Tempest

Floofmami
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
SLAGS!
"Worthless sacks o' slime, the lot of ya. An' lookit me, jus' some ninny-sitter for ya snivellin' excuses for conscripts! Was one o' the Sov'reign's Generals, and now, I'm nuddin' but the Slag Sargeant.

Wot? Ya don't know me? Tcha! Wot do y'know, ya lot o' dunder-heade--HRMF-- Lookit here, Slags... I was Sov'reign's right-hand before they were the Sov'reign. Ohoho. Thems were the good ol' days. Smashin' for the sake of smashin'. Runnin' rampant through the streets til them Heroes o' Light would come whoopin' and hollerin' them fancy speeches at us. Yeahr, then we'd get away, cursin' thems mothers... But now, ha, Sov'reign melted their Chosen's face. How was he t' know that lunativ would jus' grin an' take it, eh?

That was a good 3 years ago or some such, I'm not the biggest for numbers an' figures. I'm all 'bout the smashin' and bashin'. Might be why ol' Sovvy decided he didn't have much use for his ol' pal, Xarg. Tcha. Got them other generals, workin' to subjugate them 'unruly' masses, an' to toe-the-line.

Don't get why... Bash a few skulls, people straighten up right fast, RRHAHA! Nah, they're all 'bout that 'subtle' nonsense. Ah, but here's ol' Xarg... In charge of you lot, an' doin' wot... Busy-work so you lot don't ruin nuddin' else.

I dun't really care. I just gotta make sure ya don't screw up too much an' I get all the grog I could ever want... So, hop to it! Ya dun't know wot to do? Read yerr blasted papers-- If'n ya can't read, find someone else wot can. It'll tell you everythin' ya rotten lot need to know to get the blazes out of my hair. If'n ya've got questions, find someone wot cares! SCAT!"



Welcome to the Dark Army, soldier. We thank you for your service. Though we know you had many choices of excrutiating end, you stuck it out and chose SOVEREIGN. You have been officially assigned to Reserves Squadron 'S,' codename Slags. While waiting to for your check-up, please fill out this form in order to complete our records and better help you in the future.

[As you turn the page, you see your name printed out, your race and your official record... There seems to be a self-assessment form. You get the feeling that the screening check-up isn't very thorough... Looking at the physicians, they seem to be passing people through with little regard, just checking that they match their picture identification in the portfolio... Quickly you fill out your form.]

Information Sheet
Name: Self-explanatory
Race: Generic fantasy races are pretty self-explantory, original races or lesser known, please provide a descriptor
Appearance: What do you look like? Text, picture or a combination of both.
Quirks: What are a few prominant mental, physical, social, emotional or other oddities?
Strengths: What do you think are a few of your strong areas? (at least 3, keep roughly even with weaknesses)
Weaknesses: What do you think are a few of your weak areas? (at least 3, keep roughly even with strengths)
General History: Where do you come from? How'd you get here. Doesn't have to be a novel.
Probationary Causation: Why does the Dark Army have reason to doubt you being an asset?
Other: Anything we forget that might be noteworthy?

Easy-Copy Form: [spoili]
Code:
[b]Name[/b]:
[b]Race[/b]:
[b]Appearance[/b]:
[b]Quirks[/b]:
[b]Strengths[/b]:
[b]Weaknesses[/b]:
[b]General History[/b]:
[b]Probationary Causation[/b]:
[b]Other[/b]:
[/spoili]


[As you finish scratching on the clipboard, a gruff looking orc in a skirt and blouse comes over and starts poking and prodding over you. You realize partway through their exam that their fingers really aren't that clean as they pry open your mouth and start counting. They shout back in their gutteral language to someone else... You catch in the return that someone else has 'dibs' on a few of your teeth if you don't make it. The physical passes by, taking your clipboard out of your hands, holding it up by your face before quickly tapping a slender stick against it three-times. A gold-filigree stamp appears at the corner, certifying your new position before it is shoved back into your chest and you are redirected along to the warrant officer to recieve your assignment... The officer doesn't look up from their expansive table filled with piles of paperwork as you approach. You're asked your name and squadron... Upon answering, they deftly pick through a pile and hand you a scroll. You realize you're dismissed as your presence is now ignored. Opening it up, you realize this is the details of your assignment:]

Mission
'S' Squad is hereby tasked with the peace-keeping of patroling and peace-keeping of of designated secure zone ZED, a.k.a. the Fort Whimsy and surrounding province, including establishments: Meadowcairn, Beaumonte, Glimmergrove, and Goodland. Standing orders are to promote integration with the Empire, oversee commerce and report any signs of insurrection. Repeat, you are to report and NOT engage with any rebel presence.

Present this note to the local quartermaster, they will assure you are well equipped for your work ahead.


[As you look up, you see this supposed quartermaster. You could swear he just handed someone a barrel lid as a shield. You have some of your own belongings, but you know you could probably use a few things. You just won't be getting anything fancy from them...

After you settle with the quartermaster, you're shuffled along and signed onto a caravan heading to the secure zone and set for your meet up with your new squad-mates at Fort Whimsy... The captain assigned to shuttling you begins to drone on about what he expects in his caravan.]

Rules
  1. Follow Iwaku's Site Policies and we’ll all be just peachy.
  2. Reiterating Iwaku's Site Mechanics Policy: The GM's word is law. I have the final decision in all things of the RP from executing something in the IC to kicking a player from the RP.
  3. Follow basic RP etiquette, that is to say, do not: use meta-knowledge, godmode, puppet others' characters, auto-hit, hog the spotlight, etc.
  4. Don’t be an arse. Don’t carry qualms about the RP out and about. Just don’t. If you have a problem with someone or something, please discuss it calmly and work out problems in a constructive way.
  5. Try to be legible in your posts, it is the best way we can assure understanding of what you mean.
  6. Try and keep up with the RP. I hope that everyone can post as least once a week, but I understand if that can become a problem.
  7. That said, if you are going to be gone for an extended time from the RP, CONTACT ME. It will help the RP continue along and allow you and I to work out what to do with your character during the absence.
  8. COMMUNICATE! This is a group activity. Your characters should interact! You should talk to me, I would enjoy hearing ideas from my players--This is a very loose roleplay where you have a chance to shape things with your own ideas, places, characters and events.
  9. Failure to comply with the rules can result in consequences up to and including being kicked from the RP or reported to staff.


