Dinh AaronMk

Age of Exploration NRP?

AlienBastard said
When you say alt. history, do you mean alt history in the sense of "What if france won the 7 years war" or something like Kugelstahl /Regicide/Myths and Muskets?Since if it's the latter i'll drop this and just work with you on that setting provided that there's trading companies and very similar elements to what I described here like ancient civilizations lost to time, the existence of humanoid races that while related to humans are clearly different species and strange creatures in strange lands of great value.

The basic concept I devised between some history nerd friends and the PoW crew is a scenario where the Arab world is in a position to colonize the Americas.

This has created a general butterfly effect which reshaped who in Europe was able to sail West. In particular the Spanish naval threat to Britain was neutralized from the get go with a Iberian Caliphate too interested in competing with old rivals in North Africa (and a rather weak neo-Visigothic presence in Northern Iberia). The lack of active Spanish threats to Britain would leave them without the incentive to build a navy so they'll continue their same old song and dance with France or Spain, keeping those two firmly in the position of second or worst place.

Also locked out of Constantinople by the Turks, Venice needs to find a way to recoup their losses so they follow the Arabs to America, along with Genoa and the German Hanseatic League.

When the time comes it'll be explained in further detail because most of what provides for this goes to way, way back. It's on the shelf right now.

The New Order(Post WW3 RP)

I hear rumors he wants to pass this down to me but it has not been publicly confirmed.

Based Germany

I repeat again: BAAAAAAASED GERMANY.





Celebrate, cry, or shrug in an apathetically American way (provided you were not romanced into Soccer through our more glorious than usual run) over Germany's profound 7-1 win over Brazil.

I expect the hooliganism to mix with the political protesting now.

Age of Exploration NRP?

I had an alternate history RP like this in mind. But I'm waiting to confirm the deaths of a few other RPs I'm in before moving. And it was decided it should be put somewhere other than here.

Fallout: The Long Haul [Sign-ups ALWAYS OPEN]

I'll have to keep an eye on this. Got a character from an old Fallout RP I'd like to revive.

Then comes the excuse if I should copy pasta the old posts of hers with some editing to get them up to my current quality, or otherwise start back up from where I left off.

The World of Races (Realistic RP with races)

Siseridon, Opal Coast

“Lo Blea Kynigitos. Lord of the Green Hills. Master of the clouds. Thunder in the sky. The parter of the sea, and Despot of the Eastern shore.” the stallion rambled, giving a dry tasteless eulogy. His eyes gazed off distantly as he stood turned from the sea to the small funerary crowd as they stood on the beach. He stood like a statue, his wings pressed firmly to the side of his steel-blue body as untamed light-gray mane danced in his face. He was old, and his eyes half-glazed from cataracts. No doubt unable to read, his eulogy was no doubt committed to memory.

“Patriarch of House Kynigitos and Despot Appoint of Serene Siseridon we commit your mortal coils to Psymagdon for the glory of his skies, and the most serene of flights. Lay your death is renewed energy in the after. And we pray upon your spirit to bequeath upon the next generations your wisdom.”

Even if the poor stallion could see beyond his knotted and gnarled muzzle the funeral would hardly be an impressive. Siseridon, hardly one of the most impressive of the Silver Coast republics wasn't anything to commit even one of its richest Despots a full funeral. Then again, he had hardly been a popular stallion. Those who turned now were those who already say on the Senklitous of Siseridon; only twenty Patricians in all.

His funeral, whose only lavishness was the pearly white sands of the beach and the rich green of swaying palm ferns behind them. The sea was awash in deep blues against a sky of cotton. Deep rumbles of thunder could be heard, and there was deep anxiety to finish the ceremony, and an impatience to make the next step further.

The body of the Despot himself was hidden away in a boat of simple manufacture. It was even more of a sign of his ineptitude. The greed and lust of his soul had spent what he had saved within the week. It had been in the end that it had been found he had stolen much of the city's coffers to buy Satyr wenches to entertain him in his last miserable days, coughing onto the floor of his palace his lungs.

And of the many to see from the Despot's chamber was Iliousis Hymaria. Trusted by the fool Despot has his Viserios, his adviser, he was the witness to every exchange he had made. But it wasn't until he had began to devour the coffers that he became his rival. Blea could have ended him there when he protested. But what had transpired between him and his satyr whores most of had inebriated him into forgetting.

Iliousis. Standing a hand over his contemporaries he was a powerful young stallion. His father had passed when he was just a colt and he had inherited the status of Patrician at a young age. It was a blessing as it was a curse. On the Senklitous it was becoming apparent he would outlive many and he was already a shrewd youth. But a Patrician of his age only suggested weakness in the family. A curse by the Gods to many. In the background they talked about him being the last Patrician of his family, with only mares without a name left to back him.

His silken gold man hung behind him, tied in a long ponytail from his head. A light coat shrouded his pale blue hide in black. Hanging over his wings as he watched with bitter disinterest as the prolonged eulogy dragged. He was growing slowly bored. Golden eyes shrank behind a drooping lid.

