[h2][b]Preface: I broached this idea roughly 9 months ago, and it seemed to gain some little traction. I'm hoping this reboot will spark a greater response[/b][/h2] [b][color=ed1c24][h1]NOVA ROMA - THE LEGION'S VEGAS[/h1][/color] [/b] [h2][b]Introduction:[/b][/h2] [i]War, war never changes... There was once a tale, ancient, even to the old world, told of a great being named Prometheus. Taking pitty on man, he stole fire from the heavens, his gift to a shivering, helpless creature, stumbling, frozen in the dark, sequestered among the littered bones of long dead ancestors who had been birthed and returned to dust, too afraid to reach from the cradle to a gloomy world Prometheus felt they ought to see. Was he wrong? With fire, resplendent and scorching, both, many descendants of that one enlightened soul were filled with a feral awe, a love for a world indifferent from them, independent and mechanical, a need for they, those that could comprehend and contrive, to belong to nature, to understand its secrets. This hunger to know a world illuminated by the torch lead many to straddle seas they had once fled, to pierce the sky they'd once thought endless and find a vacuous expanse, an eternal void into which they could forever flee the darkness of that cavernous, rocky cradle. The light of the fire illuminated what was best in man, too. But what fire illuminates, it also raises to the ground. And if fire's light brought out man's inquisitive spirit, then fire's heat gave spark to kindling laid long before warhead met missile, and atomic fire ensnared the earth. Millennia before the Great War, one tribe among the fractured millions humanity had banded into, understood this. To history, they were the Romans. They, above all other, encompassed the duality of the torch. With its light they built great wonders, exorbitant highways ran high above the ground they'd long graduated from, ferrying whole rivers of untainted water to their always quenched citizens. Drains sucked waste from their immaculate roads, and the people breathed the good air that the fire's promise finally birthed. But all this came at a cost. With fire's heat, Rome razed whole cities to the ground, cornered the tribes that had once peacefully encircled them, and carted them off in chains, branded with scalding metal, to be absorbed into the monolith - Rome's machine. Rome was the solution to a problem the world burned before it could discover. At least, that is what the new Caesar believes. The world might not have died, had Rome, the torch-bearer, been allowed to succeed in its quest, to remake the world in its image, and its image alone. Nations, like the tribes Rome once obliterated, scrapped over resources each citizen believed it was their duty to hoard for their own motherland. That was the kindling, and when the heat of the fire man had been stacking for centuries became too great, the kindling took the spark, and the world was cleansed. Caesar will not allow this to happen again. It has now been three months since Hoover Dam was won by his Legion. Flags and crucifixes both line the tattered stilts of the highways leading up to New Vegas, his new Rome. And like the old world should have learned, all inside must be remade in the Legion's image, or be cut out at the root... Because war, war never changes....[/i] [h2][b]What is this RP?[/b][/h2] Nova Roma - The Legion's Vegas is a settlement RP based on the 2010 video game Fallout New Vegas, in which participants will take up roles as members of the new society growing up around New Vegas after its conquest by the Legion. The Legion, for those of you interested by my intro but unfamiliar with Fallout (which would be a surprise), is a post apocalyptic society, created by Edward Sallow, one of the few remaining scholars, modelled aesthetically on Ancient Rome, which follows the philosophies of Utilitarianism, and, in effect, National Socialism (which I detest, just in case anyone was wondering). It follows the latter, partly out of Sallow's, who now styles himself as Caesar, egotism causing him to create a cult of personality around himself, and partly because Sallow believes National identities, or tribal identities as they have regressed to in post nuclear Nevada, where the game is set (duh, it's got Vegas in the title), and their inevitable conflict, is what lead to nuclear war (which is pretty sound logic). Therefore, he intends to replace the tribal identities, and the only national identity left in the wasteland, the (New) Californian Republic, with a monolithic culture based on Rome and lead by him. In this RP, he has won the central conflict of the video game Fallout New Vegas, the battle of Hoover Dam, and now possesses both the ruins of New Vegas, and the dam as a source of power. It will be your job, as a potential participant, to take on the role of a member of this society, either helping or hindering its progress. We will be following the Settlement Roleplay structure. You can make your character a