Awesomoman64

Graveyard Orbit

It was always better to let others do the work. At least that’s what Larce told himself as Neri and Ja-mez volunteered to take on the task of stealing what clothes they could and begging for the rest. Even if it meant kicking it with a dazed ragon, Larce was happy to hang back and relax. Yet as he watched the pair walk farther and farther away, he couldn’t help but dwell on his part in convincing them of this plan. Not to mention Neri was right, dhasath tended to look after one another, and he was the only other one in this motley crew. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he should have gone with them. And it seemed he wasn’t the only one. Spontaneously the “political dissident” practically bolted towards them.

“Hold up.” Larce called out to the kiel before he had gotten too far. The dhasath began jogging towards him, taking one last long drag from his cigarette before flicking it away. “I’ll go with ya. We gotta keep to the buddy system, right?”

Graveyard Orbit

@GeminiChaos

A sly smile crawled across Larce’s face as one of the humans approached to take him up on his earlier offer, as well as give her thoughts on his half baked plan. There were holes she was quick to point out, but Larce didn’t mind. All this was off the top of his head anyway. More importantly, Willingness to offer constructive feedback meant willingness to work together, which, as the only other dhasath had pointed out, was exactly what they needed right now.

“Like I said,” In one hand Larce removed a cigarette from the pack and handed it to CJ, and with a flick of the flint in the other hand, Larce ignited the lighter’s flame and held it for her to use. “Not perfect, but I still think it’s our best shot.”

@Dyelli Beybi

To no surprise, Larce raised his hand when the vote for a dishonest approach was called.

“You know, I've actually tried the tax inspector ruse before. Ended up with full access to their books and everything. Unfortunately the discrepancies I found were the result of city officials skimming from the top. Triggered a full scale investigation into their finances and a massive restructure. Had to bail before I drew anymore attention, but they did offer me a treasury position before I left. Benefits would have been nice, but I don't think I could have made the hours work.”

Graveyard Orbit

While the others began to congregate and formulate a plan, Larce lingered a bit longer. Eyes to the sky watching as the prison ship became smaller and smaller until it was nothing more than a spec in the clouds. His concentration was finally broken by a chuckle. “Guess the coast is clear.”

His hands dug into his pockets, and quietly produced a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Neither object had been in his possession previously, but after a ‘stumble’ into one of the guards who was in such a rush to get them off, both had found their way into his jumpsuit. Not wasting anymore time, he gave the pack a gentle tap then placed one of the cigarettes between his lips. A quick flick from the lighter and the smell of nicotine joined whatever other odors were permeating around the former inmates.

Some might not have appreciated the secondhand smoke, but for Larce, that first drag meant everything. No more cramped metal cages. No more 24/7 monitoring to ensure strict rules were being followed. The miserable restricted lifetime of imprisonment that awaited them had vanished with the ship. And while the blazing desert of Caldera-3 might not have been the ideal starting point, the path before them was now open to be whatever they wanted.

Larce let out a single puff of smoke before admiring the lit embers of the cigarette in his fingers. ”That right there. That’s the taste of freedom.“ he smirked to himself.

“Anyone else want to celebrate our early release?” The dhasath raised the pack of smokes high, pointing at each person as he scanned for interested reactions. When his gaze was drawn to Molybdenum, Larce jumped back slightly at the ghastly image inside the helmet. “Whoa. Maybe not you, spacesuit. Looks like you’ve had too many already.”

A skeleton operating in a spacesuit was already a strange sight to behold, but just as Larce had started to process the being before him, the sounds of mechanical whirring pulled his attention to the tarp behind him. An android emerged from beneath, and once again Larce was taken aback by the new face. Not because it was replaced with something disturbing, but because it lacked one entirely. Yet despite missing an entire head, the machine effortlessly spoke. A lot.

Larce wasn’t usually one to get tongue tied, but at the moment, his entire vocabulary had escaped him. As the two odd beings introduced themselves and joined the rest of the inmates, Larce simply stood still. Struggling to find any words, he instead took another drag from his cigarette, then looked back to the sky and muttered to himself, “What in the maker’s name was on that ship?”

