Andreyich

All for one for all! | A Warhammer Fantasy Int. Check

Einer für Alle für ein'!

Hey fellas, your boy Andy here coming at you with an interest check for an RP in the WHFB setting. For now this is of course just an interest check and you won't see much of whats to come, but there is already a great deal planned.

Our story will follow the Black Badges, an organization made centuries ago at the behest of Magnus the Pious of the Empire of Sigmar, Teclis of Hoeth, Alexis of Kislev, and Alrik of Karaz-A-Karak in the final meeting before their parting. The Black Badges receive funding from many sources, though primarily from the Empire. Traveling the breadth of the Old World they are an apolitical force on the watch for the forces of Order to strike against the forces of Chaos, Death, and Destruction.

Characters from a wide array of background will be accepted, though they will tend to the golden mean between peasant adventurers yet to take a life and wizards capable of melting hordes of Chosen.

The most important thing I'm looking for in players is reliability. There are only a few truly successful RPs on this website and I intend for this (if it begins) to be added to that collection. If you think you might not be able to dedicate enough time to reliably post twice a month then turn back now. In the past I've been too lenient with people in my RPs, something which I shall try to cut down upon. You don't need to be a super lore nerd about WHFB, but you should be acquainted at least with the very basics of the setting. I'd very much like the interest of three people to get an IC thread up, which will happen a little less than a week after said interest is expressed.

With that, I look forward to hearing from you no-fur manthings.

Heroes of Might and Magic: Defying the Gravekeep

Look! Gaze upon how he crawls through the body that used to be yours....

He sees.

He knows.

He lies....

It would now come to be clear that the two voices going through the boy's head were entirely different ones, the one of the strange Knight seemingly unaware of the whispered one.

As Brandon replied to the mystical man he laughed. Even though he was in the mind of the Lordling he somehow managed to very acutely get across the texture and timbre of the sound of a great amount of phlegm in the laughing throat — a throat that wasn't actually there.

"A threat! No not quite, not blackmail either but close to both. Its not for me I hope. If you don't listen to me you'll only make things harder for the world boy, not to speak of for yourself. What are you going to do dripping in your own blood and the complexion of a snowman? Politely tell dad that you're the same boy he loved and it'll all be okay? But no, I lie. I would hate to be stuck in this helmet for decades more until the right bugger walks by and hefts it on."

A noise emanated from the depths of the boy's consciousness that sounded like a hacking cough.

"I'll answer your questions while we ride, and if there's nothing more urgent to discuss. Better not try to ask me the meaning of life or what is love, though, or so help me I will use all the energies of this body for bale fire to roast your arsecheeks until you're a cinder or a puddle of goop, depending on your humours."

As the boy maanged to properly control the horse and the undead minions there was a sense of approval, almost as if there was a nod at Brandon neatly fitting into new abilities.

"No, I cannot hear your thoughts. Not quite yet, anyway. I can feel you thinking, I see the juices wriggling through your brain though it no longer needs them. I am still learning this body, and once I know its every pore and artery I will be able to see your thoughts. If it so happens you need to speak to me while keeping quiet you may simply mouth your words; I will fill in the sound for myself."

Then came a pause of several minutes as the being contemplated the answer to the young Unicorn's latest question. Indeed Brandon might speak in the intermediate time before the response came but would hear nothing until the fellow was ready.

"You may call me Lord. If that is too much for your sensibilities you may call me Sir Dietrich. Now then, where are we going exactly?"

Is forum Roleplaying beginning to slow down?

As someone born in the 1960’s, I think my generation wrote more. I think we read more too. Now it is more Audiobooks and video clips. The attention span of young people has decreased.

I watch my kids and they have a hard time sitting and reading a book at 13. At that age I would have read 3-4 books. It is change and an exciting new challenge.

@Meleck

Ok boomer

Warhammer 40k: Sons of Titan - A Grey Knights RP

Crashing into the next group of gunners it was only a few spins before they were a pile of dismembered bits. With that the remaining resistance in this part of the open street was rather thin, the few fighters remaining having mere flimsy iron weapons and an occasional stub weapon that wouldn’t even penetrate a Space Marine’s black carapace, let alone their power armour. However, though the enemy here was sparse Olympio knew he was alone and isolated here, and to try fight on solo was an exercise in baseless arrogance; easily a trait let swell by the prince of pleasure’s magics.

