'tis a bit late at night or rather early in the morning so forgive mistakes plz
Andreyich
Member
AS THOUGH A THOUSAND MOUTHS CRY OUT IN PAIN
STATUS: me wanting to play out shit from a setting from around 2010 that only europeans know... 2 mos ago
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- Joined: 10 yrs ago
- Posts: 2378 (0.66 / day)
- VMs: 11
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Username history
- Andreyich 10 yrs ago
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Status
Recent Statuses
2 mos ago
Current
me wanting to play out shit from a setting from around 2010 that only europeans know...
2
likes
2 mos ago
what did he mean by this
6 mos ago
the issue is them king your thread was great (i didnt read it)
1
like
1 yr ago
no fucking way
7
likes
1 yr ago
while tru, quantity != quality, the fact is there's enough good writers out there with diverse enough interests to fit most niches apart from the unrealistically specific i.e. kitten beheading RP
2
likes
Bio
If you enjoy my posts then consider pressing here to see my 1x1 interest check.
About me:
Where do I begin. I'm from Belarus, and fairly proud of it. I've been RPing about a decade starting mostly with chat stuff and some LARPs/reenactments, doing the stuff of this site for maybe half a decade now. I'm a former serviceman, and while I was conscripted I make sure to stay in related circles. As a day job I'm a programmer letting me usually work from home even when we don't have coronavirus forcing us to do so and thus I got a lot of time for RP.
About me:
Where do I begin. I'm from Belarus, and fairly proud of it. I've been RPing about a decade starting mostly with chat stuff and some LARPs/reenactments, doing the stuff of this site for maybe half a decade now. I'm a former serviceman, and while I was conscripted I make sure to stay in related circles. As a day job I'm a programmer letting me usually work from home even when we don't have coronavirus forcing us to do so and thus I got a lot of time for RP.
Most Recent Posts
As John entered the commander's room he saluted, and then dutifully answered all asked questions. The anger in him quickly drained away and luckily for him his face was red already; there was no noticeable change as he calmed down to alert the man.
When all was done he gave a salute the text-book printers would be proud of with a "Sah!" before he left. It was now time for training.
As the recruits were assembled and the Lieutenant spoke a little, the Ouraghos stood but didn't pay attention. It would be the same usual manure spewed to people going off to die and he'd already heard it before, but that time from a real officer with real experience and knowledge to supplement "good breeding" and a title. All was well and good if men used money to get positions but the money should have bought them texts on strategy and swordsmanship, not a pip on your shoulder.
As things were split up the Corporal grinned nastily his new victims. He stepped forth, cleared his throat and spat on the soil before him. "I am Lance-Corporal Ioannis Sveinaldsson, the man to teach you to be real soldiers." He decided not to say the rather amiable, lovey dovey - and absolutely Greek - paternal middle name of "Fabianou," it wouldn't help to ruin the quick image of a modern day Viking.
"First, let me get some things clear. If I say ''ere's your sword, you will eat with it, drink with it, sleep with it...' and so on, do not try to be funny and say 'how? Do we use it as a fork, spoon or pillow?' because I will answer you and you won't like the answer." Rather proud of that line, the Varangian ended on the right side of the line up, spun and started pacing down the other way with arms behind his back. "I'm not here to make your life miserable (that's but a bonus) , I am here to make sure what happened for my ex-comrades in the Mamluk rebellion won't happen to you. Any of you used a weapon before?" He asked. The moment someone replied with 'yes' which they undoubtedly would he'd spin around and shout "No you haven't you stupid git. You've used a toy, you haven't had to properly shoot in combat, or have to slice a bugger's throat lest he try likewise. That is where a sword becomes a weapon, not something to impress the women-folk who weren't already swooned by your filthy gold or lies. If they even have that to be impressed by."
With a little indignant puff the veteran paused and swiveled to face the new men without much apparent movement in his legs. "Oh no you bunch aren't going to be able to learn that here. Most of your filthy hides will be shot or chopped up. But we'll do our best so you at least won't wet yourself... much. We're going to split you up for various parts of the training. You think you just might just be smart enough to manage that? Good."
A little bit of time would pass, before he stamped off to give personal... assistance in training. The first people to get his "help" would be Konyk and the Spaniard. The Lance-Corporal tried to remember what he heard and realized the Eastern looking lad had powers super-natural, and decided that he'd need a more clever way to mess with him lest he realized and decide to get retribution via magics. He turned to the Spaniard and screamed near his ear "A hundred push-ups in a minute, then perform the eighteen-count manual of arms in perfect form and order. You fail, you do it again. You do it right then you can have a drink."
Then, the Varangian squatted down beside him and hissed "You a Catholic, Iberian?" with venom to make a snake envious.
When all was done he gave a salute the text-book printers would be proud of with a "Sah!" before he left. It was now time for training.
As the recruits were assembled and the Lieutenant spoke a little, the Ouraghos stood but didn't pay attention. It would be the same usual manure spewed to people going off to die and he'd already heard it before, but that time from a real officer with real experience and knowledge to supplement "good breeding" and a title. All was well and good if men used money to get positions but the money should have bought them texts on strategy and swordsmanship, not a pip on your shoulder.
As things were split up the Corporal grinned nastily his new victims. He stepped forth, cleared his throat and spat on the soil before him. "I am Lance-Corporal Ioannis Sveinaldsson, the man to teach you to be real soldiers." He decided not to say the rather amiable, lovey dovey - and absolutely Greek - paternal middle name of "Fabianou," it wouldn't help to ruin the quick image of a modern day Viking.
