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SO MUCH RESPONSIBILITY
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The bear, surprised and shocked, ran away back into the woods. It seems Albic's towering visage and inhuman roar was more than enough to challange the bear. For several moments afterwards, the odd pair stood in silence, listening as the bear disappeared into the wilds.
"That..." began the gnome, uncharacteristically out of words. "Was... Amazing!" she burst, the last word expressed so loudly that the birds would've flown away in fright if Albic hadn't already done that.
The gnome seemed to regard Albic for a few moments with both fascination and glee, and then straightened her posture, nodded to herself reassuringly and held forth her tiny hand for a shake. "I'm Binksy! It's short for Binksandradine, my given gnomish name of course."
The tiny humanoid's ears flickered with rage. "H-how dare you?!" she exclaims as Albic lightly kicks her bag. She gets up from the ground and waves her hands in anger. "What am I doing sittin' around?! You knocked me on my arse so what the bloody hell do you think?!"
She didn't seem to have any interest in Albic's heritage or his belongings, only her wounded pride. [i]"What are YOU doing here is the better question, are you tryina' rob me or something?!"
Albic's awareness of his surroundings may have missed the gnome somehow, but it did not miss the rustling of leaves nearby. The path that they were on was nothing but a small trail after all, and the wilderness surrounded them completely. Still, it was bright day so any nightpredators shouldn't be out roaming about. This isn't the land that is so familiar to them, however.
The gnome paused her rage for a moment as she too heard the noise. "Oi. Was that you?" she said in a much much more hushed tone. Her fingers stroked the handle of her shortsword.
From the thick brush the pair heard the rustle repeat itself. There was indeed something in the bush. "Okay, that wasn't you was it?" the gnome said and drew her blade carefully. She seemed nervous, but not in an inexperienced kind of way... Just... Dislike, probably. Albic wasn't too sure of how to read people, he was better with animals and plants.
Out of the brush came a big black nose. Then a pair of yellow eyes. Then two furry black ears, and a big drooling mouth with teeth. That's a black bear, Albic realized. Not the largest of bears but still of size enough to rival himself or swallow the gnome whole, quite literally.
It didn't seem agitated yet, but it did seem surprised to see two living creatures so close. It seems the two had been so stealthy that even the wildlife had missed them.

Fight or flight, Albic? Or is there a third option?
Deciding to head west, Albic made for the road heading out of town. Finally escaping the crowds, noise and smells, he could feel his mind regaining focus once again. The wilds was where he belonged. Out here, in the untamed lands of a new continent, he would be at his absolute best.
Suddenly he bumped into something with his foot. "Ouwf!" came a noise, but it wasn't his own. He looked down and saw a gnome, sitting on it's rear in the dirt. "Watch where yer goin' ye big goof!" said the tiny humanoid. Blinking a few times, Albic felt stunned. How had he not noticed this little person until he had literally walked into it? Though, she didn't seem to have noticed him either and seemed equally as surprised. "How'd you manage to sneak up on me like that anyway?" demanded the gnome. She was small, made aggressive gestures as she spoke and the words just poured out of her mouth, as is usual for gnomes speaking common. They were simply way too fast in their sentences sometimes, a biproduct of their own language being terribly fast and minds even more so.
She was dressed as a typical adventurer, if not a bit thuggish, and carried a way too large backpack with her. She had a few scars from old cuts across her face, confirming Albic's suspicion. She seemed like quite the rogueish type. A shortsword (not much more than a dagger to Albic) hung at her waist and a green-pendant necklace hung around her neck. She seemed upset, her face lighting up in red that made her freckles look like pink spotlights.

The Adventure Begins . . .


The settlement of Portsmouth is located where a river meets the sea, on the New World continent. It is the largest colony on this side of the world so far, and by far the best funded. Anywhere Albic looks he can see people of all professions go about their daily business. Many adventurers like him also walk the newly paved streets, and the air is filled with the scents of foods, goods, lumber and the sea. Despite being quite well-developed, the town is obviously in its' infant stages. Many houses are nothing more than shacks, construction is underway everywhere and everything is new. Nobody knows the way. A town crier is nailing signs to a signpost as if on queue with Albic's thoughts.