But, they said death is a moment of reflection. Of life.

On reporting to the Senklitous of Blea's corruption they had become angry. His hedonism was known, but it was not known it would step over its limits so far. On that afternoon they had demanded abdication from the Despot. But one of his agents must have heard, and before the vote for his removal be made he had dismissed the council. Ordering them cast from the chambers. He knew that without ceremony he could retain his seat. And he continued to deny them for some time.

But as he drank himself through his last days, crying for one last surge or energy to avoid his coming demise the Patriarchs had reassembled. If without ceremony. The Senklitous has their birds, as the Despot has theirs. And the bloodied throws that racked his body became more dramatic it was known he would not live to see beyond a week. The depot grew more bed ridden, more infirm as the the Senklitous withdrew to their estates. Plotting under lamplight. Electing by the fire.

And so despite his dying family arose Iliousis Hymaria. From Patrician to Despot in waiting. All that needed to be done for his glory was the end to the ceremony. The illusion of his election happening this moment.

“We commit thee your body to the sea, gateway to Psymagdon, to achieve eternal salvation in his clear waters, and clear skies.”

The old stallion ceased his eulogy, and lazily the two guards near the Despot's funerary board placed their hooves on the dark wood. With a hearty push the boat groaned along the coarse sand, commiting itself into the waves with a splash. Beat by the waves it lingered for a time. The guards pushing it out further into the contemptuous waves. The gathering watched as they flew above the lapping waves. Pushing it out until it could find a current and be carried off. Ridding itself and the body from their Republic. It took time, and by the time the guards rose into the sky to return they were already dim spots on a graying sky.

The stallion priest who had delivered his eulogy did not make any pretended efforts to consolation the meager body present on the beach. It was clear that many were embarrassed and done enough with Blea that they'd rather turn and forget. Slowly Iliousis turned his back on the sea, walking up the beach with the few mourners.

“Where do you think his body will end up?” someone said from behind, cold and distant. The coarse thunderous tone brought Iliousis to stop, turning to the speaker. Alongside him walking a tired old Patrician.

“What do you mean?” Iliousis asked. The patrician was Keimonas Imisios. His green coat was graying, flaked with tufts of gray fur. His wings tattered and tired. His head reclined to bow forever on his long boney neck.

“He would not be the first coffin I have seen floated off.” the tired old buck smiled weakly, “Sometimes if you fly up and down the coast a few days or a week after you'll find them again. There's no committing them to a heavenly kingdom. We just push breeds like us off and forget they ever existed.”

“I see...” Iliousis mumbled uncomfortably, turning up the bank to follow the group as a straggler.

“If you're to be Despot, I imagine you will be dealing with plenty more bodies, my lord.” Keimonas continued as he followed suit, “And perhaps you might fly down the coast someday and find my own coffin, caught in some weeds or broken against the rocks near the Satyr Coast.”

“It'll be unfortunate if I do.” the Doge to be laughed, “What would you have me do then with your body, if I should find it?”

“Well, I do not expect much thought to be given of my corpse, as I now do give so little of others'. I could be washed far south to the Kingdom of Aeschion, and what bit of me has not been pecked clean by the birds will be burned in an effigy of those accursed Satyr's disdain for us.” he growled, “And the waves are picking up, I feel a northern wind. If our brothers pushed him far enough out I might make a bet our disdainful Blea will be on the shores of King Amegnos by the storm's passing his shores.”

Keimonas looked out down the shore, where along a distant outcrop sat several distance figures. Hunched over themselves much unlike the equine form of the Pegasi. “We could have committed his body to the Satyrs as glue for them.” he nodded in contempt, “Like so many slaves and prisoners. It would have brought the last inevitable chapter of his story quicker.”

“What about the offense from his family?” Iliouses pointed. The soft brush of palm leaf brushed his side as they trotted up the hill and to the dirty beaten hoof path to the city, “I would have challenged anyone directly at alongside my father's body if he was committed to the lowest funeral.”

“You are young, so I no doubt you would!” Keimonas laughed, “And I am old. I probably will not see the end of next winter. If I will be killed now for suggesting we burned and crushed his remains, then do it now. Bring the inevitable to me sooner so I will no longer wait.

“I already can not fly, and my hooves are worn and sore. Simply standing on the beach I was sure I would loose these too. Then you would have to beat in my head on the spot. But that wouldn't be hard, I don't doubt it's as soft as a gourd.” even as morbid as it was, Keimonas held a cheery demeanor. He was happy, if dark.

“What happens is our life, Iliouses.” he said, “Not our death. What we do carries for generations. Not how we die. We like what we do. Not how we go.”

The World of Races (Realistic RP with races)

It is a silly rule anyways. Why even bar humans in the first place? Unless you want Magical Furry RP 2014.

