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Topics - GreenTrap

Pages: [1] 2
Here is our portfolio where each chapter of R&R will be posted.

Synopsis: A young patriot takes up arms with a rebellion that seeks to overthrow a space-faring empire. Yet he doesn't envision how far his side will go to reverse a losing war.

(Our first chapter is still in the works so enjoy 1000 words worth of logs in the meantime~)

Logs: 1064 words
Log 1:
Government Sponsored Broadcast- October 11th 551 years after Space Flight

“Just to update our viewers, we have changed our name from Asturian Global News to the National News Channel after Stateholder Andrea Lisbon received enough support to pass the Censorship Act in Parliament.

Some states have voiced their concern at this attempt to nationalise all major news reporting outlets, but supporters of Lisbon have said that the increased government funding will improve the quality.

Once the Act has been fully implemented, we’ll back with you with our daily schedule.

Until then, I’m Justin Trough.”

Log 2:
State of Naarva declaration during Martial Law- February 27th 553 S.F.

“...And any retailers caught adding sawdust to their bread, water to their milk, charcoal to their coffee, or in any other attempt at artificially bulking their products will be heavily fined and their manager detained indefinitely.

In addition, the General-Governor has issued the following short-term measures to deal with our shortage of manpower on the frontlines...”

Log 3:
Popular poem amongst Asturians regarding Imperials- 553 S.F.

If it were only you and me
I’d happily kill you here and now.
If it were only you and me
I’d pull this grenade pin and blow.
Because if it were you and me
I’d rather rot in hell.

Log 4:
News Broadcast- March 1st 553 S.F.

“Reporter Justin Trough won’t be in today as he was killed during a food riot Naarva this morning. Our thoughts and prayers are with his family.

In recent news, Governor Tristan Pauwels has made his bid for Stateholder in the upcoming elections. He runs on a pro-independence platform that rejects foreign aid in the war against the Trastabarcid empire, going against incumbent Andrea Lisbon’s anti-alien and populist agenda.

We will cover more on this story later in an exclusive interview with Tristan’s aide and daughter Laureen Pauwels...”

Log 5:
Identification of Trastabarcid military forces by Leftenant John McRandal of the Empress's Own 8th Mechanized Dragoons.

Trastabarcid Imperial forces are a very distinctive military force, with a unique style of military identification, that makes them both intimidating, and also easy to distinguish from one another in part by the traditions of the Empire’s entrenched nobility.

1. Imperial Hoplite Infantry. The Imperial Hoplites are a very striking force, easily identified by their signature armour, most well recognized by their helmets. Keep that in mind as the helmet of an Imperial Hoplite can tell you everything you need to know about them.

Enlisted soldiers wear plain helmets often painted in specific patterns by either their unit or personal decoration. Important to note that all decoration on enlisted men’s helmets are limited to using the helmet as a canvas, no extra adornments may be added without special permissions. Should you encounter a unit with something of that sort, caution is advised as only the most elite of forces would allow their rank and file to add such ornamentation.

NCO’s, are spotted by the long hawk feathers adorned to the sides of the helmet just above where the ear would be. The position of the NCO can be identified by the painted colours at the top of the feather. Extra note, some highest ranking and veteran sergeants may wear a horsehair crest.

Officers, are the most distinct and easy to identify by the horse hair crest worn on the top of the helmet. Rank can be distinguished by the colour of the crest. Red is the lowest and most common representing a Lieutenant and even some high ranking sergeants.(see previous section for details.) Next would be blue, representing the equivalent rank of Captain. Orange, representing the rank of Major. Green, representing Lieutenant Colonel. Golden Yellow representing Colonel, and finally Purple representing those the rank of General and their authority on behalf of the Trastabarcid Imperial family.

Log 6:
From Leftenant John McRandall of the Queen’s Own 8th Mechanized Dragoons, to Major Cameron Siffitz Asturian Volunteers.

Subject: The proper maintenance of the infantryman’s rifle.

Dear Major Siffitz, I hate to intrude upon your clearly busy schedule, but I feel that this is an issue that you would find important enough for me to do so.
While I have only recently arrived at my posting here as an advisor to your military forces, I have already observed more than enough instances of alarming behavior it astounds me that this is what your country calls its regular soldiers. To start, is the subject of this letter. The way your men treats their rifles is akin to how Commonwealth regulars treat their dirty undergarments. I must protest that if you wish to carry out a successful military effort, your men must keep their essential equipment in peak condition as things stand you do not have the resources to carelessly abuse it.
I apologize if any of this comes off as an insult to you, it is not intended that way. With all do respect, I request that we meet in person to discuss this issue in further detail and come up with solutions.
I hope this message finds you well.

-Leftenant John McRandall

Log 7:
From Major Cameron Siffitz Asturian Volunteers, to Leftenant John McRandall of the Queen’s Own 8th Mechanized Dragoons.

Subject: A Response to ‘The proper maintenance of the infantryman’s rifle.’

Dear Leftenant McRandall, I shall take your suggestion under advisement, have a good day.

-Major Cameron Siffitz

Log 8:
From Leftenant John McRandall of the Queen’s Own 8th Mechanized Dragoons, to Major Cameron Siffitz Asturian Volunteers.

Subject: Continuation of The proper maintenance of the infantryman’s rifle

Dear Major Siffitz, once again, with all due respect, I must stress the dire importance to reverse this poor behavior at once. Today alone, I observed a Private Corvinus, of First Company, using his rifle as a prop for his tent with the barrel sticking into the ground. This along with countless improper uses of the bayonet by almost all of your men alarm me deeply. I request that you rethink my proposition to sit down and talk about the sloppy treatment of equipment by your men.

-Leftenant John McRandall

Log 9:
From Major Cameron Siffitz Asturian Volunteers, to Leftenant John McRandall of the Queen’s Own 8th Mechanized Dragoons.

Subject: A Response to Leftenant John McRandall

Dear Leftenant McRandall, thank you for your observations, I will take them into consideration at a later date. Have a good evening.

-Major Cameron Siffitz

MR Pub / Happy New Year my Raiders! Bring on 2018!
« on: December 31, 2017, 07:18:19 PM »
2018 has visited the British Isles and soon to visit the West, so I just wanted wish happiness and fortune to you Raiders!  :santa: :dance:

Let’s see what this new year will bring!

So here's a little workshop that was inspired by the layout of Lego's one a week ago:,18825.0.html Ironically that was also inspired by a different workshop, so maybe a trend of inspirations will settle in here  :dance:

Anyways, one of the things I've learnt when writing film scripts at University is that an audience can't read a narration of what a character will be like. Instead they need to observe what a character does or says to get glimpses into their personality and emotions.

Translating this into novel format can be hard for beginners. If you're used to a 'Tell' approach, it can be very hard to get out of. An example of a 'Tell' approach can be something simple like; "Mikasa was Angry. She threw a plate on the floor. The others were scared."
However, a simple sentence such as that can be spiced up if we avoid telling the anger, fear and crash and instead 'Showed' "Mikasa's smile soured into a grimace. Everyone's ears perked up at the sound of Mikasa's plate being flung to the floor, shattering before their feet. Wanting nothing more to do with this, they all retreated from the building."

Visual cues in body langauge as well as using the five senses are good tools to change from Tell into a Show. So why don't we all practice now by putting our own Shows on some Tells? I'll put one example and the next person will Show it, then put down their example for another to Show it, and so on  :thumbsup:

The Princess was happy. Her garden was beautiful in the Summer.

Develop Your Story / CRUCIBLE 2047! (Recruitment thread)
« on: December 07, 2017, 03:26:00 PM »
***We interrupt this program to bring you a special announcement***

Citizens! Slaves! Illegal aliens and high-awareness A.I.s! It's that time of the year again!


For the past twenty years, we have provided for the intense bloodlust that you denizens crave. By fighting in the Crucible, even the lowest of humans can have a shot at fame and fortune whilst giving our Glorious State the entertainment we all deserve!


Our benevolent leader, First Citizen Kane, has once again given permission for the Crucible to receive thousands of applications and accept only fourteen applicants to partake in this event. Only he, our Saviour and Protector from the outside world, could possibly endorse this chance for social mobility. After all, who doesn't want wealth, popularity, power, land, and even clean water!


As an audience member you can decide with your votes who will fight against who, how each of the fights will go, and if lucky you'll be allowed to interview one of our fighters!

When the 14 participants start dwindling in numbers, it will be the audience that decides who makes it into the finals and eventually take on last year's champion!


(Refunds not available. We are not responsible for any death, injury, theft, mental trauma or radiation caused within the spectator crowd. Bets and votes can be purchased with credits, food stamps, or slave labour. Contact your local Military Commissioner for more details.)

***We now return to The Real Housewives Of The Establishment***


Hello MR Raiders! Here's a little thing that's been going about in my mind for a short while, a Battle Royale  :ninja: This isn't the first time something like this has been on here, but I figured it would be a fun thing that people can take part of without having to go by rules or adhere to a strict setting.

