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1st person POV is difficult to write well, but it certainly can be done. DIckens proved it twice.
7 yrs ago
Do people actually read these things?
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Bio
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Aliquam posuere ipsum diam, quis tempor arcu congue a. In sapien nulla, ornare at efficitur in, iaculis suscipit mauris. Mauris in tristique felis. Donec non lacus nec ligula placerat convallis vel vel risus. Cras mattis elit arcu, ac condimentum metus consequat sed. Donec iaculis quam a suscipit sollicitudin. Curabitur eros purus, maximus ut eros ut, convallis mollis felis. Maecenas sagittis sem condimentum est tempus egestas. Donec porttitor eleifend eros at ullamcorper. Nunc egestas eros quis efficitur convallis. Vestibulum ante ipsum primis in faucibus orci luctus et ultrices posuere cubilia Curae; Donec tortor nulla, placerat sed porta non, efficitur in augue. Cras auctor dolor ut tortor maximus, vitae tempus elit ullamcorper.
Sed ultricies orci sit amet erat facilisis molestie. Phasellus lorem dui, facilisis eu fermentum eget, feugiat eu dolor. Nulla ut dui auctor, efficitur ipsum a, accumsan dolor. Sed vitae pulvinar orci. Curabitur non arcu lobortis, vehicula lorem nec, fermentum diam. Nullam magna mauris, ullamcorper nec odio in, malesuada pharetra dui. Etiam auctor leo purus, id pulvinar est porta sed. Aliquam pretium orci id magna eleifend, et viverra dui pulvinar. Donec et libero quis nunc malesuada volutpat. Fusce quis nulla eget ante consequat vestibulum quis sed ante. Pellentesque habitant morbi tristique senectus et netus et malesuada fames ac turpis egestas. Curabitur convallis, sapien sit amet pharetra feugiat, mauris ex hendrerit enim, at ultricies libero nisl sed turpis. Fusce eleifend est tellus, et feugiat eros mattis nec. Pellentesque aliquet mattis lectus id egestas.
I've got to go to bed early tonight, so I don't think I'll be getting another post in before tomorrow evening (EST). I wouldn't be put out if y'all did want to move forward toward the battle.
I can just respond to Ren's brash impertinence retrospectively, heh.
Father Jan rose early, before dawn. He slept poorly, and an hour or two more would make little difference. Packing up his meager possessions, he decided that a little practice was in order. Eschewing cassock and cloak to better free his movements, he staked out a position at the edge of the camp.
Sword and shield in hand, he engaged in the simple drills he had learned long ago. He was pleasantly surprised at how quickly it all came back to him, how natural swordplay still felt to him. His timing was a little off, maybe, and he was a touch slower than he once was. But he was nearly as hale and hardy as he was in his prime.
Advance, sidestroke. Block, backstroke. Double back, feint, and upstroke. And anon, until the sun rose, waking the rest of the camp.
Jan joined the forming line, taking a place toward the front. Still without his cassock and cloak, he was clothed only by a short, sleeveless tunic and trousers. His shirt of dark mail gave him something of the look of a warrior, however.
The Priest listened, bemused, to the proposed strategy of their commander. Though surprised, he was not the least upset to see him cast down by the man who called himself Silas. Evidently a comrade of last night's false penitent, he was now in charge. For better or worse. For better, though, it would seem. The new plan was much more reasonable. And, though not given the horse he had hoped for, he knew better than to question their new leader in front of their mostly green troops. They needed to believe the new strategy was utterly unimpeachable.
That in mind, Jan fell in to his appointed position in the current formation, at the center left. He drew his sword. It was a little old, the blade in need of burnishing, but it seemed to be of rather fine make. Along with his mail, it was his last physical connection to his time with the Broken Blades. The hilt was inlaid with silver, and the grip well-worked leather.
Lifting his sword into the air, he called out to the squad assigned to him.
“To me, you lot. Look sharp! I reckon I am the most battle-tested among ye. Try to stay behind me, and attack by my flank.”
