6slyboy6

Rise of Rasalhague

Ulrik

NAME: Ulrik Mäkinen

NICKNAME: Grey

AGE: 45

APPEARANCE:

Ulrik is unremarkable on first look, and that has served him well over the years. Standing at 6'1", he's considered average height on his home planet of New Oslo, his greying black hair and somewhat trimmed beard giving a contrast to his sharp jawline. With an average build with a just enough muscles to keep finding shirts with wide enough shoulders to fit, he isn't necessarily standing out. However, his face carries a few scars and modifications, souvenirs from wars of past, and the brown marbles that sit under a stern brow glimmer intelligently, observing everyone and everything.

ORIGIN:

Born on the planet of New Oslo back when it was still a part of Kuritan space, Ulrik was raised in the spirit of both the Kuritans, and the local populace who can trace their origins back to the nordic countries of old Terra. A citizen of the Draconis Combine until very recently, he is now a citizen of the Rasalhague Republic.

PERSONALITY:

Ulrik is a man weary of life, with an almost inexhaustible pool of both patience and indifference. A military veteran turned to a mercenary, he doesn't talk much about his past or his experiences during the Fourth Succession wars in the Draconis armed forces. He speaks when spoken to or when speaking to someone, never one to draw out a conversation longer than it needs to be. Some may say it's just how he is, but those who knew Ulrik, or Grey as he is affectionately called because of his greying hair, they know that he has reasons to be so indifferent. The wars of past have changed him, and he'll be the first one to admit that he has done and seen things that will forever haunt him in every moment of his life.

However, that doesn't mean that Ulrik is a cold or harsh person. Though he might not engage in chit-chat by himself, he has no problem sharing a drink and a few stories, or cheering up a fellow soldier if they need it with a few words of encouragement. He's not the type to crack jokes, but he's a sincere, empathetic person, whose indifference and bluntness earned in the line of duty is reserved for life and the Great Houses, not those around him. Sort of a cold father figure in his own right, he doesn't patronize people, but takes responsibility for his actions and the actions of those around him.

All around, Ulrik is a no-nonsense leader who doesn't take no for an answer, but will do his best to make sure his subordinates are safe and taken care of. As long as you don't bother him by asking stories of his military career, Ulrik will always be available to talk with or help, just don't expect a heartfelt conversation about feelings. That part of him is either buried too deep, or it died when he earned his purple hearts.

When not on duty, one can usually find Ulrik at the simulators, where he has a bad habit of fall asleep in the pods whilst reading an e-book, instead of using the machines. If not there, then the commander is either spending time at the bar, quietly observing the rest of the crew with a drink by his side, or down in the mech bay polishing every last bolt on his aging Centurion, perhaps the only thing that the commander has publicly shown affection towards.

Generally accepting of all people, even Capellans, Ulrik seems to have a particular gripe with the Federated Suns, and it is one of the few topics that can get him heated up to a point where he starts to speak before thinking. Whatever the reason is, he isn't willing to share it with anyone.

HISTORY:

Born and raised on New Oslo, from a young age Ulrik knew that he wanted to become a Mechwarrior. Raised near the only mech factory in the area of space near Rasalhague, he'd see them machines being built and shipped off almost every day. He was always fascinated with the machines and how they worked, and even though his mother never liked the idea of him becoming a soldier, his veteran dad never refused to let him watch the machines. Perhaps seeing a bit of himself in his son, nowadays Commander Grey sounds a lot like his father that he sometimes mentions during the rare occasions he talks about his past.

Eventually, Ulrik left his home planet to enlist in the Draconis Combine Mustered Soldiery. Beginning his career as a humble foot soldier, Ulrik slowly climbed up the ranks until he was able to transfer and take command of a newly formed lance of medium mechs. By this point he had enough experience, and luck, fighting mechs as an infantry to respect their awesome firepower, but also to learn that even the kings of the battlefield can be struck down with enough planning. He was still enthusiastic to finally pilot his lance at a relatively young age and realize his dream, but reality soon came knocking.

Medium Mechs are the king of the battlefield, the jack of all trades, the affordable, effective solution to most problems. However, as soon as you're not fighting pirates or inorganized militas, the bitter reality starts to slowly set in: too slow to chase down skirmishing Lights, and too lightly armed and armoured to effectively fight Heavy and Assault mechs, more often than not Medium Mechs become the punching bags in larger engagements, and the first ones to take casualties.

Though Ulrik managed to avoid the fate of many others, his years as a lance commander saw the bright-eyed and promising young NCO become the man he is now. Though he rarely talks about his rank and role in both the Draconis and Rasalhague military before he became a mercenary, it is clear he made a solid career out of warfare by the time he retired. Rarely he talks about the "times of peace" as he calls it, but his lips are sealed shut about the Fourth Succession war and the four years since then.

Whatever the he did, he will not tell, and it is probably for the best. The only thing to turn an otherwise patient man irate, war is a difficult business, that not many wage for as long as Ulrik did in the 31st century. Officially retired now, he supposedly only asked for his mech as his payment for years of service. Now he serves his home planet and people once more with it, being one of the few commanders chosen to lead the new recruits who are supposed to carry out the unofficial business of the Rasalhague Republic. It's probably best this way if one is to ask Ulrik: he's had enough of being in a military, and finally he gets to dictate where he goes to fight, more or less. Too old and stubborn to quit the one profession he's perfected for a lifetime now, Ulrik has made it clear on several occasions that the only time he'll retire is "When some FedScum shoots an AC/20 through my Centurion's core, and even then I hope to give him a big hug before I go to Valhalla through a fusion fueled blaze of glory."