Closing the distance to once more return to the comfortable embrace of his Brother’s psychic aura was easy, only a few leaps crossing a great many metres until they were in his sight. As he moved in the message of Bieito came through the vox. Truth be told he was somewhat underwhelmed by the usage of vox instead of telepathic communication. The majority of Grey Knights had at least enough of the aptitude to communicate at the very least with their own squad using their Justicar as a means to help relay the information if needed.

“Noted.” he replied using his mind. The presence of daemons was certainly ominous. It seemed to redeem his foretellings, but that was nothing to be happy about given what it implied. “I am coming to reinforce.” he continued, stomping over. Though grouped up they would be far more vulnerable to heavy weapons of all sorts, it seemed for now the greater part of the eternal enemy’s rabble was culled and their firepower would now be all but negligible. Daemons would now be the main quarry if the report of Bieito was correct and in such a case a tight formation of blades would be optimal rather than the loose slaughter they had previously enacted.

Flourishing his sword, he for now kept between the Justicar and Bieito ready to support - or if needed fall back to - either of his comrades should the enemy try to strike them down one by one.

Checking his heads-up-display to correct his path, he started his march towards the destination of the squad. He had no interest in killing that which later the PDF could clean up when there was a foe more urgent to deal with, thus seeing no purpose in increasing his current kill-tally. For Brother Olympio there was only the objective, and he hoped that his Brothers would join him with haste.

War Never Changes 2 : A Post Nuclear Nation Roleplay

Flavius Valerius Pontificus Augustus Maximus Vulpes Inculta Constantine Invictus Caesar

The Emperor was tired, and was thus walking towards his tent to rest. At many points he was offered the chance to sleep in an air-conditioned building or RV, but he declined all offers preferring the same rolled up canvas of his early service to the Legion.

There was a feint smile upon his face, that brought on by a productive day. The tendrils of the Frumentarii were spreading ever further and the homefront was getting ever more secure. The next day would be fruitful, and the night would be peaceful. Except, it wouldn’t for now. As Vulpes Inculta walked along with a few Praetorians about him his walk was interrupted by the approach of the governor of Colorado.

Vulpes sighed, knowing it was far too late to try to walk around the fellow. Frequently he had to make (admittedly idle) threats to the man for overstepping his bounds, but he was too useful of a man with his little charts and agendas in running his territory. Forcing himself not to sigh, Vulpes nodded to the man. “What is it, Lord Colorado.”

“Ah, my Beloved Emperor, how fortunate it is I came upon you.” the man said, in spite of fortune having played no part in this.

“What is it, Lord?” Vulpes asked impatiently.

“Denver my Lord. I really do think we should revisit the topic.”

“We have gone over this. Unless you have something new to add to the discussion the topic ends in the same way.” Vulpes walked on expecting the man to have nothing of the sort, but he was wrong.

“As a matter of fact my dear Emperor, I do. The cyberdogs? We’ve discovered their source.”

“Elaborate.” Vulpes demanded.

“I’ve ordered all the Frumentarii under my command to scour the city, and though many are now food for the feral hounds they found the sub-basement of a factory in the city to still be operational. How? They cannot determine, but whole batches of cybernetic dogs are released from there daily with no sign of ceasing or stagnation. They are more faster and stronger than ordinary mongrels we breed, they are more durable and are far more efficient with their feed. Where a spear would pierce it’s skull it would be blunted by hardened plastics, where a bullet would burst its innards it may well bounce off of steel. I understand in coming wars against the NCR and other advanced adversaries you wish to retire the use of these dogs. But think of how they may come to be brought upon tribals? But a pack of them would tear through whole villages in our way; indeed, many would have their valour crushed to simply see these monstrosities. Further, given we no longer need the ordinary hounds with our future use of the cyberdogs we will be able to freely use the ferals to feed our troops while they clean out the immediate area and bring the city to life.

“Why do we need the entire city then, Lord? Insofar as I can see we only need the one facility.” For all his capabilities as an administrator Lord Colorado was almost childishly jealous of the other States, and wanted a true capital for his territory.

“Because! If there is a facility operational from before the war in the sub-basement of that factory then what might other sub-basements harbour?”

“We both know that the factory working is a statistical improbability, I can all but guarantee you will not find more working factories yet automated.”

“Of course not my Lord, I have tempered my expectations!”

Doubtful, Vulpes thought, but he let the man finish his thought.