SLAGS ROSTER

Active Duty:
U/A

Deceased:
None.

AWOL:
None.
 
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K

Kae'os Daemon

Guest
Name: Darrius "Psykolon Night" Aren
Birth Name: Daestre Mani'kae, of the Shaedaarii shard clan of the Makai.
Race: Makai Demon/Human Hybrid*
Appearance:
A tall, stout figure with a stature just shy of eight feet tall, and weighing in at an average of 400lbs. Psyko, as he commonly introduces himself, is rather fair-skinned, considering his heritage. Though he outwardly appears human, sprouting a full head of unkempt sable hair that reaches the middle of his back, as well as other dominating features. His heritage shows through none-the-less. Most note-worthy, is the blood-red fire that burns in his eyes and the unnatural bulk of his body, accompanied by the strange markings running the length and breadth of his form, amidst an uncanny amount of scars.
Quirks:
-Despite his outward appearance, he remains seemingly calm, possibly even intelligent when not confronted with the challenge of combat.
-Though it is unwieldy, even for one of his strength, Darrius commonly carries a massive blade into combat, considering it both a challenge and a restraint that only furthers his abilities.
-Though his oath does not bar him from wearing clothes or enchanted items, Darrius can usually be seen wearing nothing but a pair of black cotton pants and a sash of similar material to hold them up, stained with blood and torn from battle.

Strengths:
-Strength(Literally)
-He possesses an uncanny level of regeneration; a trait among all Makai, though dampened by his human heritage.
-Though it can be a weakness at times, the fury and rage that his blood grants him can make him deadly, even too his allies. Further, pain only drives him, increasing his fury and building upon his strength and bloodlust.
-Every Makai, hybrid or pure-blooded, has control of fire, able to manipulate and create it. It is said that those who become strong enough can even tap into the old magics of the Blood Phoenixes. The ancient ancestors to the Makai people.

Weaknesses:
-Though it may be of little surprise, Darrius lacks a certain level of self-control, both emotionally and physically.
-Bound to oath, he may not don armor. A Makai must prove stronger in flesh and blood, than to hide behind meager metals and leather.
-Following the old ways of the Makai, Darrius fights with the intention of getting hit, never blocking and rarely dodging. This in turn can lead him to take serious damage.
-Due to his demonic heritage, he is weaker to his opposing element; ice. Though he can stave off most of such effects with his own, it drains him far quicker.

General History: Born to a Makai father, his mother having been executed by way of combat just after his birth, he was raised to fight, to endure pain; training since the day he could lift a blade to be a warrior. Each test was more lethal than the next, giving him new scars and redefining his suffering with every trial. Though he survived, he was considered unworthy of his blood. Seen as weak and small, even for a hybrid. Soon after he failed the Crucible of Blood, that which was considered the true test of a Makai warrior, he was exiled. Told to not return until he was stronger. And so he sought his battles, finding work where ever he could. A few years of work as a sell-sword passed before he heard tales spreading of a great force that now swept the lands known as the Dark Army. Seeking them out, he soon taking up arms under it's banner, finding even greater battles to fight.

Probationary Causation: Seeing how far he had come, even hearing of his deeds, his father came to him bearing a gift in the form of another trial; an Ancestral Makai Blade, forged from the remains of one of the Blood Phoenix. Without realizing the full extent of what the blade could do, he took into his next fight, only to realize his mistake after the blade returned to him his mind so he may look upon a field of devastation. Not only of his foes, but of his friends. Dozens lay in pieces as his feet, slaughtered by an unbridled fury. He was not ready. With disappointment in his eyes, his father ripped the blade from his grip and simply left without a word. He was not worthy. Afterwords, he was reassigned, the only reason he wasn't killed being the victory he had gained for the Dark Army, and his past deeds, now stricken from record for his crime.
Other:
 
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Justin

King of Chaos 👑✨
MYTHICAL MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. Speed of Light
  2. Multiple posts per day
  3. 1-3 posts per day
  4. One post per day
  5. 1-3 posts per week
  6. One post per week
  7. Slow As Molasses
Online Availability
I never know when I will get online, but I usually get on most days of the week and weekend. I am pretty active on here so you will see me around a lot.
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. Transgender
  4. Primarily Prefer Male
Genres
High School/College, Scifi, Modern, Magical, Horror, Romance, Yaoi, Yuri, Slice Of Life, R Rated xD, Modern Fantasy
❆FROSTY❆

❆NAME❆
Frostbite "Frosty" Chillyfreeze, The Banished Frost Prince Of Escalaria

❆RACE❆
Royal Winter Faerie

❆APPEARANCE❆
Frosty is the usual height of a full grown male Winter Faerie, standing at only 3'4" and weighing around 60 lbs. at the most. Other than those, Frosty is different in appearance to any other Winter Faerie, including the ones in his family tree. With curly snow white hair sitting atop his head, he has a protruding icicle like horn coming from the left side of his forehead. It started forming his first birth year and has stopped growing just a few birth years ago. No one knows how or where it came from; some believe it was a curse because of his evil attitude and how he doesn't follow the rules a Winter Faerie should. Either way, if his race doesn't make people wonder why he joined up with The Dark Army, than the way he appears will. Because of the way faeries bodies are naturally, it's difficult to tell if one is a male or a female and that is something that has pushed Frosty to the edge many times when people mistake him for a female. His choice of clothing doesn't help stop the mishaps however.

❆QUIRKS❆
1.
Frosty, if not obvious, has a protruding blue and white horn on the left side of his forehead that shines bright blue when he uses his magical powers.

2. When he feels threatened or gets upset, Frosty's entire body will turn red from anger and he'll look like a hot chili pepper with a snowy stem.

3. Has a very unique style of clothing and since he isn't a physical fighter, Frosty tends to wear dazzling outfits to entertain while he uses his magic to do all the dirty work.

4. Can become a bit of a psychopath when he's in battle. Has been known to become "The Mad Faerie" at times. It's best to not be on the receiving end of such insanity.

5. It's in a Winter Faerie's DNA to be charming; even Frosty has some charm about him.

❆STRENGTHS❆
❆Magical Affinity:
Frosty has a vast knowledge of magic and is proficient in different forms. His most known and used magic is of course, Winter/Ice spells and evocations.