---

SKILLS:

• Gunnery: 4
• Piloting: 6
• Guts: 5
• Tactics: 7

ABILITIES:

• Brawler: Over the years Ulrik has learnt that often the most effective weapon wasn't his AC/10, and later his Large Laser, but rather the fists on the Centurion. Though by no means an agile mech, he has a way of making the machine dance in close quarters combat. Of course, he knows better than anyone else that if it comes to a brawl, some part of the plan had already gone very wrong.

MISC:
Ulrik is pretty seriously addicted to nicotine, to the point where he smokes almost a box of cigarettes every day, if supplies allow it. Doesn't talk much about it, like many other topics, but the few times he commented on it he claimed he needed it for his nerves.

Centurion "Kitsugi"

Type: Centurion CN9-AL

Name: "Kitsugi"

Mass/Class: 50 ton Medium Mech

Armor: 11 tons of Standard Armor

Top Speed: 64 km/h

Armanents:

• 1x Large Laser
• 2x Medium Laser
• 1x Small Laser
• 1x LRM-10 w/ 2 tons of ammo

Heat Sinks:

• 16x Single Heatsinks

Quirk:

• Improved Targeting (Short)

Misc: "Kitsugi" is Swedenese for "coffin", a derogatory term often used by FRR/DCMA infantrymen to refer to 'Mechs.

Rise of Rasalhague

CHARACTERS LIST:

MECHWARRIORS:

Ulrik "Grey" Mäkinen - Commander - CN9-AL

Zohra "TOFU" Amina Imalayen - Rookie - RVN-2X

Alvin Davion - Rookie - HER-4K

Karel "DASH" Chalupa - Rookie - MON-67

Hamazap Sulser - Rookie - LCT-1V

Nakano Fuka - Rookie - DRG-1N

Remy "Overkill" Clarke - Rookie - FS9-H

Katrina "BB" Blut - Rookie - PNT-9R

Jaromir Zhu - Rookie - TBT-7K

"ANKHANNE" STAFF

Maj. Konrad Götz - Captain of the Ankhanne

Brynjar Olsson - Chief Engineer

Elene Sidorov - Chief 'Mech Technician

Dr. Rachel Fields - Chief Medical Officer

Miura Daisuke - Quartermaster

Rise of Rasalhague

There we go, I have finished the sheet for your new commanding officer, everyone say hello to Ulrik Mäkinen.

I wanted to get this CS out so that you can all see an example of a sheet that I'd like to see, of course, with your own character and spin on it

The rest of the support crew in the forms of our company's main engineer, medical chief and XO will be revealed later and added to the CS as we begin the RP, until then focus on coming up with a character idea. If you haven't already, write down a list of three either Light or Medium mechs that you'd like to see, as I'll be adding them to the random pool from which I'll be drawing our mechs. Always fun to have some RNG, but I want to make sure everyone's wishes are represented

Ulrik

NAME: Ulrik Mäkinen

NICKNAME: Grey

AGE: 45

APPEARANCE:

Ulrik is unremarkable on first look, and that has served him well over the years. Standing at 6'1", he's considered average height on his home planet of New Oslo, his greying black hair and somewhat trimmed beard giving a contrast to his sharp jawline. With an average build with a just enough muscles to keep finding shirts with wide enough shoulders to fit, he isn't necessarily standing out. However, his face carries a few scars and modifications, souvenirs from wars of past, and the brown marbles that sit under a stern brow glimmer intelligently, observing everyone and everything.

ORIGIN:

Born on the planet of New Oslo back when it was still a part of Kuritan space, Ulrik was raised in the spirit of both the Kuritans, and the local populace who can trace their origins back to the nordic countries of old Terra. A citizen of the Draconis Combine until very recently, he is now a citizen of the Rasalhague Republic.

PERSONALITY:

Ulrik is a man weary of life, with an almost inexhaustible pool of both patience and indifference. A military veteran turned to a mercenary, he doesn't talk much about his past or his experiences during the Fourth Succession wars in the Draconis armed forces. He speaks when spoken to or when speaking to someone, never one to draw out a conversation longer than it needs to be. Some may say it's just how he is, but those who knew Ulrik, or Grey as he is affectionately called because of his greying hair, they know that he has reasons to be so indifferent. The wars of past have changed him, and he'll be the first one to admit that he has done and seen things that will forever haunt him in every moment of his life.

However, that doesn't mean that Ulrik is a cold or harsh person. Though he might not engage in chit-chat by himself, he has no problem sharing a drink and a few stories, or cheering up a fellow soldier if they need it with a few words of encouragement. He's not the type to crack jokes, but he's a sincere, empathetic person, whose indifference and bluntness earned in the line of duty is reserved for life and the Great Houses, not those around him. Sort of a cold father figure in his own right, he doesn't patronize people, but takes responsibility for his actions and the actions of those around him.