The basic idea is that Raiders can take part as a Spectator or Participant. Spectators will be allowed to vote on who will fight who, vote on what can happen in battles, whether loses will be executed and get bonus interviews with the characters.

Participants (max. 7) will be able to vote as well (Except in their own fights) but they'll have the chance to create a character to fight against pre-made and Raider-made characters for their chance of winning CRUCIBLE 2047 and getting one wish granted!

Other than the setting being an apocalyptic 2047 Earth, the setting will be loose and free enough for Raiders to paint their own colours into this story, as well as getting some fantastic fights written down.

If you are interested in being either a Participant or Spectator, or have any questions,  please shoot me a PM  :thumbsup:

+++Roster (Premade NPC's)
Hiro Rudawaski: A young school dropout using his newfound electrical powers to save his sickly village.

Frostbite: Working for a now deceased government to carry out important yet mysterous orders.

Ronin: African cyborg bounty hunter who will bring hard justice to the chaotic world.

Madame Manager: Rich CEO with legs of superhuman strength and dominance in the clean water market.

Splash: A girl made entirely of water with a hunger... to make friends.

Aristo-Kat: A rich landowner from Siberia whose powers allow him to take shape of any feline.

Genki Girl: Otaku with indestructible hair and robot-gadgets to overcome any problem.

+++Roster (Raider Participants)
Faramund: Alcohol loving satyr who commands nature through magic to protect the remains of Earth's ecosystem.

Azuki Tenjo: Last living member of a line of ancient guardians wanting to bring explosive justice to the world.

Centurio Skeletus: A knowledge seeker who sacrificed his flesh for immortality and roman armour!

Tentacle Man: Weird. Wonderful. Wacky. The name says it all!

Blank: A jack of all trades with much mystery. Is his soulless mask blank for a reason or just to distract his opponent?

Prince Bexos: Heir to a corporate empire and determined to achieve economic conquest. Be wary, as his money is more than just for show...

Fortis and MahluaandMilk have joined in on making the Crucible! As our announcer and fight adviser respectively, they'll help make the Crucible an awesome event!

break Room / Choose your party!
« on: November 29, 2017, 12:39:31 PM »
So the idea is simple; if you went adventuring in a typical anime RPG setting then who would you want in your party? The template below is a useful guide (and the only one I could find)

Put your answers down below! I have my own one here...


Hero/Leader: Jean Kirstein

Mage: Kiba Inusuka (Nature powers are pretty handy!)

Healer: Suu (This isn't about snu snu with suu  :( Being invunerable is actually handy!)

Knight/Tank: Jet

Fighter: Rinkah

Support: Froppy

Rogue: Liliruca Arde

break Room / What is your to-watch list?
« on: November 28, 2017, 05:01:48 AM »
If you are lazy (like me) or too busy (not like me) to watch you’re favourite anime, you’ll probably have a decent sized watchlist. I have mine listed here...

Spice and Wolf
Outlaw Star
Psychpass episode 6+

What about you folks? How big is your list and what is on it?

break Room / Favourite Anime Style?
« on: November 16, 2017, 01:58:39 PM »
This probably has been posted before, but hey why not revive it if that’s the case?  :ninja:

I’m quite a fan of anime done in the 90s, especially in the style of Cowboy Bebop or LOTGH. For me it makes an anime feel more serious and the characters look a lot older  :hmm:

What do you fellas think? What are your favourites?

break Room / First World Problems
« on: October 18, 2017, 04:17:42 PM »
Going on today’s trend of trivial matters...

That feel when you want to use the toilet but the bathroom is locked and someone just got in the bath

Develop Your Story / [Novel Marathon]- Real Heroik Prologue and Glossary
« on: August 04, 2017, 01:54:21 PM »
Novel Marathon Workshop:,18460.msg285682.html#msg285682

Story: Real Heroik
Genre: Dark Fantasy, Epic

Synopsis: Heroes and Heroines have become outdated to an advancing world. Few retired, most resisted and were hunted down. What do these survivors have to look forward to?

Prologue- 989 words
A hero is a man who is afraid of running away. That was what his mother used to say when he was young. One of the sweet memories Glade had of her before she and the rest of his family were hanged by the Doux's soldiers ten years ago.

He couldn't help but have this thought when he stumbled into a similar aged boy playing in the woods. In the youngster's hand was a wood-carving of a knight with a sword. Enthusiastically he asked about Glade being a hero, to which he agreed and gifted him his distinct feathered hat. It'll be our secret, he remembered telling the boy before Glade disappeared behind a tree.

Leading to where he was now, observing. Only half an hour passed and the fat boy still ran about making noises and shouting cliched lines about defeating evil. The child kept gazing up at the feathered hat he had perched on top of a stick and was waving about in the summer breeze. Then as Glade expected, a hail of bullets snickered through the foliage of the bushes. The fat child squealed and rapidly vacated the scene on all fours.

Pouring through the greenery, a group of guards scattered leaves and twigs as they searched the area. They had polished swords and varnished muskets, and breastplates imprinted with the shadowed bull of Doux Louys Doumont. By now Glade had hidden himself high up on one of the tree branches, well out of sight.

"I saw his hat. He was here." One of the guards mumbled

"Then he must have escaped. Back to the horses." Another barked

Glade waited until the sound of metal footsteps disappeared in the distance, before he could sighed and shake his head in dismay. Pulling stunts like that, he thought, just makes my mother's ghost angrier and angrier. He was a man with long hair and scruffy features. Fringe knotted and skin scratched, Glade's hair was as brown as his clothes, yet behind his rough appearance was a perky posture and energy to match.

The real object of the guard's endeavours, the feathered hat, was all they could recognise him by from the details of a wanted poster he snatched from Saumart City. Only a few people knew his true appearance, and he made sure they wouldn't give out his details.

Glade hopped down and followed first the footsteps and then the hoof steps. When he heard familiar voices, he started crawling through the dense undergrowth on a raised bank of woodland to the south of the noise. As an aid to considering his next move, he pulled a pack of cheroots from a pocket, stuck one in the corner of his mouth and lit it. Gazing through the thin veil of cheroot smoke at the thick carpet of dead leaves that covered the woodland floor, a plan began to form in his mind along side the crooked smile that spread slowly across his dry lips.

"Seems like they stopped again." He whispered to himself "Time to make sure my escape is 100% foolproof."

Extinguishing the cheroot Glade wetted his finger and raised it to check for a breeze, then immediately began gathering an armful of the twigs and short sticks that lay in abundance about him. These he carried to a point west of his hiding place. Here Glade scraped the top layer of tinder dry leaves into a  broad pile and topped it with the twigs and sticks, he covered this structure with a thick layer of the damp, decomposing leaves that lurked below the top layer, leaving a hole at the top of the pile and making one at the bottom edge through which he lit the tinder dry leaves. Swiftly he repeated his actions twice at twenty meter intervals then stood back to observe his handy work.

The first fire was already producing a dense pall of pale, eye stinging smoke with which the breeze was beginning to cloak the woodland floor. As Glade watched the second fire also began its work. With his smile back in attendance, Glade set off back into the woods to circumvent the scene and take up a position behind the company of guards.

There was nobody there apart from clothed horse tethered to a branch. Their saddles had a Bull's head sewn into the material. Glade's smile broadened as he peered into the drifting wraiths of smoke. He could just make out a couple of shadowy figures crouched behind trees and the occasional sound of muffled voices. There had been no further gunfire and the guards had obviously gone to investigate the mystery of the feathered hat. The horse seemed nervous of the smoke which was probably why the guards went on foot. Glade's smile was now one of triumph. He quickly soothed the beast, slipped the rein from its branch and sprang into the saddle, steering the horse away from the smoke. Glade made his way around the engulfed section and cantered out of the wood and down the hill towards the valley below.

The sight of a small figure stumbling down the hill ahead of him made Glade rein the horse to a walk. As they drew level, the fat child looked up in surprise. The reason for his stumbling gait was obvious, he had spitting bullet wound on his thigh. Glade's smile morphed into a look of  guilt.

"The guards shot me." The child said with no emotion, which scared Glade "After you gave me your feathered hat, they shot me."

He was only meant to be a distraction, Glade thought to himself. He ordered the child to stay put and to not move. He glanced back over his shoulder. Those guards are getting more reckless.

"I'd better get going" Glade mumbled shamefully "That smoke will be clearing by now."

He spurred the horse forward and disappeared into foliage just as the sound of armoured footsteps approached.

Glossary- for the tough fantasy words
Hero/Heroine- A human with a specific set of magical powers.

Cheroot- Cigar with both ends clipped.

Doux- Another word for Duke, often the hereditary overlord of several Banns.

Bann- Another word for Baron, often in hereditary possesssion of a City or Castle and surrounding farmland.