humble slave, forced to participate in the many building projects that will be going on around town. You could play as a merchant (of slaves, if you want), either a member of the legion, or one of the few independents. You could play as a lifer in the legion (they absorb tribes, and raise the young as combatants) or a new recruit. You could play as a displaced citizen, or anything you can imagine, within reason. [h2][b]Rules/requirements:[/b][/h2] These forums already give pretty good guidelines as to what to expect. I have put this in the casual section because I want it tobe laid back and fun. I don't care how often you post, however, I do ask that when you do, you try to keep your writing neat, well formatted, easy to follow, and longer than one paragraph, unless engaged in conversation with another player. I don't quality control the RP - so don't be shy if you're self conscious about your writing (we all are, and you're probably pretty good), just have fun. However, since this RP is about a monolith culture, try to avoid putting things like "social recluse", "nervous", "introverted" etc. in your CS personality section, if you're playing a legion character. These personality traits would be weeded out. I'm not saying you can't play a damaged character (they're all probably pretty f***ed up anyway), but they shouldn't openly display it, nor should things like social acceptance be primary motivation. This is a cliché I've seen in RPing, but if it's unique to my experiences, sorry for the ranty addendum. [h2][b]Character Sheet Template:[/b][/h2] [hider=My Hider] Name: Age: Gender: M/F (The legion enforces gender roles, so you have to be M/F. I know someone would have tried something else otherwise, this is the Internet) Appearance: Personality: Backstory: Clothing/Equipment: Weaponry: Role within society: (e.g. Legionnaire,Cook, Builder, Slave-Trader, Trader, Guard, etc.) SPECIAL: (Allocate 40 points. SPECIAL = Strength, Perception, Endurance, Charisma, Intelligence, Agillity and Luck) [/hider] [h2][b]Legion Hierarchy/ Structure: [/b] [/h2] This should help give you some ideas as to where to position your character. [hider=My Hider] [b]Urban Cohort Recruit[/b] - Effectively a guard, they patrol the streets of New Vegas and answer to the Urban Decanus. [b]Urban Decanus[/b] - Lead a group of 10 Urban Cohorts. Answer to the Urban Praetor. [b]Urban Praetor[/b] - A sort of executive officer, the Urban Praetor acts as the governor for the settlement. All [i]Publicans[/i] and [i]Urban Decani[/i] answer to him, and he oversees construction projects as mandated by Caesar, to who, he answers directly. [b]Publican[/b] - A Tax Collector. Can barter, will accept goods, or use force. Citizens of new Vegas are technically being occupied, so some might resist/ actively resent the presence of the Legion (especially women, the Legion enforces reactionary gender roles). [b]Praeco[/b] - The town crier. Since the apocalypse was a nuclear one, and books are flammable, as are schools, most people can't read. The Praeco is the main vector of communication between the people and the [i]Urban Praetor[/i], to who the Praeco answers. [b][u]Regular Military Hierarchy:[/u][/b] The soldiers who won the battle of Hoover Dam answer directly to Caesar through the following command chain. They may be asked to work for the Urban Cohort, though it is possible they resent this. It's up to you. [b]Recruit Legionnaire[/b] - Either recently mature males, or conscripted fighters from conquered tribes, or willing volunteers. [b]Decanus[/b] - Slighlty more experienced. Promoted by merit or popular acclaim, commands 10 men. [b]Centurion[/b] - Highly experienced combatant. Through 10 Decani, commands 100 men. [b]Legatus[/b] - Commands an entire army. Answer directly to Caesar as part of his council. I won't allow Legate characters unless for an exceptional CS. [b]Vexilarius[/b] - Flag bearer. Usually older, above peak fighting age, still capable of holding their own. May have taken this position to demonstrate bravery, due to being a sub-par legionnaire. [b]Caesar Imperator[/b] - Alias Edward Sallow, Caesar invented the Legion and gave it its culture, supposedly having it divinely revealed from the war God Mars (most aren't aware, he learned it from books). Spends most of his time at the top of the Lucky 38. Will likely not appear regularly in the RP, if at all. [b] Pontifex Maximus[/b] High Priest of Mars (in Rome, it was Jupiter). I haven't decided if I want to see the religious features of the legion in the RP since they weren't explored in the game, but I'd be interested to see CS's for this role. [b] Frumentarii [/b] - Frumentarii are the Legion's scouts and spies. They performs number of functions, such as prospect ion, intelligence gathering, espionage, assassination, et al. They answer to Caesar through Vulpes Inculta, their leader. Many might be operating within Vegas' "native" citizenry, and may have been imbedded in society long before the Legion arrived. Act