All around, Ulrik is a no-nonsense leader who doesn't take no for an answer, but will do his best to make sure his subordinates are safe and taken care of. As long as you don't bother him by asking stories of his military career, Ulrik will always be available to talk with or help, just don't expect a heartfelt conversation about feelings. That part of him is either buried too deep, or it died when he earned his purple hearts.

When not on duty, one can usually find Ulrik at the simulators, where he has a bad habit of fall asleep in the pods whilst reading an e-book, instead of using the machines. If not there, then the commander is either spending time at the bar, quietly observing the rest of the crew with a drink by his side, or down in the mech bay polishing every last bolt on his aging Centurion, perhaps the only thing that the commander has publicly shown affection towards.

Generally accepting of all people, even Capellans, Ulrik seems to have a particular gripe with the Federated Suns, and it is one of the few topics that can get him heated up to a point where he starts to speak before thinking. Whatever the reason is, he isn't willing to share it with anyone.

HISTORY:

Born and raised on New Oslo, from a young age Ulrik knew that he wanted to become a Mechwarrior. Raised near the only mech factory in the area of space near Rasalhague, he'd see them machines being built and shipped off almost every day. He was always fascinated with the machines and how they worked, and even though his mother never liked the idea of him becoming a soldier, his veteran dad never refused to let him watch the machines. Perhaps seeing a bit of himself in his son, nowadays Commander Grey sounds a lot like his father that he sometimes mentions during the rare occasions he talks about his past.

Eventually, Ulrik left his home planet to enlist in the Draconis Combine Mustered Soldiery. Beginning his career as a humble foot soldier, Ulrik slowly climbed up the ranks until he was able to transfer and take command of a newly formed lance of medium mechs. By this point he had enough experience, and luck, fighting mechs as an infantry to respect their awesome firepower, but also to learn that even the kings of the battlefield can be struck down with enough planning. He was still enthusiastic to finally pilot his lance at a relatively young age and realize his dream, but reality soon came knocking.

Medium Mechs are the king of the battlefield, the jack of all trades, the affordable, effective solution to most problems. However, as soon as you're not fighting pirates or inorganized militas, the bitter reality starts to slowly set in: too slow to chase down skirmishing Lights, and too lightly armed and armoured to effectively fight Heavy and Assault mechs, more often than not Medium Mechs become the punching bags in larger engagements, and the first ones to take casualties.

Though Ulrik managed to avoid the fate of many others, his years as a lance commander saw the bright-eyed and promising young NCO become the man he is now. Though he rarely talks about his rank and role in both the Draconis and Rasalhague military before he became a mercenary, it is clear he made a solid career out of warfare by the time he retired. Rarely he talks about the "times of peace" as he calls it, but his lips are sealed shut about the Fourth Succession war and the four years since then.

Whatever the he did, he will not tell, and it is probably for the best. The only thing to turn an otherwise patient man irate, war is a difficult business, that not many wage for as long as Ulrik did in the 31st century. Officially retired now, he supposedly only asked for his mech as his payment for years of service. Now he serves his home planet and people once more with it, being one of the few commanders chosen to lead the new recruits who are supposed to carry out the unofficial business of the Rasalhague Republic. It's probably best this way if one is to ask Ulrik: he's had enough of being in a military, and finally he gets to dictate where he goes to fight, more or less. Too old and stubborn to quit the one profession he's perfected for a lifetime now, Ulrik has made it clear on several occasions that the only time he'll retire is "When some FedScum shoots an AC/20 through my Centurion's core, and even then I hope to give him a big hug before I go to Valhalla through a fusion fueled blaze of glory."

---

SKILLS:

• Gunnery: 4
• Piloting: 6
• Guts: 5
• Tactics: 7

ABILITIES:

• Brawler: Over the years Ulrik has learnt that often the most effective weapon wasn't his AC/10, and later his Large Laser, but rather the fists on the Centurion. Though by no means an agile mech, he has a way of making the machine dance in close quarters combat. Of course, he knows better than anyone else that if it comes to a brawl, some part of the plan had already gone very wrong.

MISC:
Ulrik is pretty seriously addicted to nicotine, to the point where he smokes almost a box of cigarettes every day, if supplies allow it. Doesn't talk much about it, like many other topics, but the few times he commented on it he claimed he needed it for his nerves.

Centurion "Kitsugi"

Type: Centurion CN9-AL

Name: "Kitsugi"

Mass/Class: 50 ton Medium Mech

Armor: 11 tons of Standard Armor

Top Speed: 64 km/h

Armanents:

• 1x Large Laser
• 2x Medium Laser
• 1x Small Laser
• 1x LRM-10 w/ 2 tons of ammo

Heat Sinks:

• 16x Single Heatsinks

Quirk:

• Improved Targeting (Short)

Misc: "Kitsugi" is Swedenese for "coffin", a derogatory term often used by DCMA infantrymen to refer to 'Mechs.

Rise of Rasalhague

Because I never know if mentions work properly or not in the very first post, here's your mention people :)

@QJT@Smike@Abstract Proxy@Starlance@Letter Bee@MadameRadetzky

CS for the commander of our jolly little band of mercenaries coming up soon, just as I have time to refresh after writing up a storm for another RP

You can start posting your CS here if you've already had the time to think something up, if not you can wait for mine and see if you can find some inspiration :)

Rise of Rasalhague

---

The year is 3034. The Fourth Succession war ended 4 years ago, the clan invasion of the Inner Sphere is still 15 years away, and Voice of Kerensky won't reach Terra for another 600 years. And whilst the great houses are hardly at rest, eagerly gnawing at each other as they have always done, trying to undermine each other's powers in the shadows, open war has once more faded into obscurity and a new era of peace reigns. With the looming birth of the FedCom alliance and the secession and establishment of new Inner Sphere nations like the Free Rasalhague Republic, a sense of normality seems to finally be returning to everyday life.