But despite the intensity and enormity of the new world, Albic is not alone. No, he has something important with him. On his back he carries his satchel with supplies. Some provisions, a torch or two, rope, sleeping-bag, flint and tinder... The basics. On his back he also carries his spear, and three knives of different sizes adorn his belt. But this important item is something else. It carries sentimental value above the others . . .

What is this item? (Choose one)

Devilwolf's Hide
A hooded cloak made from the hide of a frenzied wolf that once terrorized the countryside. Albic alone managed to slay the wolf and claim his hide as his own. From it he made a cloak that has exceptional defensive and stealthy capabilities when worn.

Orcblood
A broadsword made of well-crafted steel. Albic is unsure where it came from, but he is quite sure it was a leftover from his father. He had found it castaway half-burried in dirt one day in his youth and had cared for it ever since.

Wildred Necklace
A necklace made of fangs, claws and talons. Albic's deep connection with the wilds goes beyond mere survival and pathfinding. It is spiritual. This necklace is blessed by the spirits of the wilds, giving him deeper understanding of the beasts of the world.

Woodcarved Mask
A mask made of oak, carved to fit Albic's face perfectly. When worn, he can see things that people can not. It is blessed by the spirits of hawks, after all.

Affirming to himself that his prized possession is still there, Albic takes a deep breath. Determined, he looks around town. He has been given his assignment: travel deeper into the wilds to the west and establish contact with the reclusive elven neighbours of which the colony authorities know nothing about and see if they are friendly or not. Yet... Perhaps there is something he should do before he leaves. Will he look around town before leaving or will he begin his adventure now?

Welcome to "Glory to Whom?", a classical fantasy adventure!

This thread will follow the perspective of Albic (or Groll as he sometimes calls himself) as he traverses the world and unravels mysteries, goes on adventures and writes his own legend.
The premise is quite simple: we make it up as we go! The character is entirely controlled by one player, while the world dances to the game master's tune. The player will have to make choices that affects events and the world around him.

An introduction . . .

Albic is a half-orc under the 'employ' of human authorities. The Kingdom of Tamarun has established a colony in the New World continent to the far west, and so far all they know about it is that it's very different. It looks and sounds and feels like the continent at home, but an empty canvas for new and exciting prospects. But one people is seldom alone, and the New World already houses several civilizations that may or may not take kindly to newcomers or outlanders. Being of Half-Orc descent and adventurer make, Albic has been offered a job as a "pathfinder" of sorts. Before the colonist authorities can send an envoy to the nearby elven neighbours (that seem a little bit off compared to the elves back at home...) it is decided that expendable adventurers are to go in first, to see if the wilds are as dangerous as the superstitious settlers believe.

The plot so far . . .

Empty.

Additional information

For the curious. The icons and images used in this roleplay is not my own.
The icons used for items is taken from hiveworkshop.com, a modding community for Warcraft 3 and Starcraft 2. As such, some might recognize the designs.
The Kingdom of Alimor


As the others turned their capes and left, Keltheron stood, still gazing at the big obelisk. "Magborne." he called out. One of his companions stopped and turned around to him again. "Yes, King-Mage?" the yellow-cloaked mage responded. When Keltheron did not say anything else, Magborne approached him. "What's bothering you, my King?" she said. Keltheron finally turned to face his trusted advisor.

