Gendarme

Things you Google while writing.

Cultures that are today barely alive, or are obscure to those outside of them. Even a few mainstream cultures. They're all interesting. Even more so if you can incorporate some elements of that culture into a setting properly. Recently I've been looking at the Occitan culture.

Airborn; A Swashbuckling Airship Adventure (Mature)

Albrecht walked into the room with a wary look on his face. The stories his grandfather told were tall tales, but they had a profound influence on the man. In addition to their overall rowdy behavior, pirates were brigands who had a penchant for taking everything that wasn't nailed to the floor, and killing witnesses. Albrecht almost spat in their direction. He even contemplated insulting their mothers for raising such curs. Yet he didn't; that would undoubtedly put his employer in a bad light for letting a member of the crew be beaten to a bloody pulp. Albrecht's gaze shifted to his employer. The Moor... Albrecht thought with a perplexed frown. He had been told repeatedly by the Spanish that all of his ilk were all but rotted to the core. Yet Amir seemed none of these things to Albrecht. He had appeared much kinder than the stories the members of his former ship had let on. Were all Moors this kind? Albrecht's thoughts wandered back to the former ship. "Rata Alemán," the sailors had called him - German rat. Albrecht was unused to such language, but soon enough took on the name himself to show them that he wasn't soft. Over time he had made friends. Friends whom he promised to write. Yet he never seemed to have the time to write; there was always something to do, or an anxiety-ridden dream, the callings of his former home in the old world. He wouldn't admit it, but he missed home. He missed the stories of the farmers, his grandparents, and even his father. The father that had given him so little, had shown him little love, he pined for. Albrecht focused on David for a moment; a peculiar first mate to him, but he would follow orders as a good sailor always did. He nodded firmly. He had a promise to fulfill. One that he would fulfill one small task at a time. Return home either rich, famous, or dead.

Airborn; A Swashbuckling Airship Adventure (Mature)

I've said it before that GM'ing at the moment would be above my station. Though I think the folks who've offered their help are more than capable!

Airborn; A Swashbuckling Airship Adventure (Mature)

I wouldn't mind if you started it! Though maybe we should wait one more day just to be sure? It's possible Angel has come up with some real life complications, in which case I think we should give her a little more time, yeah?

Astoria Chronicles - Artorias

Daregim watched as the now dead man was carted away. His thoughts turning to questions. Why would he want to offer his hard earned money to a man's funeral? Wasn't that the business of the church and the family? He cringed for a moment. The idea that could never be a reality. He would never help with a funeral. He would never become a priest, and that was his place in society. He was an adventurer now, and he was sure he had the love of the Mother on his side even with his wrongdoings. "I'm going through this tired old monologue again. I'm an adventurer now," He thought. With a deep breath, Daregim pondered the significance of the gem. He had just spoken of finding the man's family, but now he was formulating a crude plan. The musings of the old Dwarf would find themselves turned to words at times. An old habit he had picked up from his father when he was much younger. "Find out who." He muttered. "Find the relatives." He continued. So deep in thought, he came to only when the Archbishop said the words, "The Dragons are returning. He is returning." Any thoughts of helping the man vanished, and were replaced with those of fear. He paid close attention to the words that would be spoken next. He wouldn't shake in fear; the horror he felt couldn't be shown. He was a Dwarf. He was to be stout as stone. He was a servant of the Mother in some way, and he had to show the proper resolve needed. Daregim kept a stalwart and blank face, accepting the sapphire with a polite nod and a "Thank you." He put the precious item back beneath his mail and leather. Then, dragons flew over the city. The elderly man instinctively reached for his shield and axe, crouching down. More out of fear and habit than anything else. He remembered he was in a church, and with some quick shallow breaths he put the weapons away. "Stout as stone." He whispered. He had recalled stories told about Artorias. He was the monarch of malice. The lord of lust. A liar through and through. Everything he did was an affront to the Mother and her will. No matter what, he was there only to take power, murder, and create evil in the world. Daregim would have to steel himself even further. The Dwarf watched as Elizabeth was called up by the Archbishop to receive the Mother's blessing, completely oblivious of anything else for a moment. "Mother keep that woman safe," he said with a frown. As far as he was aware, the Maiden's never failed in their duty, but there were Dragons above the city now. He was sure there was a huge possibility that she could die, that the church would be destroyed in the process. That Artorias himself would do the job. Daregim sighed. He had never witnessed a situation like this. So he did what he always did when he was stressed, scared, and had the time and space. He prayed. Daregim walked to the pew he had been in, and took a seat. He was tired of kneeling. He looked to his right, and picked his helmet up. He didn't put it on out of respect for his deity, and offered only a few prayers before focusing on the ceremony. Short and quick prayers were something he rarely did, but not watching the holy ceremony could have been seen as an affront to the mother, and Daregim didn't fancy himself as a blasphemer. He wasn't sure of what would take place exactly, but he hoped that the Dragons wouldn't interrupt the ceremony.