However, all is not well, and the first signs of a future conflict are already starting to appear on the horizon. Dark clouds gather on the borders of the major houses as they try to consolidate their assets in the new power balance. And whilst their own resources have dwindled significantly and open war seems out of the question with a super-state ruling over half of the Inner Sphere, mercenaries have once again the primary way to fight border skirmishes. A new age of prosperity is upon all the daring mechwarriors and mercs who take up the great houses on their contracts, and with the recent discovery of the Helm Memory core the toys available in their arsenal have expanded significantly. Old mechs born anew with SLDF era technology, weapons never before seen being fielded and a wide variety of cheap mechs available from the stockpiles of the Fourth Succession war as they arm themselves with newer gear, there has never been a better time to be alive in the Inner Sphere for a mercenary.

---

---

RECRUITMENT

"That's where you come in. I'm legally obligated to give this to you before I continue." The gruff sergeant sitting across a mostly empty steel table slowly leans forward, and places a beat-up looking datapad down in front of you with a quiet clink. Scratches and smears cover the dim surface, but even in the hazy light of the recruitment office you can make out the details of the contract that is presented to you. You take a moment to pick up the tablet and read into the file a little, but you soon realize that it doesn't matter whether or not you understand or even agree with the contents: mechwarriors don't usually live long enough to hire a lawyer and get win their rights to a pension plan. The sergeant waits a few more seconds before his patience runs out and then reaches forward, grabbing the top of the tablet and pulling it back down on the table to show that your allotted time has ended to study your contract. So much for "fair terms". His fingers quickly run up and down the length of the contract with the dexterity of someone who's manouvered this exact contract upside down hundreds of times. Soon enough, a large square appears that asks for your fingerprint, and the gives you a hurried look. "If you'd place your thumb here please. This is your non-disclosure agreement, I'm sure you understand." Even if he tried he couldn't have made that attempt attempt at sympathy any less convincing, but you've already spent the last month sitting on a cramped JumpShip to get here, so you might as well hear him out. You press your thumb to the screen, and after a few moments of waiting and a surprisingly comforting chime later the datapad is already whisked away and placed back into the depths of the sergeant's drawer.

"Let me be frank with you. I don't see the need to hire untrained and unprofessional mercs like you, but that is what the powers that be demanded. The Free Rasalhague Republic is still young, and we can't be everywhere within the large territory we inherited to iron out every kink that the Kuritas might have left us. So-" He slowly leans back in his seat as he pauses for a moment, his arms crossed and eyes tightened whilst the man tried to decide how many weeks it will be before you manage to run your mech off a cliff or into a swamp. "the Rasalhague Republic is forming merc companies to help us. Under this contract you just signed, you'll be given a mech of your own from your surplus and assigned to one of our independent merc lances. We will give you financial aid to get your company off it's feet, but after that you'll be reliant on your merc job for c-bills. Your obligations will be first and foremost towards the Free Rasalhague Republic, but you'll be allowed to take contracts from third parties as long as it doesn't go against the interests of the state. Any questions?" Plenty, but the fact that the sergeant's face has gotten progressively more and more annoyed ever since you stepped foot in the room even though you haven't said a word makes you think that a simple nod will suffice. You don't need trouble with your new employer, and you certainly don't want a late night visit from a Mimir agent if they as much as suspect that you're going to tell anything you've heard here to, let's say, a Kuritan informant. "Perfect. "Off you go then. A shuttle is already waiting for you in Hangar Bay 1, along with all the new recruits. Try not to get lost." He shuffles inside his drawer one more time before handing you a new datapad, this one somehow looking even more beat-up than the last one. The screen is already illuminated with almost offensively simple instructions towards Hangar Bay 1. You sneak in one more glance over the top of the datapad at the sergeant, only to be met with a stern gaze. Right, this is where you take your leave. You think for a moment about saluting the man, but then decide it's probably best you left as fast as you could if you wanted to avoid a stern talking-to. Walking out the door and towards Hangar Bay 1, you have plenty of time to muse over how differently you imagined this situation going, but in the end you got the job you came here for. Certainly beats piloting busted-up AgriMechs on backwater planet until the rest of your days, or the next war between the great houses sees it, and consequently you, reduced to radioactive ash.

---

THE LONG AND SHORT

Hello, and welcome to all of you future mechwarriors

After a long, looooooooong absence from the site and RPing both, I have returned with a ravenous appetite for some BattleTech content, so without a further a-do, let me explain this RP.

Principally, this RP is a mix of the many mecha RPs you are familiar with, and the more open ended sci-fi mercenary RPs. However it is wholly unlike Gundam: the reality of BattleTech is that it is gritty, it is unforgiving, and wars usually play like games of Defcom, where casualties caused by orbital bombardments and nuclear strikes are touted as high-scores between the Great Houses. There is a long and rich lore for the setting, but let's just say I picked a part that has the least amount of things going on, whilst still giving plenty of fun options for us to explore. If you are a newcomer to the franchise who is completely confused by the lore, I will have a codex down below to explain the main points, but I promise you won't need to read it to understand the basics.