❆Flight: He wouldn't be an excellent Faerie if he didn't know how to fly. Either with his blue and white wings or with magic.

❆Intelligence: A smart and cunning person that feels like he's always two steps ahead of everyone; even when he isn't.

❆Immune To The Cold: It's simply impossible for Frosty to get cold; the winter is his home and the cold never bothered him anyway.

❆Entertaining: He loves putting on a show and doesn't mind being the center of attention. He thrives on the imaginary stage he creates for himself.

❆WEAKNESSES❆
❆Physical Fighting:
Frosty has never held a sword in his life and he's a frail thing. If he didn't have his magic ... he'd be dead by now.

❆Fire Bad! Fire Deadly!: Every Winter Faerie has known since their first birth year that Fire doesn't go well with Ice and as such, they stay as far as possible away from such a deadly counter element to theirs. No Winter Faerie has ever used any form of Fire Magic and could never used it anyway.

❆Prideful Nature: It is very common for a Faerie of any kind to be arrogant or self-entitled, but The Banished Prince takes arrogance to an entirely new level and it will be his biggest downfall if he isn't careful.

❆Emotionally Childish: Everyone, of any race or kin hates losing at anything; but Frosty is legendary for his temper tantrums when things don't go his way. He might think he's mature and an adult, but truthfully ... he still acts like a newborn baby.

❆Untrustworthy: It's hard to tell if Frosty is a friend or foe; with that wicked charm of his and that quick wit, he knows how to play people right into his hands and has been known to backstab anyone that he doesn't see as an asset for a better life for himself.

❆GENERAL HISTORY❆
Born to the King and Queen of Escalaria, Prince Frostbite Chillyfreeze an only child, was destined to take the Crown and rule over a Winter Wonderland like region. If only he had the mindset and personality fit for such a destiny. While his parents had him taught by the best of the best scholars in Escalaria, Frosty never took to their teachings and always did his own thing. Which wasn't the usual way a Winter Faerie acted.

Frosty grew up to be a cruel Prince that treated other lesser Winter Faeries like the dirt beneath his feet. And they couldn't just go and tell The King and Queen about how horrible their only child was. The people of Escalaria had to grin and bear it all; until one day, Prince Frosty went too far with his antics.

One day, Frosty sought out a challenge and wanted to fight one of the commoners just out of boredom. When a commoner Winter Faerie fought a Royal Winter Faerie, it was suppose to be just for show and nothing more. But Frosty used his magic at full force and frozed the poor commoner's body completely and then shattered the young boy with a smirk on his face the entire time.

There was no way his Father, The King, could let such an act go without punishment. Frosty was truly cold hearted, even colder than the winter land Escalaria. His father knew that there was only one thing that could keep his people from revolting; he would have to banish his only son from the Kingdom. The only punishment that fit such a crime, that also kept his son from being beheaded or stripped of his titles and magic.

Being thrown from the Kingdom only made Frosty's already growing madness of the mind worst. Finding himself alone in the world unknown to him, Frosty made a name for himself as a The Banished Frost Prince who didn't hesitate using his magical powers to get his way.

He eventually traveled further away from his former home and found The Dark Army shortly after and has been working his butt off to grow in the ranks. He secretly wants to take over and become the new Sovereign. One day he will ... or he thinks.

❆PROBATIONARY CAUSATION❆
Not only is Frosty new to The Dark Army, he is also from a land that is known for goody goods and weaklings (or what The Dark Army considers weaklings). There are a lot of reasons why he shouldn't and wouldn't be trusted and he has been on Probation since he first stepped into the chaos that is The Dark Army. He still has to prove them all wrong who doubt him.

❆OTHER❆
Frosty has a very high pitch voice and when he's upset and yells, it gets even higher and it just makes people take him less serious than usually.
 

daird

Edgesquire
upload_2017-8-7_16-57-20.png

Name: Margarethe, The Walking Blasphemy

Race: Undead human

Appearance: Margarethe's skin is ash gray and in various stages of decay, most notably in her lower abdomen, where it's almost completely rotted away, exposing her guts to the air. Her hair is gray, and her eyes a milky white. She's about 5 feet tall, and due to a lot of missing flesh, only weighs 80 pounds.

Quirks: Puts her hand to her lips when she's thinking, has a tendency to just blurt out whatever's in her head.

Strengths: Fountain of mana- Margarethe's body pumps out mana like crazy, even in death, leading her to surmise she was a powerful witch when she was alive. Her specialty is- surprise, surprise- necromancy, but she's also adept in inflicting sickness and decay, as well as more basic things like telekinesis and potion-brewing.

Near-Indestructible: Physical injuries are nothing more than an inconvenience for her, even such things as impalement or missing limbs. The only way to kill her for good is to either destroy her brain or decapitate her. She also doesn't need to eat, sleep, or breathe.

The Soulless: Due to the fact that her soul is... wherever souls go, Margarethe is completely immune to spiritually-targeted attacks.

Weaknesses: Physically inept- Margarethe is slow, weak, and clumsy. Putting her into a situation where strength is needed is begging for disaster.

Naïve: Margarethe's amnesia and inexperience make her easy to manipulate. She does have a concept of things like lying, but her social skills are all but nonexistent.

Over-the-top: Margarethe has a tendency to leave subtlety at the door, meaning she often blows through most of her mana early in a fight

Bio: Margarethe can't remember any of her time when she was alive. The first memory she has is a voice, calling her back from the grave. She turned, confused and scared out of her mind, and ripped the throat out of the necromancer who raised her from the dead. Said necromancer was a mid-level member of the Dark Army, and Margarethe was only able to get the drop on him because zombies aren't supposed to have free will of their own. She wandered for a time, until finding a Dark Army recruiting board and signing up, hoping to find some clues to her past wherever she's posted.

Reason for probation: Well, aside from being new, Margarethe is a free-willed undead, something that shouldn't be possible according to the laws of magic. The higher-ups are naturally skeptical, and want to see what she is capable of.

Other:

It turns out that in life, Margarethe was a member of the Heroes of Light, slain in a magical duel with the necromancer who reanimated her. He did that to inflict one final indignity to her corpse, but it backfired. Obviously, neither she nor anyone else knows about this.
 