Astoria Chronicles - Artorias

I believe we're doing posting order as of the moment; which is why I am waiting to post. Could be wrong though. If we're doing the posting order as I have guessed, and if Redneckatron is busy with real life, would anyone mind if I were to post?

Sum up your week in roleplaying in just 3 words

So much anticipation.

City States of Oshmar: Greenskin Invasion

So, is it safe to assume the Entry Sheet is almost complete?

Astoria Chronicles - Artorias

Daregim nodded at the Archbishop, and although he was a bit reluctant to do so, he reached into his coat of mail and leather to pull out the sapphire from the inside of it. He had to reach deep inside to the wool pocket, and a few pieces of lint would fall to the ground as he did so. He held out the bundled sapphire to Archbishop Edward. With the other hand, he unraveled the cloth to reveal the sapphire. "Archbishop, he...He told me to keep it safe. I don't know for what purpose. Maybe it's some sort of a family heirloom? Maybe we can track his family down. See if they know anything about it. We should also alert them of this man's passing." Daregim looked to the man once more. "I can't say I have the funds for his funeral without losing what little I have from my retirement fund." The Dwarf nodded, "Could chop wood for it all." Daregim uttered a few more words about the man needing a proper burial, or contacting the family at least. He wasn't too sure of what else to talk about. A man had just died, and this was all he could muster. With a bit of a cough into his fist, he uttered, "May he rest in peace." Rather than acting like a complete and utter cheapskate, he thought of how he could contribute to the funeral in some way. Flowers? A wreath? Weren't funerals usually fancy and expensive? How could he possibly help?

Astoria Chronicles - Artorias

Daregim looked expectantly at Elizabeth for a reply; then, a man came up to him and practically threw a precious gem at him. Daregim looked at the gem, to the now collapsed man. He removed his glove from his hand to check the man's pulse. He was unsure of what to do in the situation for a moment. It was rare that a man would come up to him and practically throw a precious gem at him. It was even rarer for that person to immediately die. Daregim reached down to pick up the sapphire. He rolled up the sapphire in the cloth, and set it in a buttoned pocket beneath the mail and leather that protected him. He pondered setting it back, but the man had asked him to keep it safe. Safe from what? He had the look of a mercenary or a bandit, yet he didn't act like those Daregim had met. Maybe Daregim's meager reputation as an adventurer is what lead to this; someone seeking him out. Another thought ran through his mind like a jolt. What if it was the will of the Divine Mother? This was quite the situation, and he wasn't too sure of what to do. After some more thought, he turned to face Elizabeth. Puzzled and scared, he said with his voice starting to crack. "He's dead." With the cracking of his voice, Daregim shook his head. He had to maintain a calm composure. "If anyone asks, think up a story." He thought. "Would that be what the Divine Mother would want?" He replied to his own thought barely above a whisper. This man had wanted him to keep this sapphire safe. Surely she would understand his reasoning? Daregim kneeled down to look at the man again. He furrowed his brow. Why had this happened? Was this pure coincidence and nothing more? Daregim looked back up to Elizabeth. Shaken by the event, and perhaps hoping that the man was still alive so that he could give the sapphire back, he shouted, "We need a healer!" Daregim stood back up, and took in a deep breath. This day wasn't going to be a simple one, he was sure. He hoped the man would be well off by the end of it. Though it appeared to be in vain. After shouting for a healer, Daregim stepped back. A man had just died, and this was all he could do now. Stand, and wait. Maybe everything would turn out for the better. If not? He could simply find this man's family and give the sapphire to them. Unless this man had no family. Daregim's mind shifted to avarice for a full minute before he dispelled such thoughts for the moment with a feeling of guilt. "I won't sell it." He said internally.