(First name) De (Last name)- Often a sign of nobility. It means the individual owns/comes from the land they take their last name from.

Moleman- Similar to dwarves but with pug noses, bad eyesight and soberness.

The Basin- The most civilised part of the world known to the characters, everyone in this area has had their culture and history shaped by the sea separating north and south.

Mana- The magic which Heroes draw on to fuel their powers.

Character Card 001- Glade
Strength: 5
Dexterity: 6
Magic: 10
Cunning: 9
Dignity: 2
Endurance: 5
Child-Friendly: 0

Develop Your Story / [Novel Marathon]- Just Talk About It!
« on: August 01, 2017, 03:37:32 PM »
As per the recommendations of Operative13  :hmm: Hope you enjoy this b@stard comedy!

Link to my portfolio  :hmm:,18460.msg285682.html#msg285682

Part 1

"O my dear father, restoration hang thy cure in my hug, and let this embrace repair those violent harms that my two stepmothers have in thy reverence made!"


Flailing like a child jumped up on too many sweets, the old man swung too and from in his chair. His long wispy beard would dip in and out of his tomato soup, brown teeth would clack together as if his mouth were a maraca, liver-spotted forehead reflecting the blinkering light bulbs that were placed in fire-hazardous positions around the house.

Beside him was his concerned son, stunted of height and muscle. His thin arms tried to hold his father in place whilst using a soft voice to soothe the mood.

"Oh dear father, I can no longer keep it to myself." The son sighed "I must ask... ever since the divorce, you're not really happy are you?"

The old man stood up in an explosion of stuttering and soup "Nonsense Andy! I just want some bloody cocaine!"

"So it is the drug debt that concerns you." Andy shook his head, soft brown hair fluttering in the breeze coming from the rat holes in the wall "£10,000 is a lot of money. How dare my two mothers run away with it! How dare they!"

A gentle tear rolled down his dirty face, like an angry scientist punching his way through a flat-earth society. Poverty was all Andy knew in his life, that and how to hide drugs in certain body cavities on demand. Now that they were sinking deeper and deeper into the black hole of debt, something needed to be done about it.

"My dear Andy." The father said, squeezing his shoulder "Our problems have grown to such an unmanageable point that I can no longer afford my cocaine. There's only one thing you can do."

"You don't mean..."

"Yes Andy." The father grinned "I want you to become a gigolo."

Throwing off his father's hand, Andy would not stoop so low as to prostitute himself to others. He had dreams. He had talent. His nose was rather cute. No, it was time that Andy took matters into his own hands the only way he knew how. The Student Council. 

Its been two hours since Karen had arrived at the daily assembly for the Student Council, yet neither the head nor the deputy were in sight. The early morning light beamed through the large coloured windows of Marlowe cafe, painting a messy rainbow onto the unoccupied stage towering over the tables and seats in front of it.

Not many students had turned up to be honest. Whether it was the 7am time slot or the lack of actual commitment, Karen couldn't tell. Not even the treasurer, which she was deputy to, had bothered turning up for the past week alone. Only a few useless Council Cabinet members and a handful of Subject Heads sat scattered amongst the seating; Livian Asquith of the secretive Tea Society, Marcus Lincoln of the destructive Rugby Fraternity, Oliver Bumswick of the elitist Horse Riding Club, and Sarah Jones of the stoic Computer Guild. To name but a few.

Karen rubbed her half-lidded panda eyes, darkened because of lack of sleep though she'll tell you it's because she's actually dead inside. She was a pale white, with long, dry black hair and dark green eyes. She wore a standard blue uniform but with a skirt that reached her ankles rather than the typical knees.

Her boredom did not subside even when Paddy, her dimwitted dwarf of a friend, came in with a typical goofy smile. Even as Karen tapped Paddy's hand to the table and played five finger fillet, her boredom did not leave. Even as Paddy started going on about her ridiculous stories, Karen grew more restless.

"...And so they paid me £50 to climb up the big oak tree in the University fields!" Paddy blubbered on like the ugly potato she was.

Karen sighed and paused her abusive game "Paddy, they only wanted to see your knickers from below the tree."

"Aha, I knew that." She tapped her head "I was real cunning, right! I took my knickers off before I climbed!"

"Paddy, I would say you have the intelligence of a five year old, but it would be insulting to children to compare them to you."

Resuming her five finger fillet, Karen did wonder how much longer she'd have to endure the company of others. Just the other day she had to put up with the Council debate over whether clapping at celebrations was discriminating those who had no hands.

It wasn't like she had noble intentions herself however. Karen was here only for the small salary that was in the job description. £1000 a year. Not much, but Karen had ambitions. She had plans...

"Good morning everyone." Mitchell, the Deputy Head announced as he walked to the stage.

Big plans. So big that Karen didn't pay much attention when she accidentally stuck the knife into the table, with Paddy's hand in the way of the blade. Karen just needed to seize whatever opportunity the Council threw her way.

"In the absence of our Head Victoria Violet Virginia Worthington, I've decided to chair this meeting." He said to an unenthusiastic round of applause.

Mitchell was a man of average height, with stylish black hair and a slight Irish accent. His teeth were unnaturally white and his smile somewhat dazed. He looked as if he belonged on a gambling commercial, Karen thought.

"Now recent statistics show that on our university grounds, 1 in 30 people have been a victim of abuse, according to this latest survey." He said with controlled energy and a well timed raise of his hand "Thus the other 29 must be abusers and should be punished. Agreed?"

Everyone in the hall shrugged.

"Excellent. Motion carried. Now onto our next topic, we have a new position opening up on the Cabinet today; Woman's Officer."

Karen leaned forward. She already knew this was happening, but it hasn't been announced yet who was chosen for the new role. The lucky individual would get £3000 a year as their salary, a step up from her deputy role. She had the advantage of being the required gender, so she beat half the possible candidates already to getting the job.

Mitchell continued "This job requires a caring individual. One with passion and determination to bring change. To challenge some of society's outdated attitudes. Someone who is ultimately selfless."

"And I wrote a damn good resume to get that appearance." Karen grinned to herself

"I would now like to announce our new Woman's Officer... Andy Boorman!"

A small woman of soft brown hair approached the stage and bowed before the group "Thank you for choosing me."

"ANDY?!?" Karen blurted out, realising she had all eyes on her "Ahem... what is Andy short for?"

"Uh, um..." the short girl twiddled her thumbs "Andrew?"

Barely holding her contempt, Karen sneered "That's a boy's name."

"And something that our Council supports." Mitchell interrupted "Especially for a girl as beautiful as Andrew."

He's fallen for her.

Karen couldn't believe it but she could see. The Deputy Head praised Andy, directed his body language towards her, he even gave his subtle lick of the lips. It wouldn't be a wild guess to assume Mitchell gave the title to Andy on the basis of expecting 'something' in return.

"Bloody hell. What a creep." Karen rolled her eyes.

"My hand..." Paddy whimpered as she had done for the past ten minutes.

That money should be Karen's. Of course she didn't deserve it, nobody on this Council deserves anything for the lack of either effort or quality they put into their job. But for Karen, the world doesn't work the way of fair game or karma. It's only by being the most magnificent bastard out of a pack of prats will someone then come out on top. And that's what Karen will have to do.

break Room / Artists on bad projects?
« on: July 30, 2017, 03:24:18 PM »
I was going through some of the reviews for the recent Emoji movie that came out, which I assume everyone knows was panned by critics, and had a thought... "What does an animator (Or an artist in the case for raiders) do when they're halfway through a project and realise it's pretty crap but are still getting paid."  :hmm: :hmm: :hmm:

I'm not asking in the sense that "Would you quit or stay?" but more "How would you cope?"  :ninja:

Manga Creations / Sunken: Story Thread- Prologue
« on: July 06, 2017, 10:41:07 AM »
If you are interested in joining, or wish to post a comment, please follow this link!,18287.msg283821/topicseen.html#msg283821



The world is sinking.

Cities have fallen into the ocean. Families migrate inwards. Unrest and famine threaten the progress civilisation has made to put the dark ages behind them.

Chaos creates opportunity however, as these men and women will find out...


Aporia Nyx: Prologue (Written by Green and Abe)

"You fool! You've gone done it now!" Nigel screamed

Aporia stood over the recently wounded mayor. His curved khopesh dripping red onto the wooden floor of the tavern. Outside the day dawned bright, entering through the tinted windows along with noise and clamor of townsfolk breaking their fast. However, inside this very room everyone was quiet; the portly bartender, the frightened children, the groggy drunks from last night. All eyes were on the injured man soaking himself in the growing puddle of red.

"Aporia does not understand the commotion." Aporia said in his accent not native to Albania.

"It's because you're a fool! How many times have I said to not injure the targets?" Nigel stepped backwards and took a long look at the patrons. They all witnessed Aporia's clean cut, separating the mayor's hand from his wrist. And for what reason? "Just because the mayor was giving us lip doesn't give us reason to injure him!"