"We were not first to this land, it seems. The ruins of past civilization stand before us, yet for it's seeming grandeur and power, whoever erected this monument is long gone now... Will we meet the same fate, I wonder?" Keltheron spoke solemnly.
"No." Magborne said, unwavering. "We are born and gifted by the God of Magic. We are the chosen, led by the greatest King-Mage who has ever been crowned. We will not fall into ruin."
Keltheron smiled. Perhaps Magborne is right, or perhaps she is simply exalted in his pressence.
"Whatever destiny is to be ours, we shall meet it at the best of our abilities." Keltheron said and placed his hand upon the surface of the obelisk. Magborne could feel the hum of magic in the air changing.
"What are you doing, Keltheron?!" she exclaimed.
"Claiming what is now ours."

Then, he destroyed the obelisk.

C) Destroy the obelisk.
@Irredeemable Yeah code had broke somewhere. Hiders love breaking for no appearant reason. We're currently full at the moment, but it seems we have some inactives so next turn might have a spot opening up. We'll be going through the holding list though.

@everyone:
Turn 7! Biggest post so far, over 80,000 characters. GJ everyone on the collab!
Turn 7






The Iceborn

@Cyclone


The Antari

@Murtox No post found. 2/3.


The Children of Artemon

@Pirate


Clan Oreborn

@Kangutso No post found. Turn: 2/3


The Lycan Covenant

@Pyromaniacwolf


The Orc-Grave Swamp Enclave

@Bright_Ops


Clan Metalbeard

@Lauder


The Elven Enclave

@ArisenMoon No post found. Auto dropout: 2/3


Dominion of Commorragh

@Asura No post found. 1/3


Tuatha de Cu

@Brithwyr



Kingdom of Alimor

@Chenzor

The Kingdom of Alimor





It had been a few days since the great storm had ended, and all that was left of the Alimorian fleet was now but wreckage upon the shores. Keltheron the King-Mage had been swift to order the fanning out onto the grassy plains nearby to find a suitable location to settle. The mission was still the same, after all; to find a new land to call their own. The earth was fertile, to the north there was a forest and to the east they could see mountains. Small lakes dotted the landscape, with small streams befit their size. So small were the bodies of water that they were barely worth mapping out, but perhaps they could be fished out of regardless.
The initial settlement wasn't intended to be their capital, that much Keltheron and his senators had already decided, but it would be ideal for starting out. Thus, the settlement was named Ehrendal. The name of Alimor the King-Mage would save for the ideal place for their capital.

As the hovels and huts were constructed up on the grassy hill that was to be their home from now, Keltheron looked upon his people.
Their skin was bronze and brown, their hair ranging from brown to pitch-black. Their eyes were yellow, a gift from their God of Magic that according to legend shaped them out of clay. Not a single Alimorian did not have yellow eyes, and to be birthed with anything else would be an anomaly, and depending on the color, perhaps even an abomination.
The purple, the deep violet, was their royal color and thus donned only on the cape of Keltheron himself. Yellow were the clothes of the senators - mighty wizards and cunning politicians, nobles. Red were the tunics of the warriors, and green and brown were the colors of the commonfolk. Farmers, woodworkers, carpenters. Those who held higher titles despite their commoner background were sometimes given a sash with a different color and iron buckle to reflect their recognized status. For example, smiths and crafters who made magical items for the magician-caste wore a yellow sash.
Despite their clear system of casts, all knew their place in the hierarchy and although seemingly different, they were all bound together by their heritage. The ancient Alimorian heritage that ran through their blood - the gift of magic.
When among their own kin, an Alimorian never hides. When out in the world however, or when dealing with other cultures, they don face-masks befitting of their status. They were mostly plain and white, with symbols belonging to their caste.

The first days of their new lives lay before them. The people of Alimor were ready to meet the world.

(OOC note: Now that Cyclone is co-GMing he stated I may now join the RP myself if I wanted to. Obviously, I will not write my own turns, but I felt like I wanted to make that clear regardless. Let's have fun, lads!)
@everyone
Hi! Important info!
On friday is my last day at work and on monday I start studying at uni. This means I will (probably) be very busy this week, and the two weeks upcoming. I won't be gone completely, I just want to inform everyone that I'll be less active. I won't go far though! tyvm
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