Premise

So, you'll be playing as a newly recruited Merc, short for mercenary, by one of the Inner Sphere's governments to join a mercenary unit of fellow Mechwarriors who will accept contracts to help them out with various issues. All of you are pilots, Mechwarriors who pilot bipedal mechs that are awesome tools of war, able to deal with just about any manner of threats that they may face of the battlefield. They come in many shapes and sizes, some designed for lightning fast precisions trikes and scout missions, whilst others clad several dozen tons of armor and carry weapons designed to obliterate smaller mechs in a single salvo. Gifted to your company by the government of the Free Rasalhague Republic, you'll first be equipped by surplus mechs of dubious quality, leftovers of previous wars and aging machines too expensive to keep in storage. You and your fellow pilots will travel in your company's DropShip from planet to planet and system to system, taking on jobs by various employers to keep the lights on and afford better equipment, whilst at the same time completing the orders of the government that helped form your lance whenever they need your help.

The primary plot points will be the struggle of staying afloat and not getting blown to bits, as a merc's life is as hard as it can be difficult. However, with time the "almost canon" part of the RP will come to life as your company will start receiving jobs that will take them deeper and deeper into political intricacies of the Inner Sphere. I won't spoil much though, you'll just have to stick around and find out ;)

All of you will be able to tend to and personalize your own mechs in the downtime, and hopefully do a good job of keeping them together when the going gets tough. Some game-like systems will be in place, but overall I plan on keeping the meat of the RP free and focused on your characters, the pilots. In the downtimes you'll have time to spar, chase down lucrative jobs and partake in the lives of most mercs, but in battles you'll have to do your best to keep each other alive. I'm hoping to see a group of pilots emerge who have been scarred by battle fought together, and have many stories to share over a couple of glasses of cold ones.

Battles

As far as battles go, we'll be using a significantly simplified system for combat. If you've ever played DnD, you know what I mean: depending on what you write and do in your own post, the chance to hit someone or evade an attack will become better or worse. Then, based on the result of a simple dice roll, in your next post you can explain just how you've succeeded or failed.

Now, I already hear some of you clicking away, but please stay for one more second. I love number crunching, but even I hate when there are too many rules involved. However, in BattleTech mechs can survive some surprising amount of punishment, and foes are usually numbered few but highly dangerous, so there needs to be a system to make sure it isn't just a simple "I kill him with my pew-pew" for every mech. However, this system only applies when fighting other mechs; when your party faces infantry or other vehicles, it will be a first come-first served basis of combat, unless specifically stated by me. Proper fights should be tough and unforgiving, but all the more awesome in the end, when the twisting fates of the dice gods give us plenty of writing material.

Rules and Comms

Every RP needs active players interested in the setting to survive, so I'm hoping that the many sci-fi nerds and mech lovers can come together on this RP, and I get to share one of my favorite franchises with fellow vets and interested newcomers. I'll do my best to guide anyone new through some of the more "confusing" aspects of the BattleTech, but honestly this is probably one of the easiest sci-f setting to get into. Certainly much easier than something like Warhammer 40k, or Star Trek.

Before I give you the CSs, there are a few simple rules I'd like for everyone to follow. Nothing out of the ordinary, but it's best not to tempt fate and write them down :)

• No Powergaming: Plain and simple. The premise is that everyone is either new or simply ill-equipped, I'm not looking for people who want to have characters with the "endgame" characters. As always, looking for people who enjoy the setting, and want write cool stories with others. If you want to shoot stuff to bits in every post, this isn't for you.
• Ask First: If you are confused or don't know something, ask before you write. A lot of headache can be saved by proper communication.
• Respect: Respect each other's decisions and writing. It's as simple as that, I don't want people arguing OOC over what someone wrote in their post during or outside of combat. If there is beef, make sure it's in the form of a well written collab post :)
• Schedule: We'll try and stick to frequent posts if possible, so if you can't handle that because something comes up, make sure to tell us. Might not be as important during downtime when characters are interacting, but during combat I'd like to wait no more than 2-3 days between GM posts to make sure things go smoothly. The exact details we'll figure out once we have the full team, but for the sake of everyone else, I won't wait weeks for a single person.

I promised it would be simple. Other than this, the "standard" forumwide rules apply, you all know the drill by now haha.

There will be a Discord channel, and the invitations will be sent out via DMs on a need-to-know basis. I've seen enough trolling and bot spam on public servers to know that I don't want to deal with that, but don't be afraid to ask for the link from me if you are interested in the RP but ultimately undecided, and you want to ask some questions without the forum delay :)

Characters

The fun part! The CS will be split into 2 sections: your Pilot, and his/her/their mech. For now, leave the Mech part empty and focus on coming up with a character. What motivations do they have to leave their old life behind? Maybe they got bored of being a farmer or a delivery driver who already used IndistrialMechs, maybe they are an ex-military veteran who wanted to get a more lucrative career, or maybe your home planet was ravaged during the last succession war and you have nowhere to go. Whatever you might come up with, know that your character means everything: even the strongest of mechs can fall to the superior skill, or motivation, of their adversary, so make your Mechwarrior someone we can all cheer for.

