed, and it spat. "And bark makes no distinction between flesh."
"It- what?"
It caught Celegóst off guard, that the orc should act so strangely. And that it should give such vague warning. It certainly didn't seem like a threat. Orcs had little to do with trees, save to chop them down.
"The branches will entwine, and limbs of wood will crush limbs of bone." Sneering, it sheathed its scimitar and turned. "We're all plant food, in the end, little elfling. Be sure to get nice and fat for the trees."
The point of Celegóst's blade rested in the dirt, incredulity plastered on his face. What was the orc talking about? Shaking his head and feeling unwilling to pursue the last enemy, he sheathed his own sword before continuing on his path toward Rivendell.
~~~~~~~
"The…trees found it?"
Aragorn nodded solemnly, somehow maintaining the professional bearing expected of him, despite the rather strange and upsetting news. The Ring of Power, the thing that had brought such sorrow and destruction to Middle Earth in the hands of Sauron, was now in the possession of the Forest of Fangorn, or more precisely, the guardians of the forest, the Ents. Celegóst blinked in unmitigated surprise, glancing at Elrond as he did. The Lord of Rivendell, the small but resolute elven dwelling they'd taken council in, remained stoic even as others allowed emotion to drive their words and their tone. Aragorn, too, somehow remained calm, apparently confident in the ability of those around them. A leader through and through, and more than worthy of taking his ancestral throne himself.
Celegóst did not share his confidence. His brow furrowed as he shook his head, unsure of how to even progress. In all the long ages he'd lived, watching as Elves, Dwarves, and Men tore into each other in endless battle, never had the elven vagabond expected to find the forests themselves as his enemies.
"Surely-" His voice faltered, considering. "Surely the… trees would not keep the One Ring for themselves. This is maybe the thing we can most be assured of: that no tree nor Entish guardian of theirs would seek to keep or use it?"
"They are angry. Angrier than I have seen them in many lifetimes. The desire for retribution lives in the heart of all things, even if only as a desire for cold justice. The forests have suffered at the hands of the Unrooted. And Saruman has not been kind to them." Gandalf's voice fell silent, the gruffness of his tone failing to hide sadness was evident in the wizard's face. It pained him quite clearly to say such things, yet how could he not speak the truth? "Had word come to me earlier that the very Ring of the Dark Lord Sauron had come into their possession, maybe we could have acted sooner. But Saruman's ambition to combat him on even terms has progressed things beyond tenability."
Celegóst sniffed, lips pursing in frustration.
"Then what is our course of action, if the time for talk has passed?"
"Perhaps it has not. Regardless, the Ring must be reclaimed," Elrond answered, his already somber tone dark with evident dread. "By any means. For though the trees are seek only their own well being in the face of destruction, I fear the Ring shall bring far worse indeed than mere retribution against their persecutors…"
~~~~~~~~
Word has gone out from Rivendell to all corners of Middle Earth, drawing those of courage, cleverness, and capacity to its walls. A danger unlike any yet witnessed has arisen, and it must be met. For if the guardians of the forests take the One Ring for their own, all life will find itself at an end.