Most characters don't use guns due to them being rather useless at closer ranges, where the monsters fight. Magic is a much better alternative, since it hits more enemies with a wider effective range.
It's not like we're fighting each other. We're fighting monsters.
True, thats why i'm not worried about guns and stuff. because most people in this RP seem to have enough reflexes to dogde/block bullets
Hopefully you're still accepting. I may have taken one sentence from the post and run with it a bit far. So here's what I have so far so you can tell me to get out if I took too much liberty with 'technology' before I make up an example post.
Name: Margaret 'Maggie' Bonn Age: 25 Gender: Female
Appearance: Due to her masculine and rather isolated upbringing, Maggie doesn't give much thought into the way she presents herself. Years of toying in workshops has left her posture lacking and skin pale but for a faint dusting of freckles over a slightly too-wide too-upturned nose. Her hands (the right notably missing the last two fingers) are stained black which no amount of scrubbing would be likely to remedy, if she bothered with such things. Her hair is a soft brown, cut unevenly and always held back, if not completely covered. The rest of her features are simple and plain, brown eyes with high eyebrows, a small mouth and jutting chin. Lastly, what clothing she does own is just as ragged as herself, that which is not stained or torn is at least singed in some place.
Kingdom: Earth Kingdom Persona: In the midst of fighting a war that has already claimed the lives of her father and mentor, Maggie appears unperturbed by the demons knocking on her homeland's door. If anything she's eager for the vast testing grounds of the battlefield and plentiful resources of a combined effort. Her lack of solidarity and experience alienates her from most other soldiers. Not that she cares or in fact notices. She has an ingrained distrust of magic, and the people of both Sky and Water kingdoms, which comes from her judging them a primitive rather then politics and ancient grievances.
Sample: Base camp was disappointing, to put it in a word. Maggie may not have actually entered yet, but if the sentries greeting her and the dodgy view offered behind them where any indication, this was going to be an upward battle. She shifted the weight of a very heavy pack to another shoulder as the tall man looked over her papers for the third time. The only weapon he seemed to carry was a great broadsword. Maybe he was from one of the other kingdoms, or a tribe. That gave her pause, did soldiers from such parts read? She opened her mouth to offer assistance when the towering warden spoke.
"I'm not entirely clear as to your purpose here" Maggie dropped the pack, huffed in exasperation and took a step forward to point out lines in the paper. "-replacing the valuable assistance previously provided by Mr. Lucas Bonn after his unfortunate demise." A quick glance upward showed a glare intense enough to make her step back. She forced a grin at the man anyways, picking up the pack again. "May I enter?" "You don't look like a soldier." He grumbled eying her pack skeptically. Maggie didn't respond, there wasn't much to say to that. She wasn't a soldier, but she knew her way around a gun well enough and was one of the few people of the Earth Kingdom who both knew how to make gunpowder and would give it to the army free of charge. Provided they gave her resources, plenty of resources. The silence continued as Maggie rolled on the balls of her feet, impatient. He would have to let her in eventually, or a superior with some sense would come around and - With a grunt the man stepped aside. "Thank you" she replied curtly, giving a small but exaggerated bow as she passed not breaking eye contact until she did so.
It took another hour to find anyone who would direct her to her bunk, then half again for the gentleman to understand there was a workshop as well which she should be lead to. But by the time the sun was just barely touching the horizon she found herself in a small tent with room only for a person stand, a small uncomfortable looking chair in one corner, and a large desk still cluttered with various tools and papers. This put a genuine smile on Maggie's face, the place stilled smelled of burnt sulfur. In a matter of moments she was fondly regarding the notes her father left behind, absorbed enough to forget about thanking the soldier that helped guide her. After a few uncomfortable seconds he left anyways.
It wasn't until it grew too dark to continue reading that Maggie took in the rest of her shabby workplace. Candles where the first thing she found, and lit one with a grimace. An open flame wouldn't help so much as hinder. Or take out this quarter of the camp. No, the serious work would be restricted to daylight; so she began to unpack. Yes, she had a bunk in an over crowded tent with Earth Kingdom soldiers, which was likely cleaner but this was her perpose for being here, and if she was going to be in the field, time would have to be spent wisely. Tools and supplies went to the workbench, clothing and her newly made armor underneath. She left everything unorganized, giving herself more time to search through everything else left behind by her father. He had barely been in the place a month, yet the drawers were still filled with dedicated notes. Finding a blank sheet and piece of charcoal, Maggie wrote a hasty requisition order for spare or scrap iron. There wouldn't be a chance to get new supplies until morning she was sure, but best not risk forgetting.