MechWarrior

Name: What is your character called?

Nickname: What do the other pilots call you? Feel free to leave this empty for now, and "earn" your nickname like real pilots do.

Appearance: What does your character look like? You can link a picture if you have one you fancy, or you can write their physical description down. Preferrably both.

Age: How old is your character?

Origin: Where is your character originally from? Check the Codex if you need help figuring this one out, there are plenty of options, and none of them are wrong (except for Capellans, we don't like them)

Personality: How does your character usually behave? This is the important bit, feel free to go into detail if you want.

History: What happened to your character before they got into the mercenary business? Generally speaking, you'd have to have had some experience with mechs before you'd get a job as Mechwarrior. You don't need to write an essay here, but some fleshed out backstory always helps in the long run, so go wild if you have a cool idea.

Skills:

• Gunery:
• Piloting:
• Guts:
• Tactics:

(This one works a bit differently. Every pilot has 4 basic skills: Gunnery, Piloting, Guts and Tactics. These are numerical values that normally affect the outcome of certain event. Gunnery for shooting, Piloting for manouvering and dodging, Guts resisting injury and melee, and finally Tactics for using sensors and communicating with the team. We'll use these as "soft" values, little extra stats to augment the RP side of things, and not as cold hard factors to take into account with everything we do. In the tabletop these very much define your chances, but we aren't playing tabletop, so these will be nothing more than adding flavor to the game. You start with 12 points that you can assign to the 4 categories. The max points a skill can have is 5 points for now, so spend them to give others a general idea of your character's proficiencies and shortcomings as a Mechwarrior.)

Abilities: We'll keep track of pilot's abilities here once they earn any. These are usually beneficial modifiers for specific situations, and will be "awarded" during the RP if it feels like a pilot earned it. Same soft statistic as Skills, used mostly for flavor to give a unique flare to every pilot.

Misc: Add anything here you feel is important about your character, or that you normally add to your CSs. Otherwise, you can leave it empty or delete it.

Mech

Type: The type and variant of your mech.

Name: The affectionate name given to the machine by your pilot.

Mass/Class: The weight and class of your mech.

Armor: How many tons and what type of armor your mech has.

Top Speed: How far can your mech run/jump.

Armanents: The amount and type of weapons that your mech carries, as well as how many tons of ammo it has available.

Heat Sinks: The amount and type of Heatsinks your mech has.

Quirk: Any notable feature associate with the type, or the specific mech.

(Almost all of this data is readily available on Sarna, the excellent website for all things BattleTech related. However, we'll be breaking the rules a bit here and there, and adding things to Quirks, such as damage sustained in previous engagements that we have been unable to repair, or other oddities.)

That's about it. If the need arises I can provide an example character for both lore and formatting purposes, but I prefer to let people be creative with their characters ^^

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FINAL WORDS

And that's it, we have a wrap! This should be all the things you need to get started on making a character and deciding if you want to play the RP with me even if you are a newcomer. Of course, feel free to check out the Codex for more tidbits and sources where you can find other info and see if you'll like the setting. I think everyone will pick it up as we go, so I hope to see plenty of people interested in becoming a mercenary and piloting giant mechs in combat with their lancemates and having epic adventures. Don't be afraid to ask questions if there is anything that you feel I didn't explain or that you are interested in!

Hope to see all kinds of applications, and until next time, stay safe Mechwarriors!

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

@ERode

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~Fort Daelantine~

Whatever resolve she mad managed to gather in spite of the horrible feeling she had about this entire place, it did not last long. As their group entered the fort and began to venture deeper, there was a mysterious crimson shade that covered the walls, and one that made the ground beneath their feet tainted. It took a moment for the already dazed Amy on the lookout for enemies to truly process what was going on, but when the rich iron smell hit her nostrils she froze up, and she finally looked down at the soggy mud that covered her boots, her eyes shooting wide in shock.



Rapid and uneven breathing. Dilated pupils. Tense muscles. Shock.

As the corpses mounted in her field of view, Amy's legs began to tremble, her fingers shaking as she had a hard time maintaining grip on her flute despite her knuckles going white from the effort. They... killed each other. Every last one of them. Brother against brother, comrade against comrade, some lay dead still wrestling each other as they did moments before their death. And most of them didn't die a quick death either... gruesome examples of those who carried on living long enough to spite the people they once fought besides littered the inner courtyard. That ominous, gut wrenching feeling that she felt outside and managed to push aside as she joined her group was back, several times worse now that she saw the carnage.

Whatever the spreading madness was that caused such massacre had left a deep, terrible imprint on this place that seeped like a deadly ooze or miasma into every crevice and corner, every crack in the weather-worn stone walls of the castle. It was a malignant force, festering in the shadows and growing into an incomprehensible abyss of terror. Amy was staring down into that abyss with every moment she was looking out for threats, and the abyss stared back at her with such a pestilent gaze that it left her gasping. This place, this... force, was one of indescribable evil and hostility. And Amy felt like it had singled her out, the one person most observant to it's effects. If this assault on her senses was anything like what overcame the garrison of the fort, she could hardly blame them from turning each other and succumbing to madness.