“Of course we won’t find working factories. But consider this, the sub-basements of the area seem well deep enough to not have been so viciously damaged by the ravages of the bombs and the local population of dogs - combined with the radiation of the area - have kept the area clean of scavengers and prospectors ever since nuclear hellfire scoured the Americas. Firearms, electronics, packaged foods, medicine, supplies of all sorts. It is a veritable treasure trove my lord, and if we can restart the production of the cyberdogs we can use them against their feral kind to clean out the city to pick it clean of what it has. Many buildings are in very good shape still and can later be repurposed for purpose ranging from industry to administration and clerical work.”

The desire of the Lord to have a true city under his domain was nauseating. However, his earlier points were at the very least fairly convincing in regards to sending an expedition to the locale. Though he probably shouldn’t have made such a decision at this time and under such conditions, he really was rather eager to get this over with. “Centurion Allarus is under your command. We will discuss the matter further in the morning, dismissed.”

---

Operating Squad "Venus"

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Click

A song started to play on the radio, and it was a fairly nice one. The Frumentarius removed the holotape before placing it in his pip-boy to let the piece start from the top. It really was groovy, even if his active-headset was inverting the noises somewhat.

“Found something, Sir?”

“Just a nice holotape.”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

The Frumentarii exchanged laughter. The Poseidon building had been unfruitful, prospectors long since having picked anything immediately useful from it and they couldn’t find anything relating to Petro Chico as desired. But you know, the holotape made the time feel well spent nevertheless.

They had been up North for quite some time now, about a month ago having left the last areas where the Legion exercised formal control.

Ultimately their aim was to find a band of 80s appropriate to groom into leaders of the greater tribe such that a great force against the NCR may be formed. Alas, it seemed for the moment that they could not find any. Drunkards resting on their laurels were the best they came upon so far, and to be honest the leader of the Frumentarii group was rather disappointed. Perikles was starting to think that they were on a wild goose chase, to be frank. Of course it would be some time before he’d be ready to voice this to his Emperor in comminiques, but nevertheless it was at the forefront of his mind.

After a short lunch the Frumentarii packed up their gear and went towards the exit of the building they were in, until one whistled, making a motion for his comrades to follow to the window he was at. Smoke was being belched in the distance, and soon the sound of a great motor followed. It was a column of bikers moving very, very fast.

“These ones we haven’t seen.”

“Yeah, markings are different. Similar, but not identical.”

“Should we follow them.”

“Yes. Hurry.”

“Copy that.”

The Division | Mao Mao & Andreyich

PENNSYLVANIA PLAZA // JAMES FARLEY POST OFFICE

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Walking along Badger nodded to the soldier who approached them. "Thanks for the heads up." He said, even if he wasn't particularly thankful. "Gotcha."

Following Bates close behind, Badger kept low in a semi-crouch. They were still close to what one could consider safety, but considering that every step brought the team further and further away from it he felt that a little bit of caution now would be justified, especially if later it would pave the ground for some aggression.

Though he hadn't been here before, Don knew this place was supposed to be loud. There was supposed to be the cheering of crowds and the snickering of bookies, there were supposed to be announcements and vendors making their rounds. But this ghost-town? Well... Though not exactly afraid, the Agent certainly was unnerved.

As there was blood on the door to the security room it seemed that the Agent's suspicions of this place being a rat's nest were getting more and more proofs. Nodding as Firefly prepared to breach the room Badger likewise pushed the imaginary foe within, but it turned out the place was uninhabited.

"I don't know." Agent Hayes replied to his partner's question, deciding to search the bodies of the police officers for anything of interest. "But I don't want to stick around for too long to end up just like these two pricks. Let's just make a quick note of this and move on. Time is short, and we need that fuel now."

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Is forum Roleplaying beginning to slow down?

I kind of want to know how Discord RPing works. Isn't there like a post limit? So, would it be similar to Habbo Hotel roleplay rooms (one-lines and/or one-sentences)?

@Mao Mao

Yes it's generally just one liners, although sometimes people will just split up their paragraph into smaller pieces so they can send it without the app getting upset

Is forum Roleplaying beginning to slow down?

Burnout from RPs constantly dying makes people reluctant to start and join them, simple as. Why put the effort in making an entire world or person if you'll only get to do a post or two worth of stuff with them.

Spearhead in the Gap; A WWIII war game (1985)

I'll be working on this tuesdayish