Drifter

Let's go to war
Invitation Status
  1. Look for groups
  2. Looking for partners
Posting Speed
  1. One post per week
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
  3. Prestige
  4. Douche
  5. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. Nonbinary
  4. Transgender
  5. Nonbinary
  6. No Preferences
Genres
Modern Fantasy, Sci-Fi, Low Fantasy, Historical, Horror
Lemme just reserve this space real quick.



  • "I've lied, stolen, and committed any number of ignominious deeds, but I'll never disgrace myself by begging."

    Name: Stockton Notleigh

    Race: Human

    Appearance: Standing at just 5'6", Stockton isn't tall among men, but he fits in just fine amidst a crowd of women. At least, that's what he tells himself.

    His honey-blonde hair forms natural waves and he ties it back in a simple ponytail at all times. He has small, green eyes that usually dart about, evincing a curiosity he keeps just below the surface. His shoulders are slim, he has a bit of a gut, and most notably, he's got a nobleman's posture: an almost impossibly straight back that gives the impression of a stick perpetually lodged up his ass.

    It's a facsimile of a life he's never lived, and a good one at that, but closer inspection proves it to be a load of crock. Stockton's missing two fingers on his right hand, both digits terminating in grisly, uneven, scarred lumps near the knuckle. His ornate clothing shows artful, but visible, stitching and patches. Plus, there's the scowl that his face instinctively forms when he thinks nobody's watching.

    Quirks:

    • Stockton is a gambler. He believes strongly in luck. He can keep his hobby in check, preventing it from becoming a distraction, but it's an addiction nonetheless.
    • He has a real aversion to eye contact. Don't take it personally.

    Strengths:

    • He's a sharpshooter: good and silent with a bow and arrow despite the loss of his fingers. His grip has adjusted since the accident.
    • Stockton has been skulking around minor noble families and rich landowners, pulling cons for years. He's socially adept, unflappable under cover, and a genuine scoundrel of the highest degree.
    • He knows his way around almost every corner of Sovereign's domain, having been all over in search of his next big scame. He can serve as a living map for some truly unusual locales.
    • Two words: sticky fingers.

    Weaknesses:

    • Stockton is a coward. He's happy to stand back and loose arrows in the midst of a fight, but as soon as swords, fists, or teeth start flying, he's out of there.
    • Arrogance gets in the way of his making smart decisions. It's incredibly frequent that he'll overshoot, take a gamble, and end up in trouble. That's why, despite his thieving successes, he's really no richer than when he started out.
    • Physically weak. He's not a fighter, and he doesn't have much of a tolerance for pain. He does have some trouble handling complex tasks with his right hand. Muscle memory keeps archery and pickpocketing sharp, but other things have fallen through the cracks.
    • He completely lacks trust, but especially with women. He has a special disdain and disregard for any female that dares give him advice. To Stockton, women are to be cheated for money, thanks to a frank lack of intelligence. This deeply ingrained bias has gotten him in trouble in the past and surely will again, especially in team scenarios.


  • General History: Stockton was born Rolf Barclay, third of seven Barclay babies in a tiny house on the world's most pitiful patch of farmland. He had one older brother and his other five siblings were sisters. He would never inherit anything and never amount to anything.

    For the most part, his childhood was standard. His mother was sickly, sweet, and completely dominated by a well-meaning but perpetually frustrated cattle farmer, whose intentions slowly veered from "good" as the years went on. Beatings and beer-froth spitting tirades become a commonplace occurance, and Stockton's brother ran away when it got to be too much. That left the other children to hunker down and wait it out.

    While his mother withered away, his sisters rose to take her place. They tiptoed around their father, offering delicate, careful compliments only to spend their nights making feckless wishes for freedom. Enraged, Stockton would sneak into town to blow off steam, playing cards and buying drinks with ill-gotten coin from his father's bedside. He discovered a talent for the game and was soon able to prey on those who would take advantage of a young boy just to pay their own tabs. Far from rich, he was at least independent. He continued his swindling through his teenage years. One day, he robbed the wrong client and found himself at a knife's edge, staring down a group of vengeful slavers. He left that confrontation a few hefty coins richer, pointing down the road to five able-bodied young women to help recuperate their losses.

    From there, he changed everything he could about himself. He wanted a new life, one full of every luxury he could never afford. Stockton adopted a name he'd been mulling over in idle daydreams, spent all of his earnings on the portable trappings of aristocracy, and began his grand master plan. He showed up unannounced to large estates, posing as the prodigal son from a land just far enough away that the proprietors couldn't quite be sure of the validity of it all. When his guests suspected, he stole and ran. When he had them fooled, he indulged in debauchery like a farmboy could only dream. The nights he spent in transit between targets were full of on-the-spot tailoring and bow-hunting for food to tide him over.

    His last big job ended in catastrophic failure. Turns out, his targeted family was well-informed and had heard of some swindling in the area. He'd grown cocky and stayed in the same region under the same alias too long. The family welcomed him in, only to seat him at a long table with some of Sovereign's lowest lackeys. He paid them off, but only had the money to spare three of the fingers on his dominant hand. In pain, broke, and at a loss, he stumbled through countless towns until he witnessed a rampage at a local orphanage.

    A small, but unbelievably heavy, pink creature was terrorizing the children within, flopping in and out of the open window with a soul-rending screech. Worried he had lost it completely, from starvation, blood loss, or whatever, Stockton approached the creature, asked its name, and found a new traveling partner. Plus, a new lease on life. The creature took pity on him for his parasitic nature, and Stockton hatched a plan to get the both of them, leeches as they were, hitched to the greatest blood-source the world had to offer.

    Probationary Causation: Well, funny story. When you're pushing 30, you start to realize your boyish charms don't work much anymore. Stockton used to get his way through glib, good looks, and good old fashioned deception. Money and carnal pleasure was all fine, of course, but age made him realize that in Sovereign's domain, power was the only currency that mattered.

    He wasn't much of a fighter, and the Dark Army took note of that. Yet, he was still sent out as an archer on some small missions. He did nothing heroic, nor decidedly dastardly, and worst of all, there was nary a promotion in sight. So, he decided to take a risk. He mixed a potent concoction of booze and herbs for his orc commander, challenged him to a game, and his dimwitted commander offered his own rank as a prize, with a rancid, intoxicated belch. However, before either could test their luck, the orc fell over, near death. He was apparently allergic to some ingredient in Stockton's brew. He had asked Cupid what it took to get an orc drunk, but apparently, he messed it up somehow.