Reeking of ale, it was clear the mayor's sharp tongue was emboldened with liquid courage. Yet his lack of a straight answer, much like his lack of attention to his duties, angered the pair of mercenaries. "He picked the wrong day to act above his authority." Aporia thought to himself

The foreign mercenary rolled his eyes to his companion "Your customs are most confusing. You say something yet you don't meant it. Is this your so called sarcasm? Banter? Wit?" Aporia sheathed his khopesh and went through the wounded man's pockets, "Aproia gave him two options. If the man valued his life, he would not have been injured."

The duo continued their argument in haste outside. Walking through the dusty footpaths towards the wooden gates, avoiding the accusing eyes and quiet whispers of passerbys.

"Keep moving. I already had trouble with a dwarf in here a night ago." Nigel commanded "With any luck, we won't run into-"

The gate guard bellowed to the town "Make way for Lady Susan of Elmwood."

A deep rumble, almost as if the iron doors were groaning, came from the widening entrance. Surrounded by a company of proud, crimson clothed Knights was a young noblewoman sat on top of a well groomed white stallion. Her neat blonde hair covered the top half of her eyes, making her expression impossible to read. A mixture of rich fabric and decorated armor was fitted tightly onto her small body.

She dismounted her horse...

...or at least tried to. Her little chubby legs would not reached the floor. The knights broke composure and tried to help their liege untangle herself from the saddle.

Nigel dropped his voice, "Leave the talking to me. Lady Susan may be generous in payment, but she's bad tempered with, uh, results."

"Aporia will take this opportunity to study the Western tongue." He crossed his muscular arms in anticipation.

The young noble approached the two, hands on hips.

"You big meanies!" She whined in a childish voice "How am I supposed to tax people, fund my undeserved lavish lifestyle, then grow old and fat yet repress it psychologically, if you keep hurting all my people!"

Barely reaching five feet in height, both men tried their best to not look confident when talking down to their employer. As Nigel gave his explanation, Aporia could smell a fruity perfume filling the air.

Sweat was starting to form on Nigel's brow, "Then Aporia misinterpreted my words. I advised him to use his sword-"

"Aporia uses a khopesh."

"-Korma curry, or whatever it was! I advised him to get violent when the mayor gave us trouble." Nigel rubbed his hands nervously. He could feel the silent gazes of the Lady's crimson Knights bearing down on him. Pushing him into the dirt almost.

Lady Susan narrowed her eyes on Aporia, questioning his intent. Holding a firm stature, Aporia looked down on the girl "Aporia only did what he was commanded. The mayor gave me verbal trouble. Nigel did not specify what trouble I had to respond to. So I chopped his hand off."

She cocked her head "That's a bit of an overreaction!"

"Back where Aporia came from, the eastern coast as its known to your people, we have a much smaller vocabulary. We mean what we say." He remembered his home well, the hot summers and wonderful textiles filled his childhood memories. Aporia could not return however ever since the ocean collapsed between Albania and the Eastern Coast. "There is no double meaning or side-tracking with our words."

The other mercenary shook his head "See what I mean? He's a hard man to work with."

"Well I now have an angry town to deal with. I'll have to lower taxes to prevent a riot!" Lady Susan seemed disgusted at the thought, "Or I could punish you both here and now. I'll chop off your stupid heads and put them on spikes!"

In quick haste, the surrounding knights bared their weapons. With helmets shaped like a falcons beak, their swords were their talons, eager to swipe at their prey.

Nigel fell to his knees "Please don't kill me! My wife would want to see me one last time!"

"I'll just send her your head, silly." Lady Susan smiled, as if she had answered a simple maths problem "But where should I send your head, Aporia?"

Aporia scratched his chin in thought "The nobility of this land are very disturbed." Was all he sighed.

Just as Lady Susan was about to give the command, one of the knights knelt down and whispered in her ear. She nodded and signaled for soldiers to sheathe their weapons.

"Actually, I have a better use for you two..." She grinned "Kill two peasants with one stone as they say."

(To be continued plays in the background)

Rotgar Ironhammer: Prologue (Written by Euko and Green)

"Blood was shed, between bandit and farmer, then Queen Erith intervened, head to toe in red armour.
It seemed one sided, to these villains that don't bath, but our hero, our Queen, cut through them like a warpath."

The fat bard bowed to a thunderous applause from the customers of the Tavern 'Mrs. Miggins Binge and Minge'. It's main room was foggy with smoke and heavy in smell of ducks and hares twirling on the spit roast. Crimson banners of the Queen furled over the wooden walls along with a vanilla colored animal; the falcon, symbol of Queen Erith and her family.

Amongst this hustle and bustle was a table overflowing with empty cups and mugs. Two Knights, a bald man and a butch woman, and a mercenary, whose height would be akin to dwarves from folklore, sat at this table. They were clinking their drinks together, nibbling on honey-glazed chicken legs, and relishing in tales of battle.

Again, the fat bard plucked at his lute and sang.

"The Queen's Chancellor had a vision, for a new and better City.
All Tomas needed was, a friendly loan, taxes and money.
The Queen's gold was used, for the amazing transformation.
Now Dockshire has become, the pride of all the nation."

Another applause as well cheers and jeers. The barmaids took their chance to clean the tables and take new orders.

"A pint of beer, if you'd be kind." The bald man smirked

"I'll take a shot of whiskey." The butch woman nodded "Rotgar, what are you having?"

The short man chuckled "Rhea, you and Malcom know me well enough. I'll have a pint of whiskey with some ale to wash it down! Make it quick, lass!"

In familiar company, Greta the wide-hipped barmaid shook her head and sighed "Mind your manners Rotgar. You're letting the drink go straight to your noggin."

Malcolm puffed out his chest "Pathetic! Give me double what Rotgar has!" Midway through his sentence, his eyes drifted and dribbled over her chest and corset.

A loud metal bang flattened Malcolm's nose as Rotgar recoiled his mailed first. The two stared daggers at one another. A small pocket of silence in the dense mutterings of a hundred drunk conversations. Suddenly they both laughed and clasped hands.

"I wish you would always be this sharp!" Malcolm half chuckled and half choked on his blood

Rotgar's horsey laughter blew out of his nose and breezed through his large crescent-shaped mustache. There was more hair up and around his nostrils than on Malcolm's head.

Their banter was interrupted to the intrusion of a group of muscular men wearing boiled leather and wielding rusty iron weapons. Like a group of rhinos, they pushed everything and everyone out of their way as they kicked the bard off of his stage and took the attention.

"Good evening all, my name is Cleese." Their leader, a blonde grinning man, announced "Now that I have your attention, please put all your items in front of the stage and we'll let you leave the building alive."

Cleese's companions hurriedly snatched away whatever items the patrons would offer them. Silk handkerchiefs, silver rings, a subscription to F1 Formula Horse Racing, and gold coins. When they approached Rotgar's table however, he paid little attention and continued to eat his chicken.

"Oi guvnor, put your meat in my bag." Suddenly the bandit blushed "I mean... just give me everything you have!"

"Friends! Lowlifes! Please!" Rhea stood up with her arms held wide "How about a drinking game?"

Cleese approaches the table, raising his eyebrows at the trio "Are you mad or something? We are robbing you."

"Why not make it fun for both of us?" Rhea hands him a mug of ale "First one to down their pint gets a map to the mayors house and his belongings!"

All the bandits cheered. Cleese sighed and agreed to the game, if not for him then for the desperate affection of his men. He clinked his mug and started drinking.

"Try not to get hammered." Malcom laughed

"Why would you say th-" Cleese asked before receiving Rotgar's horse-sized iron hammer. The weapon forced the mug out the other end of Cleese's head.

"Bar fight!"

The tavern turned into a battlefield. Bandits were pinned down by flying mugs. Drunk patrons started punching one another. Malcom tried to kiss Greta the barmaid and ended up losing an eye.

Rotgar enjoyed this. This was what he knew for most of his life. Drink, beat, *censored*, repeat. He hoped he could get to the *censored*ting part soon, because the honeyed chicken was wrecking havoc on his bowel movements.

"Rotgar, kick his bloody ass!" Rhea pushed one of the bandits his way

Licking the remains out of his cup, Rotgar set it down and swung his mighty war hammer once more. Like a fist squashing a tomato, the bandit went splat as his juices fell out of his skin.

Before long the short man had driven the rest of the bandits from the tavern, leaving behind a cheering crowd and a sulky bard who had his feelings hurt from having his song ruined.

"For alcohol!" Rotgar roared and the crowd roared back at him

He ripped the top off of a nearby keg and soaked his mouth in its fruity flavors. Soon enough he was sleeping soundly on a dead body.

"What the heck happened here!" Nigel, a mercenary for the nobility in the area, shouted "Rotgar? You again?!"