In time the shock wore off. After enough eavesdropping on the conversations, at long last he strolled over to others. Leaning against one of the rocks, he casually dropped his two cents on the matter.

“As much as I love this ‘snatch and grab clothes’ plan, Castleton here is on to something. There’s not exactly a small number of us. We’re either gonna be swiping someone’s entire wardrobe, or making several stops across the place. Either one is probably going to raise suspicion. Tack on a bunch of outsiders rolling up after a republic prison ship made a sudden detour here, and it won’t be long before the locals put two and two together.”

“However,” the thief pushed himself away from the rock and began pacing around as he explained his idea. “If a couple of us wander into town as down on their luck vagrants asking for clothing donations and work, I’m sure some kind souls would be happy to hand over a few outfits. Then if those of us who stayed behind just happen to come into possession of some other outfits, well who’s to say they weren’t accidentally donated as well? Gives us an excuse to play ignorant to any claims of theft, and worst case we just give anything back as an ‘honest mistake’. It’s not a perfect plan, but I’d say it’s our best shot at this ‘mining’ operation.”

By the time he finished laying out his suggestion, Larce had made a full circle back to where he had stood at the beginning. Reassuming his shoulder lean against the rock, it dawned on him that he had failed to give a proper introduction. “Name’s Larce Feru, by the way. No ranks or fancy titles, just Larce.”

Graveyard Orbit

Larce Feru

Character Description

Name: Larce Feru
Species: Dhasath
Sex: Male
Age: 27

Reason for being on the ship: Fraud, larceny, grand larceny, grand theft auto, impersonation of military personnel, impersonation of a health care professional, impersonation of [continued on next page]

Appearance: Though technically 6’1”, Larce often slouches or hangs around in a relaxed pose making his height difficult to judge. He takes immense pride in his appearance. Even in the middle of nowhere he keeps his face completely clean shaven and his jet black hair well maintained, slicked back with whatever product he can get his hands on to give full view to his shimmering dark brown eyes. Outside of any disguises, his preference is for well fitted and tailored suits. Though given his current situation, he’ll settle for anything that’s not a burlap sack.

Strengths and Weaknesses

Skills:

• Silver Tongue - Any time at any occasion, Larce just knows what to say and how to say it. He could calm a raging Ragon, sweet talk his way through Kiellar command, and weave such elaborate stories even he can’t tell which parts are true or not.
• Master of disguise - Larce can assume any facade and never break character. All he needs is a part to play and maybe some costume supplies and he’ll become a whole new person.
• Slight of hand - With a wave of his hand or a flick of his wrist, Larce can change the suit of a card, pull a coin from behind someone’s ear (or more likely their pocket), and conjure a weapon seemingly out of thin air.

Weaknesses:

• Float like a butterfly, sting also like a butterfly - Dodging punches is one thing, but throwing them? Not exactly Larce’s strong suit. Unless he has a weapon of some kind, Larce is better off avoiding a fight.
• Gambling? I’m in! - Wagers, Games of chance, both are incredibly enticing to Larce, especially when he knows how to tilt the odds in his favor. It’s hard for him to ever turn down a bet, even when it is not the time or place.
• My fingers were crossed! - Honor and integrity are foreign concepts to Larce. As long as he stands to gain from it, there is no word he won't go back on or bond he won't break.

Background:

Backstory:

The hustle was always the same: Enter a new system. Case every casino or gambling ring. Identify marks, typically people with more money than brains, then build connections with said marks while slowly bleeding them and the establishments dry. Keep up appearances until an opportunity to separate either from a significant amount of their wealth arises, or they start to catch wise. Either way it all ended the same; Take the loot, skip town, repeat.

It was a wild, dangerous, and reckless way to live, but it was never boring. Exactly how Larce Feru wanted it.

Of course, it would be near impossible to disappear if the powers in the galaxy were organized, but thankfully chaos was king around here. None of the governing factions were cooperating and syndicates were afraid to step out of their territories. It meant making a clean getaway was as easy as hopping to the next state or system and laying low for a while. Then when the cash started to run out, it was time to take it from the top.