She pulled the sole chair to the bench and the papers close as she dared to the dim candle light. The sounds from outside, soldiers on and off duty as well as the various other camp workers quickly faded. It wasn't until her candle burnt out that Maggie looked up from her reading. She yawned and stretched, hands brushing a wetness on her cheek. Odd, when had she been crying? The thought was dismissed quickly as it had come. "Well Vivian," She said placing the over sized firearm on the bench, followed by her uncovered feet, "welcome home."
Equipment: A single-shot pistol of her own design, affectionately named Vivian, nearly the size of her forearm. It has remarkable accuracy considering alternatives available, but a meager range of 9 feet, limiting it's usefulness in Maggie's ranged combat style. Her 'tool belt' which, when not in the workshop, holsters not only her gun but half a dozen grenades and an assortment of other powders.
Ability/Magic/Technology: High intelligence in sciences and engineering, no magical aptitude. -Grenades; self explanatory. For practicality the ones carried on her person need to be lit rather then being pressure sensitive, though she can produce land-mines and other varieties. -Smoke powder; what it sounds like, stored in vials which release thick smoke making it difficult to see and breath. Released by breaking vials. -Incendiary powder; similar to the gunpowder used in the grenades without shrapnel and saturated with other ingredients allowing it to burn for much longer. Works as the grenades, requiring flame to start. -Corrosive powder; toxic powder which can dissolve flesh, wood, and tempered fabrics. Released by breaking or opening vial.
Accepted
Name: Evelyn Cheyne Age: Twenty two Gender: Female Appearance: Kingdom: Water Persona: Evelyn never really grew up. In a way she's still a curious and almost naive child. Sweet and quirky, its hard to take the small woman seriously when she wants to be. Life has always been a big adventure for her and that's her reason for joining the war. Evelyn has a natural high about her, always with a smile plastered on her face. Her curiosity and bright attitude has a tendency of being endearing or just plain out annoying. She takes judgement pretty hard although she'll act as if its okay and can be overly sensitive. Equipment: A small pouch that she keeps in her shirt, full of different types of herbs. Ability/Magic/Technology: Evelyn is an amazing navigator and sailor, having spent many years apprenticing on her father's ship. She's also a great swimmer and gifted fisher. With limited medical knowledge, Evelyn knows the basics of first aid. She can stitch up wounds, set bones properly, and knows a thing or two about bandaging and herbs. Her magical aptitude is less impressive.
Minor Healing: Evelyn can heal surface wounds that wouldn't be lethal as well as small infections. With plenty of practice she could improve her skills but she's never seen much of a need to. It doesn't work on herself.
Force field generation: Using her own energy she can manifest weak shields. They can take minor hits but are only has sturdy has a thick glass window, and take more energy the longer she has them up. So far she's only managed to keep one up for a minute, leaving her fairly exhausted.
Um I suppose I'll just leave this here for now and edit my sample post in later, my family wants to go out for dinner. ._. I'll have it done in a few hours.
Please post a post example before a can accept
How does this look?
Name: Gideon Falreach Age: 27 Gender: Male Appearance: A tall, thin young man with a shock of dark hair. His eyes a brilliant blue color, and stare out from behind heavy lenses. He's obviously a mage, down to strangely dirty nature of his clothes to the constant aura of iron powder settles in his hair if he stands still for too long.
Kingdom: Sky Persona: A harried young man who stresses over the well-being and mental health of his teammates. Despite this, he’s secretive when it comes to his own issues, feeling that he doesn't want to bother anyone. He's also a miser, and quite adept at dodging around paperwork.