The World of Races (Realistic RP with races)

Name: Satyr

Description:


Evolution: The Satyr were born of the mountains where they resided as a foragers amid the rocky outcroppings and valleys for many thousands of years. The advantage of full hands gave the Satyr a distinct advantage in their ability to craft complex tools. Although their homeland greatly hindered their ability to forge a proper life-style and many family tribes lived in migration from one valley to another, gleaning from nature their means to live.

For their early paleolithic history the Satyrs lived in caves throughout their mountain homes, moving from one valley or peak to another. In their travels they left behind an assortment of simple illustrations for the next band. These markings and paintings allowed for new bands to read the previous band's general census of the area. Although the effort was wise, it did little to afford them the time and energies to settle down as a sedimentary race and they would have lived that way for many more centuries.

However winds of change blowed from the north bringing to their homes the Pegasi race. The nomadic lifestyle of the Pegasi did not at first bother them as they kept to the high peaks. But as the numbers grew and they became hungrier tribal raiding against the Satyr intensified forcing many early nameless clans to abandon the mountains in and effort to evade the wings of the Pegasid.

Loose and disorganized the Satyr managed to out range the Pegasi as they put down their roots on the cliffs they once called home.

Settling the coastal lowlands proved a boon to Satyr lifestyle with the opportunity of stationary or semi-nomadic agriculture arose. Satyr civilization developed and branches in the lowlands and their race spread as the population grew. Growth in this range however was difficult to maintain as they went deeper into the cold south and over time many returned slowly to the mountains they had once called home in a forgotten time. The gradual process lead to a split of culture into two major groups: the Dionsydis and the Gyn.

The Gyn is the Dionsidean word for the over-all “uncivilized” of their kin who had fled into the mountains. In the legends, they are written as a race who was banished from the Green Lands by the gods for a number of reasons ranging from sodomy to lethargy and that the hero Pen was tasked to drive them to the land where they must work to live, barring them from the wealth and leisure guaranteed through proper tasking.

In reality the rise of the Gyn is a unwritten mystery and they simply are. As a race of Satyr they no more lack in their ability to work as the Dionsidean. However the major factor that would explain for the coastal, agricultural distrust for the mountain tribes is their taste for meat, which sets them apart considerably from the largely vegetarian lifestyle of the Dionsidean cultures.

The Dionsidean are themselves builders of civilization with a multitude of kingdoms that span the coastal territories. Largely favoring the consumption of sugar-rich fruits and grains their diet for some part often includes fish.

Dionsidean culture is not united, is some part less so than the Pegasid to the north. The largest split in their own cultural-ethnic group lies in the division between the Panien and the Rumen, with the Rumen being subjects to the Pegasid kings who rule over the northern Satyr coast.

The Panien Dionsidean abhore the idea of being a servant and refuse to accept that the Rumen would voluntarily work under another alien race. Their shock has not however translated to a sense of liberal freedom for their fellows and has in fact polarized a potential third schism in the Dionsidean psyche. To them, death would be preferable to servitude.

To the Rumen, the relationship between Pegasid and them is of mutual benefit. Though considered largely second class by the Pegasi nobility or Patricians there exists a relative sense of independence between the two based on the understanding the Satyr will perform their duty as craftsmen or peasants and the Pegasi will fulfill theirs as statesmen and guardians.

Strengths: A nimble race with the physical faculties to make more delicately produced crafts, great runners, well hung.

Weaknesses: In comparison to their neighbors they're not the most maneuverable, even with adept track and field skills. Not being able to fly has greatly effected their ability to range or outpace the Pegasid. Even the mountain dwelling Gyn can not tackle the types of peaks the Pegasid often occupy. In addition they are sensitive to many foods or conditions of foods which bar them from things like grain-based alcohol.

Location:


Satyr (blue) in comparison to the Pegasid (Yellow)

The World of Races (Realistic RP with races)

Toaw said
Aww I was hoping the limitations I made to telekinesis was good enough, simply because my race has no other real way to build things. It had limitations depending on the size, and they could only move things that were directly in front of them, but I understand if it doesn't fit well with you. As for battle I figured torches, and explosive substances could be the best weapon against them, but I can change that too if you wish.

Arguably the fact they're probably not in a solid form and don't have a brain (or well protected brain) would put them at a disadvantage to build up a society. When I read the app all I could think of was effectively playing D+D monsters in a region of the map as if you're playing something like Spore. Which is to say a whole lot of nothing interesting and rudimentary building.

A soft shell over the brain would probably lead to a lot developmentally early damage impairing them. Or not having any way to really manipulate things would serve as a ceiling to how far they can go. Even trying to get the Pegasid to a point I can work with them was hard without invoking some sort of relationship with something with more fingers.

On that topic I feel like a second race should be invoked for me to better explain things on one end, to at least cover the possibility that I may not get permission to directly control possible exclave communities of other races.

Precipice of War - We Write Under The Sign Of The Goat

Cantankerous_Arthropod said
Aside from the name change (why did it happen?), is Germany any different from Prussia?

Name changed because retconning and cleaning things up a great deal in Europe. And functionally it's still the same, just all of Feo's shit is struck from the lore.