He stopped to count his little group.
“That's three of you. There should be a fourth- A woman in strange dress. A warlock, or some such, I think. Where is she?..”
Father Jan listened impassively as the stranger spoke. His offer seemed most intriguing. But he could not take up with another band of mercenaries. That part of his life was over. He had new duties. He would surely be reassigned to a new congregation, or kept on at his Order's motherhouse to do administrative work. Many of the priests could hardly read, and there was always more bookkeeping to do than there was men to do it. He was going to tell the stranger as much, as he started to walk away.
“Aye!” The priest called after the man instead. It just slipped out. And it kept slipping out.
“Find me horse, lance, and helm, before the battle tomorrow. Then my service ye shall win!”
Oh, what the Hell?
Jan could simply write to his Superior General of his exceptional opportunity to minister the faith to these godless heathens, and anyone else they meet. It would be criminal not to provide Mankind's last line of defense with even one chaplain. He would go along with that, wouldn't he? Of course he would. If not, well- Jan could just contest the issue and bring it to the Ecclesiastical Court. That pack of glorified bureaucrats could spend years dealing with it.
During his time studying, Jan had heard the Court once spent three years on a case, trying to decide whether or not to defrock a priest for stealing bread for a family of peasants. The matter had become moot before a decision could be rendered, as the priest in question had died. It was decided in the end that it would be inappropriate to punish a dead man.
Reasoning that it was rather late enough, the priest decided it was time to retire for the night. It seemed that he had no more confessions to hear, and that beside his evening had been sufficiently exciting.
Coming to his appointed spot, he knelt beside his bedroll. He took into his hands the silver medal about his neck. It was a simple thing, a little spoked wheel, with a star at its center. A reminder of eternity, and the light that shines on even in the darkness that often accompanies it. And Jan prayed solemnly, head bowed. He spoke the words he had first heard long ago, long before his life was marred by slaughter and death, and before he had come to appreciate that which lay beyond these things.
“Oremus.” He began, with the traditional call to prayer. “In principio erat Verbum et Verbum erat apud Deum et Deus erat Verbum. hoc erat in principio apud Deum. Omnia per ipsum facta sunt et sine ipso factum est nihil quod factum est. In ipso vita erat et vita erat lux hominum.”
He became nearly overcome with emotion then, recalling the next line. It was strange that it never struck him so before. Very strange.
“Et lux in tenebris lucet et tenebrae eam non conprehenderunt.”
And the light shineth in darkness: and the darkness did not overcome it.
With that thought, the priest climbed into bed and fell to sleep.
Jan warmed himself by the fire, trying to savor the moments of peace while they lasted. He had hoped for more penitents, though he had done what he could to console those that had come to him. To lift the sinful burdens from their shoulders, to give them a little solace. In all honesty, it was not probably so hopeless for these peasant militiamen if they could reasonably hope to survive. For green, lightly armed men, the real trick was morale. That is what holds a spear line. Inspiration. And discipline, though, admittedly, they were a little light on that front. Hopefully the smattering of more experienced soldiers would even the odds a little. The priest had seen ploughboys fight fearlessly when alongside knights and seasoned warriors. Was it a desire to appear manful before the veterans, or confidence that those veterans were invincible?
Becoming lost in his memories, weighing this skirmish against that siege, Jan almost didn't notice Dixon approach him. The fellow was rather tall and well-built, with a scar on his face. A seasoned soldier, to be sure. Probably a sellsword. He didn't have the look of a legionary.
At first, he assumed the man to be another penitent. His tone told him different, however, and Jan frowned with visible annoyance.
“I believe you may have the wrong idea of the sacrament.” the priest replied, seizing the flask and taking a heavy swig. A practiced drinker would have noticed a kinsman.
“It only counts if you're actually sorry for what you did. I suspect you are rather proud of yourself- so, no absolution.”
he passed the flask back to his visitor after taking a second swig, considering his words for a space.