After striking it big in the Republic of Sedathnas, Larce couldn’t help but take note of the shabling state the neighboring Mazdhul Republic had found itself in. It would be almost too easy to slip in and get to work, which is exactly what he did.

Maybe the scheme had gotten too stale. Maybe it was a trap set by someone Larce wronged years ago. Or maybe his luck had finally run out. Whatever the case, Larce found that this payday wasn’t the easy take he believed.

Thanks to Admiral Tindrurr, the once splintered state came together almost spontaneously. The borders were practically locked down to prevent any further invasion from neighboring systems, and with anarchist panic taking hold of the remaining Mazdhul planets, their first order of business was to crack down on any suspicious activity or individuals.

It was inevitable Larce would end up on their radar. With nowhere to go or anyone to turn to, the gambler was quickly apprehended by Mazdhul authorities and tossed into an interrogation room. Though he may not have been directly linked to any anarchist groups, with his rap sheet it didn’t matter. A trail wasn’t even necessary. They simply wanted him locked in a cell and forgotten. After being passed around several facilities, Larce found himself on one last ship ride to what would be his final destination. but lady luck it seems was still on Larce’s side after all.

Graveyard Orbit

Larce Feru

Character Description

Name: Larce Feru
Species: Dhasath
Sex: Male
Age: 27

Reason for being on the ship: Fraud, larceny, grand larceny, grand theft auto, impersonation of military personnel, impersonation of a health care professional, impersonation of [continued on next page]

Appearance: Though technically 6’1”, Larce often slouches or hangs around in a relaxed pose making his height difficult to judge. He takes immense pride in his appearance. Even in the middle of nowhere he keeps his face completely clean shaven and his jet black hair well maintained, slicked back with whatever product he can get his hands on to give full view to his shimmering dark brown eyes. Outside of any disguises, his preference is for well fitted and tailored suits. Though given his current situation, he’ll settle for anything that’s not a burlap sack.

Strengths and Weaknesses

Skills:

• Silver Tongue - Any time at any occasion, Larce just knows what to say and how to say it. He could calm a raging Ragon, sweet talk his way through Kiellar command, and weave such elaborate stories even he can’t tell which parts are true or not.
• Master of disguise - Larce can assume any facade and never break character. All he needs is a part to play and maybe some costume supplies and he’ll become a whole new person.
• Slight of hand - With a wave of his hand or a flick of his wrist, Larce can change the suit of a card, pull a coin from behind someone’s ear (or more likely their pocket), and conjure a weapon seemingly out of thin air.

Weaknesses:

• Float like a butterfly, sting also like a butterfly - Dodging punches is one thing, but throwing them? Not exactly Larce’s strong suit. Unless he has a weapon of some kind, Larce is better off avoiding a fight.
• Gambling? I’m in! - Wagers, Games of chance, both are incredibly enticing to Larce, especially when he knows how to tilt the odds in his favor. It’s hard for him to ever turn down a bet, even when it is not the time or place.
• My fingers were crossed! - Honor and integrity are foreign concepts to Larce. As long as he stands to gain from it, there is no word he won't go back on or bond he won't break.

Background:

Backstory:

The hustle was always the same: Enter a new system. Case every casino or gambling ring. Identify marks, typically people with more money than brains, then build connections with said marks while slowly bleeding them and the establishments dry. Keep up appearances until an opportunity to separate either from a significant amount of their wealth arises, or they start to catch wise. Either way it all ended the same; Take the loot, skip town, repeat.

It was a wild, dangerous, and reckless way to live, but it was never boring. Exactly how Larce Feru wanted it.

Of course, it would be near impossible to disappear if the powers in the galaxy were organized, but thankfully chaos was king around here. None of the governing factions were cooperating and syndicates were afraid to step out of their territories. It meant making a clean getaway was as easy as hopping to the next state or system and laying low for a while. Then when the cash started to run out, it was time to take it from the top.