The dwarf likened the opening of his dehydrated eyes as to pulling a rake through sand.

"Five more minutes mum. I have the belly aches." He snored

"Lady Susan will be most displeased about this!" Nigel grabbed the short man by his pants "I'm taking you to her for punishment! And for goodness sakes, get some clean trousers!" He turned to his companions "We shall see what she has in store for you and your companions."

Vio Battalion Hazard: Prologue (Written by Vio)

A gentle breeze blows through the trees in a forest as the sound of horse hooves snap twigs on the soft dirt trail. The gentle motion of the horse sways its riders forward and backward repetitively. Vio guides the horse through the trail while his daughter, Alice, sits in front of him, nodding off to sleep while they are tied together by the waist to prevent her from falling. The two are wearing brown cloaks over their shoulders and bodies for warmth, as Vio had planned to travel early in the morning from camp.

The morning light glistens off the dew from patches of grass and leafs as Vio nearly finishes his journey back home after finishing his Ranger mission. From the distance he can hear other horses neighing near his home and assumes people are waiting at his wooden house. Isolated but far from civilization, Vio’s home is located South-West of the island close the coast of the ocean.

As Vio comes to sight of his home, he sees and recognizes the horses waiting outside. There’s a pure gray horse and a white with brown spotted horse, one belonging to The Commander of The Rangers. It’s not rare for The Commander to pay a visit after a mission, but this is the first time The Commander has brought someone to his home.

Vio approaches the other horses and unties himself from his daughter. He gets off the horse while having his right hand on his sleeping daughter to keep her steady. He picks her up and holds her in front of him with his right hand as he tries to tie the rope on the horse to fence with his left hand. Vio struggle to get a secure knot with only one hand, but his attention soon is shift to his front door as he hears the door open.

“I can get that for you, Vio,” said the woman, “The Commander is waiting for you inside.” It’s Maia M. Folken, another Ranger who’s been with the organization for 7 years, more experienced the Vio. She stands taller than Vio at 6’3” with her athletic body and caramel tanned skin. Originally, Maia has natural light ash brown hair, but due to her long travels across the world, her hair had been bleached into light ash blonde. Wearing her usual off-duty outfit, leather corset with straps around the neck, red pants, and leather boots, Maia approaches Vio and takes the rope from his hands.

“Thanks, Maia.” says Vio.

“Oh, don’t thank me just yet,” Maia responded with a grin, “Just you wait until you hear what The Commander has to day.”

Vio is puzzled as to what The Commander wants.

Vio Makes his way to his front door and turns the doorknob with his free hand. Inside the home mainly consist of simple objects and needs as Vio’s work requires him to travel constantly; a table, 2 chairs, 2 beds, 3 windows and 4 rooms. Vio steps into his house as he sees The Commander in the kitchen making tea with his back turned towards Vio.

The Commander, an honorary title for those who’ve served all 20 years of their contract, is the 12th man in Ranger’s history to gain the title. A man in his late 50’s with white strands starting to appear from his short black hair and facial hair has notable scars around his arms and face. The Commander comes from a generation of Rangers with a notion of scars being badges of honor, a sense of loyalty and hardness. However, that has caused the average lifespan of a Ranger to last for 3 to 4 years. A Ranger without badges had been seen as a shield that never tasted combat.

While The Commander is prepping the tea, Vio makes his way towards Alice’s bed and lays her down. He tucks her in as the sounds of The Commander’s feet begin to move. Vio turns toward the noise to face The Commander and sees two cups of tea in his hands. The Commander shows an expressionless face while offering the tea in his right hand to Vio.

“Thank you, Commander.” says Vio.

  “Let’s talk outside,” says The Commander, “We have much to discuss and I wish for your daughter to rest.”

They make their way to the front door and outside as Vio sees Maia waiting by the horses. They proceed towards her as The Commander takes a sip from his tea.

“How did the mission go, Vio?” asked The Commander.

“The mission was what you would suspect it would be,” replied Vio as he takes a quick sip from his tea, “The guy was the usually soldier who abandoned his duty and tried to escape into enemies hands. It took about 11 days to find and retrieve him alive for him to face his crime.”

“So, nothing special?” Mia asked.


The Commander takes another sip from his tea before speaking. “That’s good to hear, Vio. However, Maia and I are not here for chit-chat about your mission this time.”

Vio appears slightly confused as The Commander doesn’t talk about anything else other than the missions Vio does when they are at his house.

“Commander,” says Vio, “was there anything that I’ve missed while on mission?”

The Commander walks towards Vio’s steps and puts down his cup. “You’ve might not have heard the news as to what’s been going on.” The Commander turns back and stands next to Maia

“The ocean water has been rising all over the world for a month now and has begun to cause flooding in towns and cities.” says The Commander.

“What?” replied Vio.

“You didn’t notice it because your mission took you inland,” explained Maia, “But this *censored* is causing people to leave our island before the ocean swallows it.”

“Why is the ocean rising?” asked Vio, “Do we know the cause of this?”

“Unfortunately, no.” replied The Commander. Vio begins to put his cup next to The Commander’s cup as he continues to speak. “That is why Maia and I are here for, and it will be the two of you who will help out in discovering the cause.”

Vio crosses his arms together. “Why are we, ‘Rangers who hunt people down,’ are being deployed to solve this issue?”

“It was not my decision to make, Vio.” said The Commander, “It was the Queen.”

“The Queen holds no power over us!” Vio replies in an angry tone.

“No, but she does hold power over you and Maia as of tomorrow.”

“Don’t tell me...”

“The Queen asked for those to aid her in a form of a Fellowship and request that we offer two of our own people or face consequences. As of tomorrow, you and Maia will be hold by and loyal to the Queen as she is now the owner of your contracts.”

“HELL NO!” yells Vio, “You God damn know, full well, that I only joined the Ranger for the sake of my daughter. And you have the gull to pull me into this mess?!”

“I didn’t have a choice, Vio.” says The Commander.

“Like hell you did.”

“Both you and Maia are my only available Rangers I have. Everyone else is either on mission or has abandoned their contracts due to this situation.”

“I still don’t believe this.” says Vio as he shakes his head.

“Believe it or not, we still need to obey our orders.” says Maia.

The Commander makes his way to his gray horse and unties the rope. “For now you are to rest and build up supplies for your journey to the capital tomorrow.” says The Commander, “Maia will be staying here for the night to both aid and watch over you until both of you have arrived to the capital.”

The Commander begins to turn his horse around and stops next to Vio. “Once you’ve reach the capital, you will no longer be an official Rangers until this issue has been dealt with.” His horse begins to walk down the trail. “I wish both of you luck.”

Evegeny (Written by Grimmjager)

In a city burning under flames, countless persons had lose their lives, their country had fallen under a small group of M7s, their leader, Evegeny walked toward a terrified family of humans...

"..." Evegeny looked at them with disdain and gazed at an M7 soldier.

"Should we execute thoses humans, Sir?" The soldier had a vicious smile on his face.

"..." Evegeny did not bother answering the obvious, he walked past them as the soldier took out his weaponary.


"...*sigh*" The M7 leader raised his hand as an order to stop. "Tell me, how can you be of any use to us?" He asked with his soft and cold voice.

"W-We can do your laundry, food and other little details you want, besides my wife is good at all those things!"

"..." Evegeny turned around to face the father of the family, after a minute or so, he directed his cold blue eyes on his subbordinate. "Spare the female and kill the rest..."

"W-WAIT!!" Screamed the man who had sealed his and his daughter's fate but, Evegeny walked away.

The war started months ago, when an M7 family had been slauthered by a group of humans, Evegeny was powerless at that time, he had relieved what happened to his family yet another time, he was taken in by a scientist name Chadek and had find happiness once more but, that scientist he grew fond of was accused of treason and was taken away by the royal guards...

Evegeny kept remembering his past, when one of his subbordinates came running to him, terrified.


"...!" Evegeny ran as fast as he could but, he arrived too late, his commrades were all dead and royal army didn't seem tired in the least.

One of the royal guard army turned and was able to see Evegeny. "Commander, two M7 piece of trash are still alive."

"Keep this one alive..." Their leader pointed his finger at Evegeny.

The RGA rushed and attacked Evegeny, his subbordinate was grope and was taken away, out of his field of vision. The RGA leader approached him and whispered. "I wouldn't want to kill the scientist Chadek's precious M7, right?"

"...!?" Evegeny had been surprised by the statement made.

"You will soon be my subbordinate, Evegeny..."

Ulrica (Written by Low, Green and Co.)

Archibald Berthold (Written by Fortis Scriptor)

Dante Gato Alghieri (Written by Mafio55565)

Sunken~~~~~ By Green and Minzy. Special thanks to Lego, Grimmjager and Vio for help~

Check the story thread here-,18351.msg283907/topicseen.html#msg283907

Decades ago a great wall of ice appeared to the East and West of The Continent, cutting it off from the outside world. This caused an additional fifth season to occur in the year, known as Tempest where wild winds, savage storms and wicked winters would take its toll on sentient beings.