    Stockton said nothing of the plan to cheat his boss and instead took the punishment for attempted murder. An empassioned speech from Cupid cleared the air. It testified that he only meant to schmooze the orc, with no intention to kill. Regardless, they're watching him now. And nobody in the Dark Army will drink anything within a twenty foot radius of him.
 
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Tempest

Floofmami
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Everything looks good so far from my cursory glance, guys! I've been having a rough day trying to sleep and I don't like doing busy-work when I'm trying to rest, so a thorough reading will be brushed back for a few hours. Thank you for your interest and follow-through, lovelies! <3
 

Drifter

Let's go to war
Invitation Status
  1. Look for groups
  2. Looking for partners
Posting Speed
  1. One post per week
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
  3. Prestige
  4. Douche
  5. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. Nonbinary
  4. Transgender
  5. Nonbinary
  6. No Preferences
Genres
Modern Fantasy, Sci-Fi, Low Fantasy, Historical, Horror
Take your time, Snowball. You know I'm a slow CS-maker anyway. But I'm liking what I see of these other characters.
 
P

Pastor ćhoi

Guest

  • "I'm a spy for the forces of good! :3"

    Name: Cupid, Junior Archer of The Fourth Choir

    Race: Angel, Cupid-class

    Voice: Sam Lavagnino

    Appearance: Standing at just 1'2" and weighing over 800 pounds, Cupid isn't tall among angels, especially the greater ones the size of nations, but it fits in just fine amidst a crowd of cupids. At least, that's what it tells itself.

    Quirks:

    • Cupid, like many of the angels, sees Virtue as a non-renewable resource and it's coming to claim it back for heaven, even if it means siding with the forces of evil.
    • Except angels are readily accepted into the dark army. They're such colossal pricks that any pretence of supporting the light has long been discarded. Cupid's just so deluded it thinks it's spying on them for the light.
    • Cupid's halo is as close to a set of sensitive genitals as it has. Don't kick it.
    • Cupid is severely underweight by cupid standards, suffering from a form of angelic anorexia where it semi-rejects the residual prayers directed at the Maker.
    • Cupid aspires to be an extradimensional salesperson, seeking to change its career from a rape engineer to working with souls of the damned. Peer pressure is the one big obstacle that stops it from making this leap.

    Strengths:

    • Holocaust: Cupid can drain the Virtue out of anyone by smooching onto the victim's head or kidney. A good creature will turn to dust in seconds. A bad one, um, won't. A morally ambiguous one will acquire a sharp headache the following morning and, um, maybe go bald. Results vary.
    • The Rape of Nun Kin - This is a monotheistic religion, sisters!: Cupid can Rebuke extradimensional entities not of Angelic or Demonic Origin by singing a cheery tune. If they don't fit into the Maker's original design, they have no right to life.
    • O Fortuna: Cupid's presence generates good luck - stolen from the poor, the crippled, and accountants in a 20 mile radius.
    • Two words: Rape Arrows: Cupid can fire off heart arrows that induce a horrifying void of sexual anger in whatever it hits.
    • Wobbles: Cupid possesses flop-flight, enhanced strength (Though far, far less than his weight implies), and a wobbly body that semi-resists most conventional forms of physical trauma - except for blunt damage. Even as a mere foot soldier of heaven, Cupid should have much more than this - but its spiritual anorexia and long leave from heaven have taken its toll

    Weaknesses:

    • Cupid has image issues; it's just not at fat enough for the other cupids to accept it.
    • Cupid has the standard weakness of an angel: It's a pompous, self-righteous cunt.
    • Cupid hates children. It's sponsored paedophile rings in the past to punish them for the sin of not growing up fast enough.
    • Cupid is allergic to the earnest dreams of young children; just not allergic enough to stop it from goomba smashing them into the cold dirt.
    • Cupid can't survive if It doesn't eat enough of the Virtue of his choir, Charity. It's slaughtered his way through soup kitchens and proto medieval socialists in a hunger frenzy in times past.


  • General History: There is a price for basic human decency.

    When the first king graciously conceded the throne to his more well-suited brother, the rift to the black heavens was opened and the choir of Humility poured forth to grace the world with the gift of Pride.

    When the first gift was passed from one child to another, the choir of Kindness ripped through a 2nd rift and imparted Envy into the spiritual makeup of the human soul, lest they waste Virtue with little cause.

    When the first man found himself blessed with true contentment, the choir of Temperance ripped through the 3rd rift and rewarded humanity with the joy of Gluttony, so that they may never lack of want.

    When the first woman-

    The point is the choir of Charity was the 6th in line, and Cupid had been impatiently tapping his stubby cupid wings against his pink blob body in impatience. 30 whole minutes! Talk about keeping a rape angel waiting. But his time came. The sky became as a cracked eggshell, and thousands of pink blob creatures fell from the sky to punish charity and pervert love.

    For the greater good, of course.

    It's been a downhill slope from there. When the heroes of old stormed the black rifts and chained the Maker to his broken throne, they banished the angels back to the beyond whence they came - save cupid, who was dutifully prolonging the agonizing lives of a bunch of child cancer patients. For his service, he was left adrift in a world that he could not survive alone - but the fight went on, with or without the hordes of heavens by his side.

    And so he plopped on to the dark army. Um, the end. Also the thief profile before me went up to some shinengans. Sure.

    Probationary Causation: They spent 5 minutes with him.

    Other: o_o
 
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Baddamobs

Always elegant
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. One post per day
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Preferred Character Gender
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  2. Female
Genres
Fantasy, Adventure, Slice of Life,
Sorry about the delay; character is under the spoiler.

Name: Ssarus Grataka (is enough of a push-over that any nickname you give him will stick, though)

Race: Yuan-Ti, more specifically ‘Abomination’ level.