“And there is nothing you could tell me that would frighten me. I did not come into this world with this cassock on, nor did I spend my boyhood singing in the choir. I was the right-hand to Mortain the Black of the Broken Blades when you were no more than a glint in your father's eye.
“I lied, gambled, cheated, murdered, stole, blasphemed, and lay with many beau-”
Jan broke off suddenly, realizing he was rambling. And probably amusing his would-be penitent. He cleared his throat, attempting to return to his usual clerical decorum.
“But my point is, I'm not proud of it.”
He did not imagine he was very convincing on that count.
Jan Oremus had trudged along with the rest of the one hundred that day. He had protested this mistreatment, insisting that he was far more use on horseback. They had horses enough to spare, aye, but none for an old priest. Likely the quartermaster had not believed his claim to military experience. He had probably never heard of the Broken Blades, and Jan could not honestly say he was surprised. Mortain's men were never great in number, and it was many years ago now since he had ridden boldly across the Empire.
After camp was made, the commander had made what he must have imagined was an inspiring address. It did not seem to move the troops much, and Jan was with them in that regard. If the orcish band was as large as he had heard, it would be a difficult fight. He could only hope this commander was a better tactician than he was an orator, else there would be great losses.
In any event the priest knew his duty, and went readily about it. Sword at his side and shield at his back, he staked out a position at the edge of the camp, and began to preach a brief sermon he had prepared to those that might be bothered to hear it. He was wearing his black cassock and cloak, and a solemn look stole over his countenance. He was, for once, quite sober, and glad of it.
“Brothers and sisters!” he called out loudly, throwing his hands dramatically to the sky before folding them passively at his waist.
“Children of Men! Before us stands a vicious and cruel enemy. What have they robbed you of already? Your lands? Your livelihoods? Your brothers, your sisters, your husbands, your wives? Shall they pass us unchallenged, as wolves among sheep?
“Hold true to the Creator, God of your fathers, and no mortal force shall overcome you. Keep in your heart the memory of what you have lost, and what you may yet lose, and stand fast in defense of what is ours.”
He paused, composing himself after his inflamed recitation.
“I will be hearing confessions later tonight, for the interested.”
With his religious guidance, such as it was, dispensed, he made his way toward one of the fire pits. There seemed to be some interesting characters thereabout, and so at first he said nothing, but listened quietly.
Appearance: Father Jan is a fair-skinned human with brown eyes and graying black hair. Not physically imposing, he is of middling height but is possessed of an athletic build. His large nose, which seems to have been broken repeatedly over the years, and his notable lack of several teeth would generally preclude him from the label 'handsome.'
He is very rarely seen wearing anything other than a simple black cassock, a matching cloak, a shirt of blackened mail beneath, and a worn-out pair of cavalry boots. Around his neck shines a silver emblem of his faith. He often smells faintly, though sometimes strongly, of wine, ale, or whatever sort of alcohol he has managed to lay his hands on.
Bio: Jan was born to a family of free peasant farmers in the heartlands of the Empire. The youngest of three sons, he was apprenticed to the local blacksmith, and spent several years under the tutelage of a man that may have been the worst smith in the country. Wearying of life with an incompetent and cruel master, he ran away at the age of fifteen to join a passing mercenary band, the Broken Blades.
For many years Jan rode with the Broken Blades and their captain, Mortain the Black- so called for the blackened armor he and the rest of his men wore. Serving first repairing and maintaining equipment and later as a man-at-arms, Jan grew to adulthood amid the blood and the din of battle. He found that the soldier's life suited him very well, and he rose over the years to become a lieutenant to Mortain, commanding the light cavalry.
Twenty years after he had first joined the Broken Blades, what was supposed to have been a routine skirmish quickly degenerated into a slaughter. The company was under orders to turn back an orcish raiding party, though it would happen that the 'raiding party' was in fact the vanguard for a much larger force which significantly outmatched the small mercenary band. Mortain, his bodyguard retinue, and the infantry were rapidly encircled. Jan and his light cavalry attempted to punch a hole in the orcish flank and create an exit for his comrades, but to naught.