The people survived however, putting aside their differences and strengthened relations across many countries. No major wars have occurred since this period. A golden age blossomed and the medieval ages looked about to end…

That was until The Continent started sinking. The sea claimed many coastal cities and towns, many migrated inwards, famine and disorder was on the rise. The Kingdom of Albania, being an island nation, suffered especially. Its ruler, Queen Erith, has thus declared a Fellowship for any skilled person to take part in. A quest to save the known world from destruction. A journey in which you are interested in…

So Sunken is a Medieval-Fantasy Roleplay where you create a character who joins the Fellowship in order to stop the Continent from sinking. You will create a character from several races, backgrounds, classes and skills, and travel the lands either alone, with allies or with certain factions. You'll take part in quests, disputes, marriages, wars, games and more as an open world evolves with your decisions.

Gameplay will be heavily based on dialogue, travelling, decision making, equipment organisation, tactical battles and colourful character display. It'll be along the lines of PG-15 roughly, with violence, language, dark themes and sometimes crude humour.

If you wish to take part, just leave a post here and I'll send details and a character creation sheet along with it. Once enough people have joined, we'll progress through PM and Chatstep similar to how Vio's current Roleplay is going. I'll then post the story so far on a separate thread. If you have questions, feel free to post below!

I hope you will find this as fun as I do!


FAQ (Check this for questions you have first before asking me)

How does combat and dialogue work?
Social wise it's about figuring a character out and determining their interests vs. Yours, with bonus points to playing a colourful but not overpowered character. Most quests will be determined on how you interact and respond to NPCs; solving arguments, offering deals, negotiating rewards, etc. Notably if you gain favour with certain factions, they might give you access to unique equipment and offers...

Combat wise it's about tactics; say you go up against a heavily armoured knight but you're weak in combat, thus it'd be smarter to tire the enemy out by blocking and dodging, then attack when they're vulnerable from exhaustion.
This will be down through action and response. When combat is engaged, one individual will engage in an action, in which the other individual responds. Depending on their choice and stats, an outcome will result either in damage, counter-attacking, or something else. Thus combat is more focused on determining what the weakness of your foe is and thus exploiting it.

How does the Health System work?
Your character will have one of the several statuses listed from high health to low; Vigorous, Normal, Wounded, Severely Injured, Passed Out, and Deceased.
All characters will start at Normal. Damage will reduce this and can be gained through combat or certain events. Taking damage to an armoured part of the body will earn you a Graze Token. If you get three Graze Tokens or take damage to an unarmored body part, you'll go down a level in Health Status.
The Vigorous status is a sort of boost to a character's health that can only be gained at Normal status and through Potions, Visiting a Brothel, Eating a Feast (with no damage modifiers), or certain other special events.
To cure a Graze, you must either eat a snack for one Graze or a Meal for two Grazes, or rest in a tavern, brothel or medical facility.
The wounded status is similar to normal, but the difference is that you're bleeding with an open wound. When outside of combat, you'll need to stop the bleeding- otherwise travelling to a new location will give you a Graze Token. To get back to Normal Status, you must eat a Hearty Meal, use a potion or rest at a tavern or medical facility.
The Severely Injured status is similar to wounded, but it will also halve your combat stats, impede movement and make you vulnerable in combat. To get back to normal status, you must visit a medical facility or specialist.
The Passed out status means you can't do anything. A player, NPC or even a wild animal can do what they want with you, leaving your fate in their hands.
Deceased status means the character is no longer playable.

How does travel and food work?
In each player's equipment they'll have an amount of ration units. To travel around the map, they need a certain amount of ration units for the length of travel. Depending on their skills and the party they are travelling with, the consumption of rations can change.
A player and basic NPCs consume 1 unit of rations each for ten miles.
Soldiers, skilled NPCs and wounded people consume 2 units for ten miles.
Nobility and royalty consume 3 units for ten miles.
You can't travel unless you have the required amount of rations. Certain events can change the ration consumption, such as weather, transportation, enemies, and such. Ask the Gamemaster just before you travel to see how much rations you might consume.

How does the stats system work?
Stats are more a representaiton of character rather than being used as part of a system. If a situation happens relating to a stat, your score will be considered into how the situation affects you but it's not strictly hard-coded.

Stats: (38 Points to spend plus extra points depending on race. For the first five categories, above 5 points is considered good in that skill, below 5 is considered disadvantaged in that skill.)
Strength: (Affects force behind melee attacks, threatening people, and physical tasks.)
Endurance: (Affects stamina, access to heavy equipment, physical resistance, and physical tasks.)
Perception: (Affects ability to determine lies, observe the enviroment and ranged attack accuracy.)
Cunning: (Affects ability to persuade others, chances of success at certain games, and lowers bribe costs.)
Dexterity: (Affects ability to handle tools, ranged attack damage, and move about in combat. Limited by heavy armour.)
Magic: (For Gypi's only. Affects strength and skill with magic skills.)
Willpower: (Ability to resist magic and mind-affecting abilities. Allows Gypi's to recover faster from failed spells.)

How does the map work?
Overall Map: (Goal is to reach the bottom)

The overall map is split into several stages. The player's overall goal is to progress to the next stage to get closer to the End Quest. This is achieved by completing certain main quest plot lines that will allow access to the next stage. An example of the First Stage (Unfinished):

What Races are available to play as?
-Plain and simple, you are a human of varying height, ethnicity, sexuality, gender, and shape.

-Around five foot in height, Neko's are viewed as second class citizens by society. Their tolerance to diseases means they can be unknowing hosts to plagues. Their short life spans make them useless in academic fields. Their mating behaviours cause over population problems. They are notoriously dexterous and quick thinking however, making them turn to crime as career. They all have animal ears and tails, but vary in fur colour and density.

Cog M7
-Invented in the Southern Merchant Republics, Cogs are mechanical beings inhabited with the souls of newborns. Once emotionally mature, they can serve physically demanding roles that humans can't fulfil. M7's are the most common design, though are being phased out by M8s. M7s are very similar to humans, but more durable, though they can be paralysed by rain or water, and need special crystals to power themselves.

-Under four foot in height, these winged creatures resemble pixies. They are very mysterious beings who specialise in magic and administration, though are very fragile and arrogant in their work. They often believe in specialising in only one thing on their life and look down on other races. Their spells often require sacrifices to work...

What are things that I should not do?
When starting combat or currently attacking in combat, do not write an action which doesn't allow another individual to respond;
"I shall charge and thrust my dagger into the neck of my opponent."
Because you're assuming the weapon automatically hit the opponent, it takes away control from them and the Game Master. Instead it's better to write "I will charge and prepare to stab my dagger towards the neck of my opponent."
From this it allows everyone and the Game Master to assess the situation and stats, whilst letting the opponent respond. They can try to dodge but if the Game Master determines they fail that, you thus proceed and wound the opponent.

Don't be too overpowered. The Game Masters respond better to characters who are colourful and willing to act flawed, rather than characters who try to act perfect and above everyone else.

How do NPCs and Party Member work?
Throughout the Roleplay, most people you'll encounter will be other Players or NPCs. Players can communicate to one another freely, though how open they are with their information may be end up being used against them! The players Low and Abe have chosen to keep their identities hidden, so if you wish to contact them, message through me instead.
NPCs can be interacted with like other players, though they'll most likely stick to their own routine (A bartender will stay in a bar, a guard will stay at his assigned location, etc.). You can talk, gain information, possibly recieve quests, and fight (Though if it's unwarranted, you risk your status as a Fellowship member, once that's gone then you'll be hunted by all factions!). Some NPCs will be more important than others; this will be obvious from their involvement in the story though you can ask a Gamemaster is you're unsure. Certain NPCs can become Party Members under unique conditions such as; marriage, payment, quests, or association with certain factions or ideologies. Once an NPC or another Player joins your party, you can travel around and have their involvment in your quests, though their methods are up to the Gamemaster (It might not be wise to bring a pickpocket to a fistfight!).

What if a Player is in my party, but he's inactive?
Due to different timezones and lives outside of MR, there is a chance this could happen. Therefore when merging into a party with another player, you should consider whether to trust other players to use your character or put the character in standby mode.

How does magic work?
Magic can only be used by the Gypi race. Essentially magic in this world falls into two categories; manipulation and conversion. Manipulating is the moving of a substance that a Gypi has trained in (A Gypi trained in the fire element can move and shape it about to their benefit), this causes a great strain on their bodies and minds, thus causing the player to recieve a graze token.
Conversion is how a Gypi can make their substance appear. This allows them to adapt to situations where their substance might be helpful (Creating a fire to burn a ship or water to put out a fire). Doing this requires them to have something to convert- since the magic Gypi uses doesn't make matter appear, but only converts it. A fire user would convert wood into a massive fireball, a water user would convert the moisture in a plant into a wave of water. Doing this will give the player a graze token.