Appearance: Like other ‘Abomination’ Yuan-Ti, Ssarus’ lower body is like a snake’s while his upper body is more humanoid in shape, though his head and neck is serpent-like (complete with a cobra like ‘hood’). More specifically to Ssarus, he stands upright at around 6’2” (with about a similar length acting as his lower body/’tail’ that slides along the ground). He is willowy and “delicate,” with thin appendages and an overall lack of muscle. His scales are a yellow, dull gold colour on his back, arms and head, with a paler shade of the same colour on his chest, belly and underside. His eyes are a bright orange with the expected serpent slit irises, and his teeth are sharp incisors. He can commonly be seen coiling in on himself to make himself look smaller than he is, and his hood is often pulled in and lacking. He is often nervously glancing about, and his tail will twitch and fidget with worry.

Quirks: - Nervous disposition: it’s pretty rare to see Ssarus calm and collected.
- Cold blooded: While this serpentine trait is down-played in the Yuan-Ti, Ssarus is none the less at the whims of his environment when it comes to his body temperature.
- Bendy: Due to his body’s shape, Ssarus will often coil around or twist around in odd ways, often without thinking.
- Worships an evil god: While Ssarus is actually quite a friendly fellow in many ways, there’s no getting around the fact that he is a priest to an evil snake god who longs to destroy the world. As such, Ssarus is familiar with cult activities, and understands the “necessity” of destroying junk.

Strengths: - Agile/dodger: while he’s not exactly strong, Ssarus can actually fight fairly well in close-quarters combat thanks to his sheer speed and agility. While nothing amazing, his ability to dodge is one of the reasons he’s still alive.
- Weak venom: while some Yuan-Ti’s bites can kill a man in seconds just by grazing him, Ssarus is not so fortunate. That being said, a solid bite on something, and they’ll feel weakened and sluggish due to the toxins in his fangs.
- Minor healing magic: Due to his training as a priest, Ssarus was taught some healing magic. Due to neglecting his training, he never got very far into the subject, meaning he is slow to cast and overall unversed in the particular parts of the magic. Given enough time and space and he can heal up wounds, but it is ill-advised to do so in battle due to how long it takes. Ssarus will not be able to heal major or fatal injuries, and healing undead will have the opposite effect.
- Gift of languages: Due to his extensive studies, Ssarus knows how to read and speak quite a few languages, and has picked up a knack for quickly learning others. If only his confidence actually allowed him to say anything in all these fancy languages.

Weaknesses: - Panicky: Ssarus tends to make poor decisions while under pressure, and will lock up with fear if it gets really bad.
- Snake-skin doormat: Ssarus simply cannot stand up for himself, and can be strong-armed into doing anything.
- Poor stamina: Gets easily exhausted, and requires frequent rest. Healing in particular takes a lot out of him.
- Disgraced: ‘Abomination’ class Yuan-Ti are supposed to be greater leaders, cunning priests, and deadly warriors. Ssarus is none of those things. Just by serving at the bottom of the ladder shows how far Ssarus has fallen, and any other self-respecting Yuan-Ti would spit at him if they have even a shred of pride.

General History:
Ssarus was spawned from a mother who had already achieved a powerful position within the their particular colony of Yuan-Ti, and who’s family was growing ever in power. Ssarus was thus given a prestigious position growing up, a wealth of training, the respect of his peers, and a guarantee of a bright and bloody future.

Or he would, if he had been smart enough to actually see how lucky he had been. Unfortunately, he had been born skittish and unconfident, which made it difficult for others to take him seriously. While his brothers and sisters were already taking positions of influence within Yuan-Ti society, Ssarus mostly spent his time studying the various scrolls and tomes his mother had collected. While Yuan-Ti were by nature ruthless and cunning serpents, Ssarus was oddly polite and cordially. He may have had the speed and venom, but there was no getting around Ssarus was just a very odd Yuan-Ti.

His mother wouldn’t stand for it. Her children’s actions reflected back onto her, and while her other children were already becoming notable in their fields, Ssarus was causing the family name to become the butt of a lot of jokes. She tried everything to knock Ssarus back into order, from sending him to serve a time in the colony’s fighting-force to getting him involved in ‘politics.’ The former failed when Ssarus spent more time running away from the enemy than fighting them, and the later was a long shot due to Yuan-Ti’s extremely cutthroat and back-stab-friendly idea of politics. His mother had even tried to set Ssarus up with a harem in order to grow his confidence, an incident that ending rather infamously with Ssarus retreating back to his bed-chamber crying his snaky eyes out.

In the end, she managed to move him into a position that finally suited him: priesthood. Or at least, an extremely warped idea of it. Being a priest in Yuan-Ti society is usually one that involves a lot of public appearances, condemning other gods, sacrifices, etc., but his mother was shrewd. She knew that many of the priests complained about the many scrolls and decrees that needed to be written and reviewed; boring tasks compared to the more prestigious ones. However, these tasks suited Ssarus just fine. In return for doing their menial work for them, Ssarus would be given an official place within the Yuan-Ti’s cult, and more importantly be moved out of the colony’s eyes. Ssarus was excited at the chance to read so many important scrolls, while his mother was just happy to get him out of the way. Along the way, Ssarus would lean the basic cleric spells he now knows, and slowly become a little bit more confident.

When the Dark Army swept over the land, the Yuan-Ti were eager to answer the call. While they disagreed on who/what/is the one true evil god (and indeed half planned to do some back-stabbing if it came to it) the serpents recognised powerful allies when they saw them. Ssarus’ colony joined up with many other Yuan-Ti colonies and groups, and collective formed an impressively important part of the Dark Army’s backbone.

Ssarus’s mother knew an opportunity was knocking on the door, and it was one she knew how to answer. She ordered her children to being diverting their efforts into claiming the ranks of the Dark Army’s more general roles: while they were all quite respected within the Yaun-Ti part of the Dark Army, her children would now instead aim for more mixed positions. If the Dark Army’s conquest was a success, theses positions of power would become very valuable. Much to Ssarus’s surprise, he wasn’t except from this order. His mother took a gamble, and hoped that his connections to the priesthood would allow him to reach the various cults and sects that her other children had failed to reach.

This actually paid off for a while, surprisingly enough. He had been brought on as an errand boy for the Yuan-Ti’s priests when they went to have what was quickly becoming a regually occurring mass debate of different (evil) religious viewpoints. These more often than not devolved into each party threatening to rip each other’s eyes out, and came close on a number of occasions. Ssarus’ odd stance of ‘agree to disagree’ became a curious topic the debates, and some within the Dark Army’s many religious groups took to talking to the snake. Ssarus was actually beginning to win the trust and respect of his peers when the incident happened.