as secret police to sniff out rebellion. [/hider] [b] List of locations in New Vegas:[/b] [hider=My Hider] [b]The Forum - Old Mormon Fort:[/b] - This stone-walled structure has been converted into a market place. In the centre, a circular wooden platform is used to hold slave-auctions, whilst other businesses operate from stalls around the outside. The main building has been converted into the offices for the Urban Praetor. [b]Eastside:[/b] - The Van Graff weapons store, the Atomic Wrangler and their attendant buildings, are currently cordoned off by the Legion whilst it strips the area for useful materials, and ensures the blueprints for van Graff energy weapons do not escape Vegas. Not accessible by the citizenry. [b]The King's School of Impersonation - Legion Barracks:[/b] - The previous tribal occupants, the Kings, beat a bloody retreat from Vegas, with only a few of their members opting to remain with the Legion. Those that did allowed the Legion access to the School's many beds for use as shelter. [b] North Vegas: [/b] - The area between the old Mormon fort and the Vegas Strip, including the rubble which housed the city's drug-addled outcasts, is currently being cleared, with the cement and stone being re-evaluated for use in construction. [b] The Strip/ Campus Martius: [/b] - The Vegas Strip, once protected by House's securitrons, remains barricaded, and garrisoned by the Praetorian Guard. Behind the barricade, Caesar administers to the Legion's interests, attended by his court. The legion leaves and enters by the North gate, which leads out of Vegas. High ranking officials have also taken over several of the buildings on the strip. Suitably, Vulpes Inculta's Frumentarii use the White a Glove society as its base of operations. [b] The Thorn: [/b] The Thorn was an ampitheatre long before the Legion arrived. Headed by Red Lucy, it was a nihilistic, cult-esque group of survivalist who caught and trapped deadly beasts to fight for the amusement of the crowd, promising participants the chance to die of their own volition, for a meaningless pursuit, rather than raging against the hostile wastes. The Legion has adopted the Thorn, using it to stage fights of its own. It is located just outside Vegas' walls. [/hider] [h2][b]List of accepted CS's: [/b][/h2] [hider=TITUS GRACCHUS] [b][color=ed1c24] [h2]TITUS GRACCHUS [/h2][/color][/b] [b][color=ed1c24]Age:[/color][/b] - 37 [b][color=ed1c24]Appearance:[/color][/b] - [hider=My Hider] [img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/76/9e/82/769e8298229a87a11cd2237edf02d726.jpg[/img] [/hider] [b][color=ed1c24]Personality:[/color][/b] - Afflicted with an excruciating, pus-weaping lesion in the right leg,Gracchus has become short tempered and irritable. The veteran legionnaire is prone to erratic and fitful bouts of rage, oftentimes upending tables he had been diligently working at, or striking out at muted guards keeping his watch. Gracchus' near twenty years with the legion have left him bitter and jaded, the enthusiasm and sense of purpose that had been imbued in him at the assimilation of his subsistent tribe reduced to a flicker as the Legion beat a bloody and endless path through the wastes, spilling blood and purchasing nothing with the boon of that sacrifice. However, his nihilism, tempered by his open handedness, perceptiveness, and his enduring capacity of mercy, have left him quietly hopefully that this new project might finally fulfil all the Legion had promised. [b][color=ed1c24]Backstory:[/color][/b] - Like many accomplished Legionnaires, Gracchus met the coming of the Legion as much with quiet, purposeful hope as with revulsion at the loss of his tribe. Truthfully, he had taken some small comfort in huddling around his tribe's campfire, soaking in primitive tales of an old world of excess and of plenty; where men needn't scrape through baked, dusted earth to find sustenance, but were liberated, to have purpose and meaning and consequence. Gracchus found in the Legion, and its virtues of self-sacrifice, service and aversion to slothfulness, a sense of purpose he never could in his Liberty, and threw himself into the legion's brutal training almost with glee. To him, the scrap for survival with his tribe was never freedom, and very soon, he became to see eye-to-eye with Caesar, that the tribes the Legion conquered, destitute as they were, were really being saved by being absorbed into Caesar's war machine. As soon as he was trained, aged, due to his profligate upbringing, twenty-one years old, he begged his superiors to place him under the command of Maxentius, by far the weakest and most bundling of Caesar's Centurions, and one he could easily surpass. After six years in his employ, the Centurion finally stumbled. On campaign in Utah, chasing down a particularly vicious chapter of the 80's tribe, Maxentius lead his column into a snare. Those Legion that survived the 80's crazed hacking were dragged back to their camp, no doubt to be used as trophies, or, in