"One staff with assorted enchantments, one battle-fitted golem with assorted enchantments, one golem-sized halberd with assorted enchantments, five hundred pounds of iron, silver, and other assorted metals, twenty pounds of assorted footstuffs, and a golem-drawn wagon." The gate guard looked up from the scrawling parchment in front of him to observe the man who had just declared his cargo. He was tall and thin, with blue eyes set behind a fringe of black hair and a pair of black-framed glasses. He was obviously a mage, an oddity in these parts. If the bladed staff set with the large amber gem wasn't a giveaway, he wore dark, flowing clothes plated with various rare metals. The guard kept his thoughts about the usefulness of such garb in a battle to himself as he continued: "Anything else to declare, Mr.... Falreach?"
The man known as Gideon Falreach was currently debating his options. He smiled nervously, trying desperatly to hide the fact that his palms had suddenly broken out in a cold sweat. Behind the thick lenses of his glasses, blue eyes darted around, looking desperately for an escape route at he sound of the guard's inquiry. He held up both hands, attempting to show his lack of armaments. "Well, see, I can't exactly... pay the tax right now."
The guard stopped his scribbling on the parchment, his eyes barely angling upwards as he glared over at the iron-reinforced cart that the massive golem was hauling. "You can't... pay. Really."
Gideon nodded, completely missing the disbelief in the other man's voice. He rocked back and forth on his heels, the nervous smile still plastered across his features. "Yeah."
The guard sighed, put down his quill, and reached for his sword, not paying attention as Gideon stepped back and the golem straightened up to its full height. "Look, sir, I'm going to need you to-grnk" Whatever the guard was going to say was cut off as the golem reached out one massive finger and tapped the man on the skull.
Still nodding nervously, Gideon awkwardly patted the unconscious man on the head. He reached over to the parchment, picked up the quill and wrote a messy 'I owe you money' on the bottom of the page. The magi stepped over the prone form and nodded to the nearest flabbergasted bystander, before breaking into a trot that took him away from the city limits, the hulking form of his golem rumbling after him.
Equipment: A staff, made of pure iron and set with an amber colored focus near the end. Two dozen knives of the same metal, along with six silver rings carried in his pockets.
Steel and Silver, taller than an elephant when standing straight up and several times as heavy. It's a masterwork of enchantments and craftmanship, only able to stand up under its immense weight due to the sheer number of spells in its potently magical frame.
Soul-Bound Weapon 'Clamour': A literal ton of silver metal, complete with an amber sphere the size of a smile child. It is capable of metamorphosing into a variety of forms without Gideon's direct intervention, and when under his direct control it can contort itself into a huge number of fantastic shapes.
Ability/Magic/Technology:
Ferrokinesis: His most basic and consistently utilized spell is the absolute control over metals with his range. Within several limitations that include: He cannot control alloys, he cannot control objects enchanted by someone other than himself, and that upon reaching a set range or weight limit, the power required grows exponentially to the point of exhaustion or death. This power is the basis for which nearly all of his other spells are based on.
His most complex and complete spell is the one pertaining to the 'Rook'. A series of unfortunate happenstances ended up with him transmuting half of his soul in the gigantic puppet. The seventeen foot avatar of hulking metal that is known as the Rook is the key to the young Drake’s offensive talent. Made entirely of folded steel shot through with silver veins(Making it the sole violation to his 'no alloys' limit), the massive frame operates like a battering ram, its joints worked by Gideon's magic. Spells that a multitude of masters have placed make the giant surprisingly agile, along with a series of arcane foci located inside of the head for a nasty surprise. Despite the seeming advantage this iron giant gives him in long-range engagements, the limits of his accidental sacrifice show as the Rook moves away from him. Gideon suffers immensely as the Rook passes more than seventy feet from him, with any larger ranges usually resulting in a rapid and exponential increase in damage followed swiftly by death. Addtionaly, at these ranges, the Rook becomes sluggish and predictable, often halting movement entirely as Gideon is forced to move closer.
Arcane Ray: A rather simple spell, direct in both its function and power. Out of a properly attuned focus, it launches a bolt of raw mana at high speed at the target
Scale: A spell that Gideon is particularly proud of, and one that doesn't utlize his mastery of metal. It allows him to take matter, organic and inorganic, and use it to create a real-time diorama of a set area of terrain. If he's looking to create an organic model, he needs a sample of their DNA(Skin, hair, fur, scales, bark, etc) to act as a stand in.