Current Game Masters:

Current Players:
Character Status
Name: Aporia Nyx
Class: Mercenary
Race: Human
Current Health: Normal
Current Quest: N/A
Current Party: N/A
Current Location: N/A
Legal Status: N/A
Character Status
Name: Vio Battalion Hazard
Class: Ranger
Race: Human
Current Health: Normal
Current Quest: N/A
Current Party: Alice Hazard (Daughter)
Current Location: N/A
Legal Status: Signed 20 years of his life away to Ranger Service.
Character Status
Name: Rotgar Ironhammer
Class: Hedge Knight
Race: Human
Current Health: Normal
Current Quest: N/A
Current Party: N/A
Current Location: N/A
Legal Status: N/A
-Fortis Scriptor
Character Status
Name: Archibald Berthold
Class: Ex-Soldier
Race: Human
Current Health: Normal
Current Quest: N/A
Current Party: Lady Amira
Current Location:N/A
Legal Status:N/A
Character Status
Name: Dante Gato Alghieri
Class: Scout
Race: Neko
Current Health: Normal
Current Quest: N/A
Current Party: N/A
Current Location: N/A
Legal Status: N/A
Character Status
Name: Ulrica Heidrich
Class: Mercenary
Race: Gypi (Water class)
Current Health: Normal
Current Quest: N/A
Current Party: N/A
Current Location: N/A
Legal Status: N/A
Character Status
Name: Evegeny
Class: Ex-Soldier
Race: Cog
Current Health: Normal
Current Quest: N/A
Current Party: N/A
Current Location: N/A
Legal Status: N/A

Develop Your Story / Autumn Sample
« on: May 02, 2017, 01:37:29 PM »
As promised, here is my attempt at writing in prose. It's from a larger work that I'm doing for my University Masters application. I have artwork included to aid the, uh, digestion of my subpar skills. Anyways, here's some paragraphs from my story: Autumn.

Mabyn (Female, around 17 years old)

Jericho (Female, nearly 30 years old)


In a world where a class of super-humans rule over normal and mutant folk alike, one noble family tries to take a different path.

--------------Chapter Sample------------

Mabyn was always curious about the streets of Rathlin City.

She had been born a Noble, within the walls of her Lord father's Keep, not over five minutes away from where she now stood. There it had well-dressed humans, clean and professional, who would either work with the luxury of electronic technology or seek an audience with the council. All under the watchful eyes of guards patrolling the walls.

Outside the keep's walls was different. It was a primitive yet lively area, nearly three miles of human sprawl over the bend of the Galloping River. All contained within sturdily built walls 30 feet high on both sides of the river. It smelled of summer-work sweat and manure. There were no electric-systems here, only people of rustic fashion; both Human and Demi alike. These were stubborn buildings that rarely went over two stories, some still bearing scars from the Second Great War twenty years ago. Here market stalls cramped the pavements while packed caravans and horses kicked up dust along the pinched roads. This was too claustrophobic for the Young-Lady of Rathlin, who was now acting regent in the absence of her Lord father and elder siblings.

And of course her bodyguard was only half a step behind. Whenever Mabyn took leave of the Keep, a quick moment was all Jericho needed to arm up and follow.

Her thrust into regency had been a rushed affair, having been declared so within the pantheon of Rathlin Keep. She was a believer in the Green Mother and her descendants, like most nobles of her status. To say otherwise would warrant a clip round the ear from her tutors.

"My Lady?" Jericho would prompt every time Mabyn browsed a stall. She kept one armored hand on her sword belt. Her sharp amber eyes fixated on anyone within arms reach. Mabyn was anxious of the space everyone gave them as a result.

"For the fifth time Jericho, I'm just having a look." Mabyn rolled her eyes "Don't make me send you back to the keep."

Mabyn could see that her bodyguard was not happy with that. "You stare at those trinkets for so long. It's off putting."

The teenager shrugged. "I find markets interesting." Mabyn could see the tightness of Jericho's mouth.

"I wish you found taverns interesting. They would be better places to stand idle whilst you fascinate over the mundane." Jericho said. The two went onto the road again and strolled further away from the Keep.

You wouldn't understand, she thought to herself. Raised to have the national treasury as her own wallet made her current environment almost foreign. She wondered why people would haggle over a set price. Could they not afford it in the first place? If saving a few silvers meant that much, it says a lot at the gap in wealth between her and a normal family. It wasn't as if Mabyn had the best role models to look up to. Her father rarely had time for family matters, mother had been away eight months for a diplomatic mission, Ariadne was indulgent and excessive as regent, and Pyrrhus's dyslexia put him off statesmanship. Tutor Grenlow would have been too stubborn to change the weekly subject to economics. Now that Mabyn was Lady-Regent though, she had the power to follow up on her curiosity.

Mabyn was beginning to enjoy the strangeness of the markets. The further she travelled, the stranger and more primitive it became. The sweet aromas of colorful, scented soaps were replaced with the pungent tang of animal waste fertilizer. Articulated transactions turned into boisterous banter. Wealthy travelers, merchants and politicians soon became hardy men and women clad in leather. She even spotted the odd Demi-Human minding their way through their taller brethren.

Turning a corner, the pair came upon a mustached candy merchant offering pieces of different shapes in paper wrappers to passerbys. "Toffees! Caramels! Red Sugars!" He bellowed in an accent Mabyn never heard before. When she crossed his stall, the stout man gasped and tipped his colorful hat. "'Tis an honour to be in your presence ma'am."

Jericho grunted at the display, but Mabyn smiled and asked, "You know my language?"

"But of course! Being multilingual is important to a successful merchant. I can speak Anglo just like you, but I can go Latina for the commoners, and perhaps Mandari for a rare tourist." He licked his swollen lips before continuing "Might I offer the ma'am a candy? I bring most my stock from the Silver Isles."

Without a second thought Mabyn agreed and reached out for a sample. It wasn't until her fingers had reached her lips that Jericho had swiped her treat from her grasp to inspect it.

"Give it back." Mabyn whined, she tiptoed to poke a finger at the silver-haired woman's cheek.

The bodyguard did not respond to the action. Instead she unwrapped the sample, it was a rectangle of dark chocolate, soft from the hot weather. Jericho popped it into her mouth whilst the candy merchant rubbed his hands together in anticipation. Her stone-set features made no indication towards either pleasure or pain.

"It's not poisoned." Jericho nodded, as if she was doing Mabyn a favour.

"Of course it's not poisoned. Why on earth would someone poison me through a traveling merchant?" The young regent scowled.

The candy merchant, though amused by the two, took the chance to apply some oil to his thin mustache. "I don't take my job lightly," Jericho lectured, shaking her head "If I have to eat every meal you come across, that's a burden I'll carry."

"You're just greedy!"


Mabyn gave up arguing after a few minutes. She could see the merchant struggling to sustain his forced smile. They paid him for a box of chocolates and continued on their way. He would not be the only merchant who would approach them in such a manner however. A toothless nanny offered a bowl of soup. A Demi-human, Mabyn had assumed a swamp-folk, gave away a wooden doll. A suited man nearly trapped the teen into a free trial for house-insurance but Jericho sent him fleeing with a bloodied knuckle. She was used to getting what she wanted. The national treasury is my own wallet. She had told herself many times before. Why is it that I'm receiving these gifts for free. In a market of all places.

The question was passed onto Jericho. "Not many shops can boast a visit from nobility, let alone the current ruler of nation they live in." Jericho might have come into her father's service less than three years ago, but Mabyn knew she was exceptionally observant. She seemed to understand people almost upon greeting. "Its advertising at the end of the day. Give the rich girl something, get several fascinated customers in return. A lady and a lord may rule and be cruel, but the common-folk will still always be fascinated with your kind."

Mabyn had a sausage in each hand when Jericho finished. One pork, the other beef, they had been gifted to her by an elderly farmer from his meat stall. "I see," Mabyn chewed "I'm not complaining."

A strange sound suddenly came to her ears.

Scritch. Scratch. Scritch. Scratch.

Voices and footsteps melted away as Mabyn focused her hearing.

Scritch. Scratch. Scribble.

She could feel the eyes of a nearby boy on her. He was sat outside an inn, The Wild Mare, holding a thick wad of paper stained with graphite finger prints. The movements of his hand suggested he was drawing rather than writing.

"Excuse me, might I ask what you are doing?" Mabyn asked, though the boy simply blinked and carried working.

Jericho pointed a finger "Boy, your Lady-regent is asking a question."

The same lack of response almost had the bodyguard reaching for her sheathe, but the boy perked up, "Finished." He turned the pad towards the pair, earning draws of sharp breath at the level of accuracy and detail the portrait revealed. "Does My Lady approve?"