Probationary Causation:

(Aka, the incident)

One day, while wandering around one of the Dark Army’s many ominous cathedrals, Ssarus came across a death-knight sat atop a set of stairs, complaining and rubbing his knee. Apparently the death-knight had twisted his leg while climbing the stairs and it was aching fiercely. In attempt to be helpful, Ssarus casted a healing spell on the man’s knee.

Unfortunately, he had neglected to check whether or not the death-knight was undead. While Ssarus’ healing magic came from an evil snake god, it was still magic of “light” orientation, and thus stung the death-knight like a swift kick to the nuts. The man had leapt to his feet howling, and in his surprise, accidently stepped towards a window. The death-knight had gone crashing through, pitching over and falling twenty stories to his (second and now permanent) death. Doubly unfortunately, it turned out that the death-knight had been a captain of the one of the Dark Army’s battalions, and was a well liked chap with two kids (Ssarus didn’t want to know how that worked).

All in all, Ssarus considers this banishment to a middle-of-nowhere post actually kind of getting off light, considering execution had been on the table. He’s mostly regretful about two things: for one, his mother made it clear that she so thoroughly disappointed in him that his name had been stripped of the family record. For a second, all the confidence he had been building up was now absolutely shattered, leading him back into the snake he was at the beginning of this whole mess.

Other: Doesn’t actually need to roll “s” sounds. Most Yuan-Ti just do that for intimidation.
 
M

Matizze

Guest
Oh my godness, I fell in love with this rp!! :heartbeat::heartbeat::heartbeat:

*ahem*
Do you have room for one more, or is it too crammed already? And do you have room for a complete newbie that only has played Outbreak Undead a couple of times? I totally understand if you don't!
 
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Tempest

Floofmami
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Do you have room for one more, or is it too crammed already? And do you have room for a complete newbie that only has played Outbreak Undead a couple of times? I totally understand if you don't!

In transition from the Int-Chk to the OOC, I've lost a couple people, it appears. Due to the normal attrition rate post-start, I'm perfectly fine with you also throwing your hat into the ring. I'm not doubting any of my players.... well *looks at Choi and Drifter, especially if they collaborate at any point* most of my players, at least. But it is my experience that within the first few pages of RPs, theory meets application and many people lose interest or cannot follow through. Having a decent sized crew at start, I feel, will be to everyone's advantage with time. *clears throat*

That said... I've finished hell week where I was bouncing between two different jobs and I have the weekend to myself. I will be able to be act like I have a life and do things I enjoy. Meaning that thorough look over everyone's CSs and official approval as a Slag is incoming this weekend. Depending upon just how well I can manage my time... I might see about throwing up an IC this weekend for those who have completed their CSs and are ready to go in order to get the ball rolling... and any stragglers can just hop in after they've finished up and gotten approval.
 

Drifter

Let's go to war
Invitation Status
  1. Look for groups
  2. Looking for partners
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  3. Prestige
  4. Douche
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Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. Nonbinary
  4. Transgender
  5. Nonbinary
  6. No Preferences
Genres
Modern Fantasy, Sci-Fi, Low Fantasy, Historical, Horror
Hey, I resemble that remark!

Choi's on a strict leash this RP, and I'm a very good and coopera-

Okay, yeah. You should doubt us. Makes it better when we inevitably succeed.
 
  • Bucket of Rainbows
Reactions: 1 person
M

Matizze

Guest

Name: Numver "Stone Fist"
Race: Half-Hill Giant
Quirks:
- Hates thinking: Numver isn't really the sharpest sword in the rack, and she hates actions that require logic, intelligence or thinking in general.
- Insatiable hunger: As a result of her hill giant blood, Numver is always hungry. She has learnt to control it, though, and has found that the promise of claiming the carcasses of her enemies as food does wonders for her motivation.
- Hates cowards: Numver firmly believes that an argument should be settled with fists and (in some cases) short-range weapons, and despises "sneaky" methods and weapons almost as much as she loathes people that backs down from a fight.
Strengths:
- Strenght: Her muscular body and huge stature surely hints at Numver's strenght, but she can also proudly say that she has never once been defeated in a brawl, earning her the nickname "Stone Fist".
- Endurance: Numver's stomach can digest most things, apart from the obviously deadly ones, and she has great resistance against both illness and weariness.
- Proficient in close combat: Having honed her skills since she was but a babe, Numver is the best there is at close combat, according to herself, and a decent combatant, according to everybody else.
- I can fight with this!: Her lust for a fight has made Numver proficient in fighting with improvised weapons and armours, throwing together pieces of both junk and loot to fit her massive statue. She does prefer bigger, two-handed weapons, though, and avoids enchanted items.
Weaknesses:
- Huge: Being a Half-Giant makes Numver too big to fit most armors, unless they are specially made. She also takes at least double the space of a regular man, making her a poor choice for any kind of undercover mission. She is a nice target for a shot, though!
- Short tempered: Patience may be a virtue, but screw that!
- Hot-headed: In addition to having a short temper, Numver is also easily worked up.
- Not very intelligent: Hill Giants aren't the smartest, and neither is Numver. Outside of combat, she tends to be really slow. She also has a really bad memory, and 'forgive and forget' tends to be more forgetting and less forgiving.
- No magic proficiency: Numver has no knowledge, nor interest, in magic.

General History: Numver always felt as if the tribe of half-giants into which she was born and raised was more of a family than a tribe. They cooked together over a large fire, they slept under the same sky. They even robbed, plundered and pillaged together, and they shared their loot according to age.
Numver had never been one of the oldest in their little family, but neither was she the youngest, and she usually got some pretty decent goods consisting mostly of second-rate jewelery and the occasional blunt wooden club.
Up to this day Numver still doesn't know why, but one morning she woke up to her entire family being gone. She went looking for them, of course she did, but as her memory wasn't the greatest, she quickly forgot her family's faces. Soon, she couldn't even remember their names. After a year, she had started to forget what she even was looking for, and Numver had started to feel quite comfortable journeying by herself and making a living as a mercenary for hire.
Hearing rumours of the Dark Army's gruesome feats, though, Numver started to long after the thrill of a real battle. The fact that they offered their recruits free food was another point of persuasion for her. So, impulsive as she was, Numver enrolled, and she has been in the army ever since. Actually, she has yet to see a downside to it. Or maybe she has, and has just forgotten about it...