somewhere as desolate as southern Utah, as sustenance. In desperation, Gracchus reached out to his guards. These, it seemed, were the most diminutive of the tribe - the party that had defeated Gracchus' collumn had worn ornaments from all corners of the wasteland, road signs, shawn strands of tyre, Brahmin skulls, anything that smacked of the abstraction of the old world, to befuddle and awe those the tribals encountered. The guards wore few or no such ornaments, and manned their post inside the blasted-dry-brick and iron walls of a hardy petrol-station; one which had stoically whethered the storms of as many as the seventeen nuclear warheads which had left black scars on the turf of the surrounding land. They were the runts, the outcast, the kind who picked at the scraps around the campfire, carried the equipment, enabled the glories of their bretherin. Gracchus turned this bitterness to his advantage. Night by night, he told the guards his story, how the Legion had found him as diminutive as they, of how it lifted men from the dung of sustenance and gave each a purpose. Pretty soon, he stirred the same fire of purposefulness in the guards as Gracchus once felt himself, and, not three weeks after his capture, in the frigid night of the Utah plains, Gracchus eloped the camp with twenty-three of the 80s, and two whole crates of pristine old world fire-arms at his back. On his return to Flagstaff, those Legion that had survived with Gracchus bore him in on their backs, hailing him with chants of [i]Centurion[/i] before placing the bloodstained helm of the fallen Maxentius on his brow. Caesar, hearing the chants, invited Gracchus to an audience, formally bestowing on him the mantle of Centurion, and command of the 80s he had lead to the Legion. Gracchus' heraldic feat reminded Caesar of his own triumph among the blackfoots, and, with many successes in the field, Gracchus and Caesar cultivated a much more mutualistic relationship that most legionnaires could have ever hoped for or imagined, driven by their shared vision of a unified, virtuous and altruistic wasteland. For many years, Gracchus was elated, his private hopes for the Legion were realised and reciprocated by its leader, and he would be his loyal disciple until the time of his demise. That was, until Gracchus first ran across the brutality of Legatus Lanius, who put to the sword any he chose, sometimes the weak, sometimes the sick, and sometimes those he deemed a sporting kill. In Lanius, there was nothing but mettle, he gave his men no purpose, only fear. Gracchus was fascinated and disgusted by him, both. In him, he saw all of the raw viciousness of the legion, a viciousness Gracchus had condoned and enabled for years, in the pursuit of some nobler goal. To Gracchus, the painful truth came worryingly into view - was his hope for the legion just a facade, an academic contrivance between he and its naive leader? Did it breed and cultivate monsters like Lanius, and was he destined to take control of the Legion entire? It was this desire to outdo Lanius, to prove, dialectically, his mistake, that lead to Gracchus crippling. At Hoover Dam, Gracchus charged his men through the tunnels with abandon, desperate to end the battle and claim the human spoils before they could meet with Lanius' eager sword. But, in doing so, he threw tactics to the wind. Neglecting his scouts, he met a fierce wall of fortified NCR, and a ranger, one with a card marked for the Centurion at the head of this mad charge. The ranger placed two shells into Gracchus' leg and knee-cap before the snare Lanius had devised enclosed and overwhelmed him. Gracchus was crippled. After months, he could shuffle, limp at best, the uppermost of the wounds wept and opened periodically, and his waking hours were spent nose-deep in healing powder, or else blinding agony. In Lanius' vision for the Legion, Gracchus would have been left to the one element left in the wasteland, but Caesar was more pragmatic. Recalling the rousing young man who had rallied so many "warriors" to the Legion's cause, he gave Gracchus and his men the greatest of tasks the legion would face, to mould Vegas and its citizens into a nova roma as its Praetor. Gracchus is simply unsure if he still has the belief, or the heart, to do so... [b][color=ed1c24]Clothing/Equipment: [/color][/b] Studded Vexalarius armour plating, a small 80s-highway symbol affixed to one of the discs, bronzed calf and wrist-plates fashioned from gas-station metal, a helmet of blue-dyed plumage made from old wire-brushes, and a thick blue Cape. Also carries a pair of sunglasses, and other standard legion-issue equipment, like healing powder. [b][color=ed1c24]Weapons: [/color][/b] Machette affixed to his right-hip. Revolver by left hip, sparingly loaded, as he rarely fights. [b] [color=ed1c24]Role within Society:[/color][/b] Urban Praetor [b][color=ed1c24] Special: [/color][/b] Strength 3, Perception 7, Endurance 6, Charisma 9 , Intelligence 9, Agility 1, Luck 5 [/hider]