The world was spinning and she couldn't keep up, the only thing still keeping her on two feet being the terror she felt when the thought of falling over in the blood soaked mud crossed her mind. Still, she couldn't help herself, the muddled noises of her comrades and some third party talking barely registering in her mind. Amy was in a world of her own, her sight reduced to a small island of color amidst and ocean of black as she stared at the corpses who wielded their weapons as if they needed to slay their comrades once more. She could feel her body on the edge of giving up, the sickness of this place slowly overcoming and muffling that desperate last call to action that her mind was able to muster, and the darkness taking hold of her periphery taking hold of all that she could sense. All was consumed by shadows...

What happened afterwards was a blurry mess of pictures and emotions. All she knew is that someone had grabbed her arm and tugged her, and that when she came to her senses she was outside the fort with Serenity.

She wanted to usher a quiet "thank you", but instead she finally fell to the ground and threw up with a panicked groan, a fit of cough coming over her afterwards as the irrational terror began to clear from her mind, like a rolling fog slowly disappearing as the sun comes up. She had never felt anything nearly as potent as this, and even the graveyards filled with sorrow did not have such a lasting imprint that could affect her days after the people had passed. Then again... she had never been on a battlefield, and she imagined that this was the real deal, the way those places would feel as well. Coughing up a little more slime, Amy closed her eyes and took a deep breath, pushing herself up to her feet. She picked up her ivory flute that she had dropped when she fell, and wiped off some of the mud from it before she shakily turned to Serenity. She wasn't sure what to say to the girl after her performance of... well, falling apart. For her first assignment, she didn't expect to find piles of corpses of people who murdered each other. She had a new understanding of the feeling that was trying to ceaselessly tear into her, even now, outside the castle walls. Maybe the others weren't susceptible to it, but when she was trying to keep her senses open for danger, it was able to strike her at her weakest. There was no excuse for her weakness in the face of such massacre, but she felt like she understood it a little more now.

Nobody wants to grow accustomed to such a feeling, but Amy was forced to rapidly adapt if she wished to be of any use. Looking down at her flute for a moment, her mind wandered to old teachings she received when she was still just a kid, and her powers were starting to manifest. This sort of... magic, was exactly the thing that the clerics had warned her of. The sort of forbidden and malignant powers that those taking care of her feared she'd develop. The ability to warp the minds of others to make them commit violent acts. The same magic she swore never to practice in her life.

Her grip tightened around the smooth surface of her flute, fingers going numb from the hold, and the gaze she had averted from others until now finally fell upon Serenity.

Maybe Mayon had sent her here, on this mission, for a reason. Surely the goddess would teach her clerics the most valuable life lessons through experience. Such coincidences did not happen without a higher purpose, and she was supposed to carry out the will of her goddess when this type of magic was concerned.

"Serenity..." She whispered quietly before she turned to take a look at the knight who had dragged her out. Under the shining light of Mayon, her face was now filled with a new shard of crimson, one of anger and determination. "I... we, cannot let the same fate befall our fellow knights. I know you can't feel it, but a shadow falls over this fort, smothering the senses with the last thoughts and emotions of the dead. If whoever, or whatever caused this massacre is still around, then this could be a trap, set up just for us Roses. I can't know for sure, and the fact that we haven't been attacked offers little comfort, but..." Her eyes shifted to the side, past the large doors and towards the rest of the group as they confronted the unknown girl. "She's got compatriots, I can feel them. Maybe they didn't kill anyone here, but they could've caused this massacre for all we know. Call me crazy, but..." She fell silent for a moment as she turned around and she let her senses, both physical and magical, search for anything that was out place, any sign of a trap or a spell ready to be unleashed at them. The sort of hostile intent that this whole fort seemed to be festering with. "Either this is an ambush waiting to happen with the same spell that took care of the garrison, or someone is really bad at cleaning up after themselves."

She had all but forgotten about her previous weakness from before. Surely the adrenaline pumping through her veins helped tremendously, and her hands were still shaking, but Amy was convinced that whatever was waiting for her comrades in the fort wasn't something they could fight only with their swords. More than anything she wanted to help them, and that same conviction that had been drilled into her since childhood now began to surface in the face of adversity. She had experience the evil nature of the fort, and she had felt it's overpowering effects on the mind. As much as she hated to admit that she wasn't cautious enough when trying to understand it, and that the sea of blood had bested her timid nature, she felt like she now understood what needed to be done if such a force tried to take control of her.

Her head twitched, like an animal reacting to a sound that no human could perceive. For a moment her crimson eyes scoured the horizon, and then with a few bold steps she closed the distance to Serenity, and grabbed onto the girl's wrist, pulling her hand closer. "Please, let me show you what I see. I need you to understand my concern." Within the second, Serenity could feel the cold creeping up her arm, the uncaring and evil energies of the place that was felt by Amy penetrating into her own mind. It was but a fraction of the whole, limited by Amy's abilities to convey such information to people she had so little connection with, but it was more than enough to give the girl a taste of what the young cleric feared the most.

"Promise me to stay close, alright? If you feel anything weird like this coming onto you, clouding your judgement and testing your resolve, grab my hand. I know how it looked just now, but... I can protect you from magic that would try and alter your senses. If worst comes to worst, I should be able to put you to sleep before you turn on anyone, but I trust that won't be necessary." She stared directly into Serenity's eyes for a good few seconds, her fingers firmly gripping the knight's wrist in a way that more pleaded for the knight's cooperation than commanded her obedience.