"I do!" Mabyn nodded "Can I have it?"

The boys yellow teeth formed a grin "Of course. For five silvers."

Fingers fumbling in her purse, Mabyn offered the coins but Jericho gently held her arm still. "You dare charge such a price for your work? That's ten decent meals we could have for five S-." Mabyn responded by butting her head into the taller woman's side, causing Jericho to bite her tongue. "M-my lady?"

"Can't you see he's the only honest trader in the street?" Her eyes narrowed on the guard "Whilst the other merchants fill their purses on my assumed patronage, he offers me a work of art that isn't to be consumed in a day but looked upon for years." She turned to the boy, warmth returning to her smile "For five silvers, this is an honest transaction."

The youth carefully removed the drawing from his pad, wrote something swiftly on the reverse then rolled it neatly into a scroll which he secured with a piece of coloured ribbon from a bunch threaded through his buttonhole. Mabyn asked if he had just signed it.

"It is a riddle, My Lady. If you could solve it then you will learn the details of how to find me if you ever require my services in the future."

And with the most outrageous wink she had ever encountered, he turned on his heel and was soon lost in the crowd. As she rejoined Jericho, Mabyn's smile was the perfect foil for the other's deepening scowl.


Develop Your Story / Be Afraid
« on: April 19, 2017, 04:25:01 PM »
This is a sample piece from my Playwriting course. The task was to write a 5-10 minute script about a topic you've seen in the news. Only rules were to keep stage directions and cast as small as possible.

You could use this to assess what kind of writer I am I suppose. Uh, or enjoy it if your just a casual reader. I intend to write in novel form soon, once I understand how things work here. Otherwise, here we go:



Reporter James Broody (Typical News Reporter Accent, Compulsive Liar, Arrogant) Act 1,2 and 3

Camera Man Cameron (Pathetic Yes-man) Act 1,2 and 3

Lilly Ji-won (First-Generation Immigrant, Best Friends with Becca) Act 1 and 3

Becca Hughes (Pregnant with First Child, Has Worked Hard for Most of Life) Act 1 and 3

Scott Simpson (Naïve yet Easily Misled Husband to Sandra, Very Middle Class) Act 2 and 3

Sandra Simpson (Easily Misled yet Naïve Wife to Scott, Very Middle Class) Act 2 and 3




[Lilly and a pregnant Becca are walking through the park. Lilly is helping Becca with her shopping.]

Becca: Sorry Lilly, I just need to sit down for a minute.

Lilly: Of course. Is everything okay?

Becca: The baby is kicking a bit. It’s nothing to worry about. I just want to wait till it passes.

Lilly: Oh Becca, It must be a pain trying to sleep when he does that.

Becca: To be honest with you, I’d more worried if he didn’t kick! This might be uncomfortable but at least I know my little angel is alright.

Lilly: That’s a good way to think about it.

Becca: Thank you. Would you like to feel him kick?

Lilly: If that’s okay?

Becca: Of course! Little Benjamin needs to know who his mum’s friends will be.

Lilly: Oh! I felt it!

[Both Laugh]

Lilly: Have you planned out your maternity leave yet?

Becca: It’s difficult, because I work with a small coffee shop. They can only afford unpaid maternity leave.

Lilly: Can’t you get a maternity allowance?

Becca: All that money is going straight to little Benjamin! However, I’ve been really tight with my money and with the Housing Benefit I’m getting. I have just enough to look after myself. My aunt and uncle also said they’d pop round to help me out.

Lilly: Thank goodness. I’m also happy to lend a hand when I’m not working.

[James and Cameron enters. Cameron is aiming his equipment at the couple whilst James faces the audience]

James: This just in: benefit fraud amongst the working classes? I’m your host James Broody and tonight, we’ll be discussing the problems affecting British Society. [Whispers] Uh, Cameron. Get a zoom on the foreign lady.

Cameron: Definitely, I’ve got a good angle.

James: Good. [Clears throat] It also seems that immigrants from outside of Britain are abusing the system too. As we can see from this live footage, these two women are happy at their apparent crime. The tax-paying, native Brits have being swindled of their hard earned money.




[Scott and Sandra are watching television in their living room. They have just watched ACT 1 as if it was broadcast on the television.]

Scott: Oh great, happening again.

Sandra: And nothing is being done to fix it.

Scott: Terrible.

Sandra: Dreadful.

Scott: It’s just…

Sandra: Absolutely…

Scott: Positively…

Sandra: Most unreasonably…

Scott: Unreasonable!

Sandra: I already said unreasonable, dearest.

Scott: Sorry, sweetie.

Sandra: It’s okay, love.

Scott: Thank you, sugar.

Sandra: But then again, I think we must consider.

Scott: Consider?

Sandra: A rotten apple doesn’t spoil the tree.

Scott: You’re right, let’s get some apples.

Sandra: No silly. I mean just because we saw that bit of bad business on the TV, it doesn’t mean everyone of a different ethnic background and in a lower financial position are bad people.

Scott: That is true, we can’t be too judgmental.

Sandra: Not at all.

Scott: Let’s do something nice.

Sandra: Yes, lets.

Scott: How about we go through our wardrobes and donate our old clothing to the homeless?

Sandra: Splendid! And then we can bake cakes for the charity fair next week.

Scott: Flawless!

Sandra: Marvelous!

Scott: We’re so kind…

Sandra: And generous…

Scott: And p- Oh *censored*, I just spilt my coffee.

Sandra: Scott, no bad words in front of the poodle.

Scott: Sorry dear, it just went all over my wallet.

Sandra: Is it okay?

Scott: I think so.

Sandra: Open it up.

Scott: My pound notes are all soggy. They are useless now.

Sandra: Oh dear, we’ll have to throw them away then. Such a shame, we could have brought a bigger dog house.

Scott: Such a shame indeed. I’ll just put these in the bin outside.

[James and Cameron enters. Cameron is aiming his equipment at the couple whilst James faces the audience]

James: Breaking News: Do the rich really hate the poor? I’m your host James Broody and tonight, we’ll be discussing the problems affecting British Society. [Whispers] Hey Cameron, get a slow motion of him throwing away that money.

Cameron: Should I get the mic out so we can hear the money hit the bottom of the bin?

James: Do whatever it takes, Cameron. [Clears throat] Showing off their wealth isn’t enough. It seems that the middle classes have taken it a step further and are actively ridiculing the poor. As we can see from this careless disposal of over a hundred pounds, this family didn’t do much to put it in the hands of the homeless. Watch out Brits, these people don’t want you to live a happy life.





[Becca and Lilly are sat in a café listening to the News Station on the radio. They have just heard ACT 2 as if it was broadcast on the radio.]

Becca: Bloody hell, the cheek of some people!

Lilly: It’s unbelievable.

Becca: And to think I serve those exact kind of people at my job. I work hard to give them good service, and this is how they act.

Lilly: Well, I know who I’m voting for in the next election if that’s the attitude they have.

Becca: Thank goodness we have the good old BBC to give us reliable news.

Lilly: And thank goodness we don’t have those type of people where we live!

[The café door rings. Scott and Sandra step through. Lilly and Becca see them as normal people and don’t pay any attention.]

Scott: Oh, this cafe is nice, dear!

Sandra: It was a good suggestion, wasn’t it?

Scott: Indeed!

Sandra: Most agreed!

Scott: A pleasant place.

Sandra: Plenty of space.

Scott: Coffee served quickly at the till.

Sandra: Bacon and egg cooking on the grill.

Scott: Leisurely pace to my- *censored*! I spilt the damn coffee again!

[The coffee spills onto Lilly and Becca’s table]

Becca: Woah, are you okay?

Scott: I’m fine. Sorry about this mess.

Lilly: It’s okay, we’ll clean it up.

Sandra: Oh no, it’s our fault, we’ll clean it.

Becca: Don’t say that, you’ve lost your coffee.

Scott: I can pay for a new one, no big problem.

Lilly: We’ll pay for it. Our bags were in the way.

Sandra: That’s really kind of you, but there’s no need.

Becca: We all have accidents. I’m Becca by the way.

Lilly: I’m Lilly. Nice to meet you.

Scott: This is Sandra…

Sandra: And this is Scott.

[James and Cameron enters. Cameron is aiming his equipment at the group whilst James faces the audience. He is discontent]

James: Boooooooooooring.

Cameron: What’s wrong Mr. Broody?

James: There’s no conflict, just different people getting on and being happy. We can’t report this. It’s bullocks.

Cameron: Should I put a UKIP pamphlet in one of their bags?

James: Yes! And get the special effects department to create a mosque in the background! This will be a hit with the public.

Cameron: Okay. I’ve hidden the UKIP pamphlet with the rich couple.

James: Excellent. Start recording. [Clears Throat] News Flash: UKIP supporters arguing with foreigners in front of a mosque? You better believe it. I’m your host, James Broody.


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