Probationary Causation:
Numver's career as a soldier started out pretty well. Her intimidating, giant stature was working well as a kind of reassurance for her fellow soldiers at the front lines, and she had been quite contempt with being there, bashing in as many skulls as she possibly could.
No, the problem had never been her incompetence. The issue was her insubordination. Numver just couldn't seem to be able to accept that someone that hid behind the front lines would be the boss of her, and she had a hard time grasping any order that required anything other than mindless slaughter.
In the end, Numver was just like any other soldier: replaceable. And so she was transferred from squad to squad, before finally ending up among the Slags.

-----

So, yeah, I tried to look up some D&D races and such, but please tell me if something isn't working, or if I should revise some things!
 

Tempest

Floofmami
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Right... *cracks knuckles* Real quick....

@Kae'os Daemon Accepted

@⭐Razzmatazzical⭐ Accepted (curse your dopey stars, they ruin my summoning powers)

@daird Accepted

@Drifter Accepted

@Baddamobs Accepted

@Matizze Accepted

@Pastor ćhoi Finish your sheet, you blubbery seal-child. o___o

I'll add you all onto the roster soon. I quite like my squad of Slags so far :3 I'm glad you all hopped in in this.... And with 6 accepted members, I'll be looking to tinker with an IC over the next few days. No promises as to when it will be, though x_x It's been a crazy day.
 

Justin

King of Chaos 👑✨
MYTHICAL MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. Speed of Light
  2. Multiple posts per day
  3. 1-3 posts per day
  4. One post per day
  5. 1-3 posts per week
  6. One post per week
  7. Slow As Molasses
Online Availability
I never know when I will get online, but I usually get on most days of the week and weekend. I am pretty active on here so you will see me around a lot.
Writing Levels
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  2. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. Transgender
  4. Primarily Prefer Male
Genres
High School/College, Scifi, Modern, Magical, Horror, Romance, Yaoi, Yuri, Slice Of Life, R Rated xD, Modern Fantasy
Right... *cracks knuckles* Real quick....

@Kae'os Daemon Accepted

@⭐Razzmatazzical⭐ Accepted (curse your dopey stars, they ruin my summoning powers)

@daird Accepted

@Drifter Accepted

@Baddamobs Accepted

@Matizze Accepted

@Pastor ćhoi Finish your sheet, you blubbery seal-child. o___o

I'll add you all onto the roster soon. I quite like my squad of Slags so far :3 I'm glad you all hopped in in this.... And with 6 accepted members, I'll be looking to tinker with an IC over the next few days. No promises as to when it will be, though x_x It's been a crazy day.
But they're pretty rofl and I read everything so I can be summoned by just posting lol.
 
K

Kae'os Daemon

Guest
Right... *cracks knuckles* Real quick....

@Kae'os Daemon Accepted

@⭐Razzmatazzical⭐ Accepted (curse your dopey stars, they ruin my summoning powers)

@daird Accepted

@Drifter Accepted

@Baddamobs Accepted

@Matizze Accepted

@Pastor ćhoi Finish your sheet, you blubbery seal-child. o___o

I'll add you all onto the roster soon. I quite like my squad of Slags so far :3 I'm glad you all hopped in in this.... And with 6 accepted members, I'll be looking to tinker with an IC over the next few days. No promises as to when it will be, though x_x It's been a crazy day.
Yay, Snowball has accepted me. ^-^
 
G

Gat

Guest
Backstory still being nutted out...

Name: 'Murphy' (Really Samuel Riverstone, but very few people actually use or even know his real name)
Race: Human
Appearance

Strengths:
* Well learned: Murphy had a rather polished upbringing with personal tutors in Math, Language and History. As a result he speaks, reads and writes in several languages and is passably conversational in a couple more besides.
* Engineer: Murphy likes to know how things, particularly mechanical things, tick, how they're made, to what purpose, why the straw and stick houses blew down while the brick one stayed standing, and then how to bring the brick house down as well. He's pretty good at it too and possibly, combined with his personal projects... the only reason he's even still in the army.
* Gunsmith: The way of the future! Murphy will loudly proclaim when asked about the odd weapons he carries. Designed and built by his own hand, their impressive ability to be lethal even in untrained hands has caught the eye of a higherup in the army, who has pulled a few strings to make sure Murphy stays with the army so he can eventually perfect their rather quirky nature to the benefit the army.
* Tougher Than He Looks: Despite being of rather unimpressive stature, Murphy is not weak and whimpy. The forging of his weapons in no mean feat, requiring time in a forge just as a sword does, though somewhat more complicated, not to mention the weapons volatile nature and other quite regular mishaps Murphy seems to be involved in... a lesser man would have died in their childhood.

Weaknesses:
* Accident Prone: Things just have a habit of accidentally breaking, or some loose stone trips him, or he overbalances while reaching for something, or a stray spark ignites the shot in his weapon at the wrong moment... its not his fault, honest.
* I Can Fix this!: Sometimes, he actually can; but just as often, especially in cases where whatever is broken is his fault... his enthusiasm to set it right... might only make things worse.
* Oh, Thats an Idea!: Murphys mind is constantly active, always trying to puzzle something out, especially when doing some 'mundane task'. As a result he tends to be easily distracted, often by his own thoughts.
* Book Smarts: Now Murphy is smart, knowledgeable and some might occasionally go so far as to say brilliant in hushed tones when they think most people aren't listening. Problem is the vast majority of that knowledge and smarts... comes from books... with little actual practical experience to back it up...

General History:
TBD

Probationary Causation: So Murhpy may have tried to help the armies siege engineers improve their weapons of war, several barrels of black powder later and Murphy found himself assigned to the Slags

… oh and what used to be the siege engineers larger workshop is a pile of rubble...
 

Nue

Gencha WILL be MINE!
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I'm here to formally express my interest in this rp, I will post a CS after I clear up a few other things on this website ^^
 
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Greenie

Follow the Strange Trails
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  2. Female
  3. Primarily Prefer Female
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GAH D: I didn't realize the OOC was up *cries*

I'm still interested, am I too late?