Finally she relented and let go, dusting herself off for the second time tonight in front of the castle gates, and then beckoned for Serenity to follow as she followed in the footsteps of Lein and Steffen who had finally returned. If anything was going to go down, she felt she'd be much more useful inside with the rest of the Roses, rather than staying outside and being unable to help them out.

Rise of Rasalhague - A "mostly" canon BattleTech mercenary roleplay for mech enjoyers

Name: Hamazasp Sulser

Nickname: He registered under the callsign "Battleax Bulldog", but he's certainly open to new (and better) alternatives

Appearance:

He trims his beard regularly. He always carries a smile but never shows his teeth. He throws his shoulders back and walks upright, making him appear taller than he actually is. He wears a plain T-shirt and thick slacks inside his quarters but wouldn't be caught dead outside without his overcoat.

Age: 29 Earth years

Origin: Born and raised in the Taurian Concordat

Personality: An offensive baseliner. In social life, in combat, in romance, he won't engage before calculating a high probability of "success," or his definition of it, then storm forward with full investment. He can wait hours, days, weeks for this opportunity depending on the situation. He's quite patient and observant, though sparingly few of his friends realize it. He talks so brashly and boorishly that acquaintances dismiss him as an irrelevant triviality. Whether this is a front or a genuine aspect of his character, not even he knows himself. He has pondered that occasionally in moments of self reflection.

History: The Sulser's dairy industry, like most on Illiushin, was renowned throughout the known galaxy. As the youngest of six siblings, however, Hamazasp was impeded from higher positions of company leadership. He found solace in mech simulations. His older sister fell ill, and he assumed her duties. Misinterpreting his benevolence as a power grab, she demanded his exile when she recovered. Instead, his parents bought him the battlemech he operates to this day, bringing honor to the family business in his own unique way.

Skills:
Gunnery: 3
Piloting: 2
Guts: 2
Tactics: 5

Abilities: Sensor Lock: Select a target within range to reveal it until end of current round and remove two of its EVASIVE charges.

Misc: Keeps a harmonica in his pocket, and plays it as the mood arises. Maintains a physical library in his cockpit, as space allows. For growing up on a world that specializes in cheeses, is oddly lactose intolerant.

Cantinera

Type: Hunchback (HBK-4G), Modified (HBK-4L Brass Redemption)
Mass/Class: 50 tons, Medium-class
Armor: 6.5 tons of Starshield
Top Speed: 64 kph (40 mph)
Armaments:
2x Autocannon/5, General Motors (yes, that GM)
2 tons of ammunition shared between both systems
Laser (large), Krupp
Flamer (small), Pandora
Heat Sinks: None
Quirk: 2x Jump Jets

@QJT

You know, I think this is probably a good time to address some of the things that I'm fairly certain I already mentioned, but ones that I can't stress enough. Don't think of this as a reprimand, but more of a learning experience :D

The most obvious thing here is that there is already a mech you've assigned to your MechWarrior, though I'll chalk it up as the mech bough for him by his family, according to backstory. In the RP I'll be sure to give you all "new" mechs, because I know people who are familiar with the setting are biased towards a particular few, and those who are new will likely get lost. This is to spice things up, I am sure you'll have fun learning some new mechs. (Also your mech has 0 heat sinks, apparently, which would turn it into a flaming ball after the first salvo of AC/5s.)

Going over the character, him having Sensor Lock is... well, my BattleTech obsessed brain knows that it checks out for the video game, but this part of the sheet is roughly based on the optional ruleset of Special Pilot Abilities, from a Time of War ruleset. They aren't based on skills; they give flavorful abilities that are unique to a pilot. That's also why earning them is an RP thing, not a number crunching thing. But if your character is already someone that relies on sensors a lot, I am sure they'll get something similar.

Finally, it's the characters that run the show. I'd appreciate slightly more detail in the personality section, and in the history a bit about HOW/WHY they became a mercenary. Especially someone from the Taurian Concordat: why did he travel alllll the way across the Inner Sphere to accept work for the Rasalhague?

This is relevant info for everyone, when you are creating your sheets. I know IC talks more loudly than OOC, but we can only rely on what we can see, and I can only judge based on what I read first. Either way, OC is coming today, so are Discord links, so make some time for yourself in the calendar :)

Rise of Rasalhague - A "mostly" canon BattleTech mercenary roleplay for mech enjoyers

@SmikeOf course, I'm more than happy t help out any newcomers to the franchise. This was very much designed for new people who were interested, so you'll fit right in :)

Rise of Rasalhague - A "mostly" canon BattleTech mercenary roleplay for mech enjoyers

@Starlance Glad to see you again Starlance, hopefully this time we'll get to play more than a few posts together haha

We're getting up to a solid Lance's worth of people now, I'll wait maybe a day more to see who else shows up, and then I'll make the OOC and send out the invites to the Discord server. Until then, hang tight and think about your characters everyone :)

Mechwarrior: Disposable Heroes

@AndyC I'll just put my nametag down here for the time being. If things don't work out for Rasalhague RP, you can expect me to see about trying to fit in some Fourth Succession war veteran. Some kinda disgruntled FedSun, that doesn't want no business with the damn Lyrans and their Atlas scout lances

PS: Sorry for the double ping on two threads, but hey, any press is good press as they say :D