After striking it big in the Republic of Sedathnas, Larce couldn’t help but take note of the shabling state the neighboring Mazdhul Republic had found itself in. It would be almost too easy to slip in and get to work, which is exactly what he did.

Maybe the scheme had gotten too stale. Maybe it was a trap set by someone Larce wronged years ago. Or maybe his luck had finally run out. Whatever the case, Larce found that this payday wasn’t the easy take he believed.

Thanks to Admiral Tindrurr, the once splintered state came together almost spontaneously. The borders were practically locked down to prevent any further invasion from neighboring systems, and with anarchist panic taking hold of the remaining Mazdhul planets, their first order of business was to crack down on any suspicious activity or individuals.

It was inevitable Larce would end up on their radar. With nowhere to go or anyone to turn to, the gambler was quickly apprehended by Mazdhul authorities and tossed into an interrogation room. Though he may not have been directly linked to any anarchist groups, with his rap sheet it didn’t matter. A trail wasn’t even necessary. They simply wanted him locked in a cell and forgotten. After being passed around several facilities, Larce found himself on one last ship ride to what would be his final destination. but lady luck it seems was still on Larce’s side after all.

Sword and Dungeon: An Adventurer's Guild-based Fantasy RP

No worries! I appreciate how much consideration you put into this decision. If you ever decide to open up another slot or one becomes available just let me know 🙂

Sword and Dungeon: An Adventurer's Guild-based Fantasy RP

Submitting to the council for judgement. (Might spruce up the formatting later.)

Admittedly he's more of a cleric than a paladin, but I wasn't certain if there was a distinction between those in this world.

Moon Knight. No, not that one.

Name: Richter Chevalier
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Rank: Iron
Appearance:
Standing at 5’10”, Richter constantly maintains a dignified posture scarcely ever even allowing his shoulders to slouch. His golden blond hair is kept short, falling just below his icy blue eyes often giving a soft or gentle smile. Speaking of, Richter’s clean shaven face is the only bit of his pale skin visible as the rest is covered in armor draped in the blue and white of Mayon. If the religious garb didn’t give it away, the large rose resting against a crescent moon embroidered on his cloak would certainly confirm Richter’s beliefs. That or the moon rose amulet always hanging from his neck.

Personality:
A holy stick in the mud, Richter is a man of focus and determination. When there is a job to do, Richter will see to it that it is done properly and within the guidelines of the guild. Anyone who steps out of line can expect a lecture waiting for them. Though it will be very calm and composed as he is never one to get angry, just disappointed. This by the book approach may give the impression he is married to the rules, but the truth is far from. Each mission, the guild, even Mayon herself fall short of first on his priorities. For Richter, the safety and well being of his team come before all. Simply put; Richter only enforces the rules as he has found following them is the best way to keep everyone alive.

In downtime or off duty, Richter is still a bit overprotective. Attentive to everyone’s needs, he takes it upon himself to ensure the party is at full strength in body and mind. He means well of course, but recognizes he can overstep in this regard. Should anyone express discomfort he will immediately rein it in. Regardless, in moments where everyone is taken care of and there are no pressing matters, Richter is capable of relaxing. Rumor has it he’s been known to laugh at a joke before. And on the rarest occasions attempt one himself. Maybe someday he'll actually tell a good one.

Brief Backstory:
The son of two gold ranked adventurers, Richter spent his childhood in the lap of luxury. Their status and success had allowed the Chevalier family to give their son many advantages. They could even afford to open their doors to much of their extended family who often acted as caretakers for Richter as his parents were frequently out on guild business. When he wasn’t studying with his personal tutors, Richter would run through the halls of their Venne manor fantasising of the adventures he’d have. Of the day when he could follow in his parent’s footsteps and join the guild to become a great adventurer himself. It was a very comfortable life. One Richter could have become spoiled rotten by. Until his 15th winter, when guild emissaries showed up at the door to inform him that his parents had taken a contract that they had not returned from. After weeks of searching, the guild formally declared them dead.