What little remained of the Broken Blades fled at the death of their captain, dissipating into the countryside. The organization that Jan had spent his life working for, building up, had simply ceased to exist. All he had to show for his time was a ravaged set of teeth and a somewhat disfigured nose. He spent most of the next decade drunk and waiting for death. He briefly took up adventuring, finding his skill set well-suited to the work. At the age of forty-six, while defending a monastery devoted to Ristoth and the monks and laypeople sheltering inside of it, he experienced a religious awakening. He was quite convinced The Creator spoke directly to him, urging him to mend his wicked ways and live righteously. Once his job was complete, he entered the seminary and trained zealously for the priesthood.
Upon completion of his training, Jan was dispatched to a small village near the fringe of the Dread Desert, not far from Blackstone Fortress. In time he learned to let go of the rage and the hatred in his heart, and came even to love his little flock. He felt like a man reborn, and would have gladly ended his days there in peace.
Unfortunately, an invading orcish clan has destroyed the village, and Father Jan, along with the other survivors, have been pressed into service with the militia. His lack of enthusiasm with this new state of affairs has resulted in a return to drink, though he is eager to repay the monsters that have again ruined him for their trouble.
Fighting Style: Jan fights best from horseback with sword and lance, and, though his skill has rusted significantly, he has not forgotten the basics.
Equipment: Old arming sword, scavenged shield, dirk, holy text, and a shirt of blackened mail.
1. Listen to the GM(s), If you have a complaint tell me. I am not an evil dictator and if I am wrong I will admit it. 2. Romance and Gore allowed, But keep it in good taste and in site rules 3. Now not all characters will play nice with each other I understand that, but keep the disputes in the RP not in OOC 4. Be civilized and polite please 5. All basic RP rules apply to this roleplay: Power playing, Meta gaming, and others are not allowed. 6. The story isn't exactly set, If you have an idea for a mission feel free to pm me the details and I'll try to work it in. 7. Copy the rules into a Hider in the "other" of your cs so I know you read them. 8. Get into your character's skin become him or her as you are playing have fun and give us insight into their thoughts. 9. Try to keep active, in both the IC and OOC pages please. And even if you don't have anything to say, at least read the OOC
Here we are. Sorry I rambled quite a bit with the bio.
I may have taken a couple of small liberties with the setting background. If you don't like anything just let me know and I can change it. Particularly, I mentioned my character living in a village near Blackstone Fortress which was just destroyed, since that would give him a good reason to be there. That's cool, right?
Name: Jan Oremus, Priest of Ristoth
Gender: Male
Age: 53
Appearance: Father Jan is a fair-skinned human with brown eyes and graying black hair. Not physically imposing, he is of middling height but is possessed of an athletic build. His large nose, which seems to have been broken repeatedly over the years, and his notable lack of several teeth would generally preclude him from the label 'handsome.'
He is very rarely seen wearing anything other than a simple black cassock, a matching cloak, a shirt of blackened mail beneath, and a worn-out pair of cavalry boots. Around his neck shines a silver emblem of his faith (whatever that might be, unless you want me to make one up). He often smells faintly, though sometimes strongly, of wine, ale, or whatever sort of alcohol he has managed to lay his hands on.
Bio: Jan was born to a family of free peasant farmers in the heartlands of the Empire. The youngest of three sons, he was apprenticed to the local blacksmith, and spent several years under the tutelage of a man that may have been the worst smith in the country. Wearying of life with an incompetent and cruel master, he ran away at the age of fifteen to join a passing mercenary band, the Broken Blades.
For many years Jan rode with the Broken Blades and their captain, Mortain the Black- so called for the blackened armor he and the rest of his men wore. Serving first repairing and maintaining equipment and later as a man-at-arms, Jan grew to adulthood amid the blood and the din of battle. He found that the soldier's life suited him very well, and he rose over the years to become a lieutenant to Mortain, commanding the light cavalry.