"First, let me get some things clear. If I say ''ere's your sword, you will eat with it, drink with it, sleep with it...' and so on, do not try to be funny and say 'how? Do we use it as a fork, spoon or pillow?' because I will answer you and you won't like the answer." Rather proud of that line, the Varangian ended on the right side of the line up, spun and started pacing down the other way with arms behind his back. "I'm not here to make your life miserable (that's but a bonus) , I am here to make sure what happened for my ex-comrades in the Mamluk rebellion won't happen to you. Any of you used a weapon before?" He asked. The moment someone replied with 'yes' which they undoubtedly would he'd spin around and shout "No you haven't you stupid git. You've used a toy, you haven't had to properly shoot in combat, or have to slice a bugger's throat lest he try likewise. That is where a sword becomes a weapon, not something to impress the women-folk who weren't already swooned by your filthy gold or lies. If they even have that to be impressed by."
With a little indignant puff the veteran paused and swiveled to face the new men without much apparent movement in his legs. "Oh no you bunch aren't going to be able to learn that here. Most of your filthy hides will be shot or chopped up. But we'll do our best so you at least won't wet yourself... much. We're going to split you up for various parts of the training. You think you just might just be smart enough to manage that? Good."
A little bit of time would pass, before he stamped off to give personal... assistance in training. The first people to get his "help" would be Konyk and the Spaniard. The Lance-Corporal tried to remember what he heard and realized the Eastern looking lad had powers super-natural, and decided that he'd need a more clever way to mess with him lest he realized and decide to get retribution via magics. He turned to the Spaniard and screamed near his ear "A hundred push-ups in a minute, then perform the eighteen-count manual of arms in perfect form and order. You fail, you do it again. You do it right then you can have a drink."
Then, the Varangian squatted down beside him and hissed "You a Catholic, Iberian?" with venom to make a snake envious.
So erm, I lied. No post today :(
I'll try to get something before tonight done lads.
<Snipped quote by Andreyich>
Never mind.
I was thinking you could just give me some info on how your character would behave during training, and I could make a reference to it in my post. Like, "Milos was impressed by Ioannis handled the men" or "If the men got too unruly he would have Ioannis deal with them."
Oh rip, sorry these things go over my head. He'd probably a bit unnecessarily rough with them at times insulting them and such but also try to be genuinely helpful like trying to explain well how to roll up a cartridge or the process of loading a rifle.
<Snipped quote by Andreyich>
Tell me more and with your permission I might be able to incorporate it into my post.
What do you mean by that, do you want to give my guy an assignment based off of an interaction or something or...?
Eh, that works. So long as I can make nasty remarks about people and force them to do pull-ups until they crap out a lung
@Not Fishing Oh please can I be given base training duty to bully recruits plz plz plz. Also, perhaps the next post should be a collab between us all? I imagine using piratepad or gdocs or something.
Short but sweet?
In the camp of the Moulden Horde
So sat-sat cross-legged the great Timurrat Khan. He smoked a pipe with a bit of the finest paint scraped off of the wall, ready to speak his wisdom.
"Harken, my sons."
He spake.
"Forty of you are now of age, and at a unique time you-you have matured. Gather round me for much is to be done."
So the young-young rats clustered around his greatness, awaiting his words.
"I underwent my own-own trial, I killed the rat who killed my father, and now-now is the anniversary of then-then."
After a squeak-squeak of memory and the pain of loss, the great Khan continued.
"Now, it is your turn. Taketh some of this paint, put it in the fire and inhale. Then, I want you to go on a quest to find your mount. Find the strength that I and those before me found. Find yourself a beast-beast and only then may you come back. Take some of these blue and white nuts with you, eat-eat if you feel hungry or the connection with the holy flames is waning."
So, they did. They breathed, and breathed. Much loud giggling followed, and then they sit off dancing like ballerinas with happy squeaks as interjections. Some had the sense of mind to bring a bow or food to tame an animal they sought, while others would have to rely on their wit-wits. Some banded together in their wisdom for the flames wanted them to come together to tame. Others did not, and the flame-flames saw they had a higher purpose, so they never returned.
The Khan-Khan sat, and smoke his pipe some more before laying with his wives. He didn't have issues with possibly having to wait-wait for long. He knew the flame-flame was on his side, and the rats would come back to the second layer's wastes, with or without their task done.
So sat-sat cross-legged the great Timurrat Khan. He smoked a pipe with a bit of the finest paint scraped off of the wall, ready to speak his wisdom.
"Harken, my sons."
He spake.
"Forty of you are now of age, and at a unique time you-you have matured. Gather round me for much is to be done."
So the young-young rats clustered around his greatness, awaiting his words.
"I underwent my own-own trial, I killed the rat who killed my father, and now-now is the anniversary of then-then."
After a squeak-squeak of memory and the pain of loss, the great Khan continued.
"Now, it is your turn. Taketh some of this paint, put it in the fire and inhale. Then, I want you to go on a quest to find your mount. Find the strength that I and those before me found. Find yourself a beast-beast and only then may you come back. Take some of these blue and white nuts with you, eat-eat if you feel hungry or the connection with the holy flames is waning."
So, they did. They breathed, and breathed. Much loud giggling followed, and then they sit off dancing like ballerinas with happy squeaks as interjections. Some had the sense of mind to bring a bow or food to tame an animal they sought, while others would have to rely on their wit-wits. Some banded together in their wisdom for the flames wanted them to come together to tame. Others did not, and the flame-flames saw they had a higher purpose, so they never returned.
The Khan-Khan sat, and smoke his pipe some more before laying with his wives. He didn't have issues with possibly having to wait-wait for long. He knew the flame-flame was on his side, and the rats would come back to the second layer's wastes, with or without their task done.
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