Hell broke loose at the Chevalier manor. The once tight-knit family broke into a vicious feud over custody of Richter. Not out of familial bond, but because whoever became his legal guardian would gain ownership of his parent’s fortune and assets until he was of age. Each desired control and would stop at nothing to get it. All the while, Richter was still trying to process the loss. Idols he once thought invincible now gone from his life forever. His desire to become an adventurer was crushed by the sorrow. And the people he once leaned on for support were now trapped in never ending shouting matches without a single care for his wellbeing. It wasn’t just his parents he had lost, but his entire family.

Unable to bear the pain and loneliness anymore, Richter ran away. He had no idea where he was going, nor did he care where he would end up. What difference would it make being lost in the city when he was lost at home? Or lost in life for that matter? Was there any place for him? Any path forward? Questions consumed his mind. Desperate for answers it seemed none could give, he wandered the city streets aimlessly. It was then on one clear night, Richter looked to the stars. His eyes fixed upon the full moon, and suddenly his mind was cleared. The dark thoughts, the unyielding hopelessness, all of it melted away. For the first time in months, Richter felt at peace. Without thinking, he began walking. His feet moved as if someone else was controlling him, yet he did not resist. He had an inkling of where they were taking him, and in time he would find himself standing in front of the Venne Chapel of Mayon.

Only loosely familiar with the goddesses during his upbringing, Richter found himself enthralled by their teachings. The words of Mayon in particular spoke to him. Her belief in overcoming evil through protection of good. Offering care and guidance of those in need. These lessons reached into Richter’s heart and reignited his determination. He would become an adventurer afterall, but not for the gold and glory he once sought, but to safeguard those who walked that path. Within the walls of the chapel kneeling before the clergy, Richter swore an oath to Mayon and formally began training as one of her paladins.

Eight years have passed since that day. Richter now serves as both a paladin of Mayon and member of the Adventurer's guild. Though he has yet to break out of iron rank, he is not dismayed. He eagerly continues to take on new quests hoping one day he will prove himself worthy of steel, or maybe even higher.

Equipment:

• Scale mail: Metal scales sewn onto a reinforced leather backing. Richter’s mail consists of a scale shirt and gauntlets.
• Mayon cloak: A large fur lined cloak that can cover Richter’s entire body. Despite its size, the cloak is blessed to weigh very little and offer protection from all weather. Be it a harsh winter night or a pleasant sunny afternoon, Richter is perfectly content.
• Kite shield and mace: At first glance, they appear to be an ordinary steel shield and mace. Upon further inspection, they are confirmed to be an ordinary shield and mace. He swears he'll get them enchanted one day.
• Holy symbol: A silver moon with an ornate blooming rose etched into the metal hangs from Richter's neck at all times. It never leaves his person for any reason.
• Travel Bag: Filled with basic gear needed for long distance travel. Thanks to his cloak, Richter has no need for a tent or bedroll, giving him more room to carry extra supplies as needed.

Skills:
As a full fledged paladin, Richter is trained in both martial and magical arts, though his true forte lies in divine magic. He is an expert at healing and restoration, able to cure nearly any injury or illness save for a few extreme exceptions. Additionally, he has a vast knowledge of spells meant to prevent such injuries altogether! Protections, wards, utility spells, even a couple of offensive spells. Anything to offer comfort to those in his care, and make those of an evil nature think twice before confronting a party with Richter in it. Last but certainly not least, Richter’s mace and shield aren’t for decoration. Should divine magic fail or some pesky foe get too close, Richter is more than capable of holding his own in physical combat.

Sword and Dungeon: An Adventurer's Guild-based Fantasy RP

Still looking for more players or is this RP at capacity?

Star Wars - Banshee Down

@Half Pint Good luck with the new job and apartment. Don't worry, you'll figure out what you're doing in no time! (And if not, just fake it. It's worked for me so far.)

Would anyone else want to bump into Denon and Korsu? Or should we advance to finding the crash?

Star Wars - Banshee Down

@Half Pint Still want to have Trelvik run into our group? I've got a post in the works and just want to be sure before I write him in.