Twenty years after he had first joined the Broken Blades, what was supposed to have been a routine skirmish quickly degenerated into a slaughter. The company was under orders to turn back an orcish raiding party, though it would happen that the 'raiding party' was in fact the vanguard for a much larger force which significantly outmatched the small mercenary band. Mortain, his bodyguard retinue, and the infantry were rapidly encircled. Jan and his light cavalry attempted to punch a hole in the orcish flank and create an exit for his comrades, but to naught.
What little remained of the Broken Blades fled at the death of their captain, dissipating into the countryside. The organization that Jan had spent his life working for, building up, had simply ceased to exist. All he had to show for his time was a ravaged set of teeth and a somewhat disfigured nose. He spent most of the next decade drunk and waiting for death. He briefly took up adventuring, finding his skill set well-suited to the work. At the age of forty-six, while defending a monastery devoted to Ristoth and the monks and laypeople sheltering inside of it, he experienced a religious awakening. He was quite convinced The Creator spoke directly to him, urging him to mend his wicked ways and live righteously. Once his job was complete, he entered the seminary and trained zealously for the priesthood.
Upon completion of his training, Jan was dispatched to a small village near the fringe of the Dread Desert, not far from Blackstone Fortress. In time he learned to let go of the rage and the hatred in his heart, and came even to love his little flock. He felt like a man reborn, and would have gladly ended his days there in peace.
Unfortunately, an invading orcish clan has destroyed the village, and Father Jan, along with the other survivors, have been pressed into service with the militia. His lack of enthusiasm with this new state of affairs has resulted in a return to drink, though he is eager to repay the monsters that have again ruined him for their trouble.
Fighting Style: Jan fights best from horseback with sword and lance, and, though his skill has rusted significantly, he has not forgotten the basics.
Equipment: Old arming sword, scavenged shield, dirk, holy text, and a shirt of blackened mail.
1. Listen to the GM(s), If you have a complaint tell me. I am not an evil dictator and if I am wrong I will admit it. 2. Romance and Gore allowed, But keep it in good taste and in site rules 3. Now not all characters will play nice with each other I understand that, but keep the disputes in the RP not in OOC 4. Be civilized and polite please 5. All basic RP rules apply to this roleplay: Power playing, Meta gaming, and others are not allowed. 6. The story isn't exactly set, If you have an idea for a mission feel free to pm me the details and I'll try to work it in. 7. Copy the rules into a Hider in the "other" of your cs so I know you read them. 8. Get into your character's skin become him or her as you are playing have fun and give us insight into their thoughts. 9. Try to keep active, in both the IC and OOC pages please. And even if you don't have anything to say, at least read the OOC
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Integer vitae dapibus diam, quis dictum nisi. Vestibulum pretium tempus auctor. Donec fringilla dignissim ligula, tincidunt rutrum elit tincidunt eu. Fusce hendrerit interdum libero quis ullamcorper. Nullam elementum varius fermentum. Sed et justo et velit vulputate tempor. Suspendisse auctor cursus libero consectetur aliquam. Etiam at sollicitudin dolor. Cum sociis natoque penatibus et magnis dis parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. Phasellus maximus tempus odio vel lobortis. Phasellus sollicitudin posuere eros at auctor. Donec feugiat viverra odio, at tristique ex lacinia et. Sed bibendum sodales iaculis. Vestibulum tempus ipsum non nunc consequat, quis convallis urna tincidunt. Donec rhoncus in sapien sit amet efficitur.
Aliquam posuere ipsum diam, quis tempor arcu congue a. In sapien nulla, ornare at efficitur in, iaculis suscipit mauris. Mauris in tristique felis. Donec non lacus nec ligula placerat convallis vel vel risus. Cras mattis elit arcu, ac condimentum metus consequat sed. Donec iaculis quam a suscipit sollicitudin. Curabitur eros purus, maximus ut eros ut, convallis mollis felis. Maecenas sagittis sem condimentum est tempus egestas. Donec porttitor eleifend eros at ullamcorper. Nunc egestas eros quis efficitur convallis. Vestibulum ante ipsum primis in faucibus orci luctus et ultrices posuere cubilia Curae; Donec tortor nulla, placerat sed porta non, efficitur in augue. Cras auctor dolor ut tortor maximus, vitae tempus elit ullamcorper.
Sed ultricies orci sit amet erat facilisis molestie. Phasellus lorem dui, facilisis eu fermentum eget, feugiat eu dolor. Nulla ut dui auctor, efficitur ipsum a, accumsan dolor. Sed vitae pulvinar orci. Curabitur non arcu lobortis, vehicula lorem nec, fermentum diam. Nullam magna mauris, ullamcorper nec odio in, malesuada pharetra dui. Etiam auctor leo purus, id pulvinar est porta sed. Aliquam pretium orci id magna eleifend, et viverra dui pulvinar. Donec et libero quis nunc malesuada volutpat. Fusce quis nulla eget ante consequat vestibulum quis sed ante. Pellentesque habitant morbi tristique senectus et netus et malesuada fames ac turpis egestas. Curabitur convallis, sapien sit amet pharetra feugiat, mauris ex hendrerit enim, at ultricies libero nisl sed turpis. Fusce eleifend est tellus, et feugiat eros mattis nec. Pellentesque aliquet mattis lectus id egestas.
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><br><br>Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Integer vitae dapibus diam, quis dictum nisi. Vestibulum pretium tempus auctor. Donec fringilla dignissim ligula, tincidunt rutrum elit tincidunt eu. Fusce hendrerit interdum libero quis ullamcorper. Nullam elementum varius fermentum. Sed et justo et velit vulputate tempor. Suspendisse auctor cursus libero consectetur aliquam. Etiam at sollicitudin dolor. Cum sociis natoque penatibus et magnis dis parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. Phasellus maximus tempus odio vel lobortis. Phasellus sollicitudin posuere eros at auctor. Donec feugiat viverra odio, at tristique ex lacinia et. Sed bibendum sodales iaculis. Vestibulum tempus ipsum non nunc consequat, quis convallis urna tincidunt. Donec rhoncus in sapien sit amet efficitur.<br><br>Aliquam posuere ipsum diam, quis tempor arcu congue a. In sapien nulla, ornare at efficitur in, iaculis suscipit mauris. Mauris in tristique felis. Donec non lacus nec ligula placerat convallis vel vel risus. Cras mattis elit arcu, ac condimentum metus consequat sed. Donec iaculis quam a suscipit sollicitudin. Curabitur eros purus, maximus ut eros ut, convallis mollis felis. Maecenas sagittis sem condimentum est tempus egestas. Donec porttitor eleifend eros at ullamcorper. Nunc egestas eros quis efficitur convallis. Vestibulum ante ipsum primis in faucibus orci luctus et ultrices posuere cubilia Curae; Donec tortor nulla, placerat sed porta non, efficitur in augue. Cras auctor dolor ut tortor maximus, vitae tempus elit ullamcorper.<br><br>Sed ultricies orci sit amet erat facilisis molestie. Phasellus lorem dui, facilisis eu fermentum eget, feugiat eu dolor. Nulla ut dui auctor, efficitur ipsum a, accumsan dolor. Sed vitae pulvinar orci. Curabitur non arcu lobortis, vehicula lorem nec, fermentum diam. Nullam magna mauris, ullamcorper nec odio in, malesuada pharetra dui. Etiam auctor leo purus, id pulvinar est porta sed. Aliquam pretium orci id magna eleifend, et viverra dui pulvinar. Donec et libero quis nunc malesuada volutpat. Fusce quis nulla eget ante consequat vestibulum quis sed ante. Pellentesque habitant morbi tristique senectus et netus et malesuada fames ac turpis egestas. Curabitur convallis, sapien sit amet pharetra feugiat, mauris ex hendrerit enim, at ultricies libero nisl sed turpis. Fusce eleifend est tellus, et feugiat eros mattis nec. Pellentesque aliquet mattis lectus id egestas. </div>
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