Arthanus is one of my collaborators, actually. So your count was off by one, Ekirei. We're at ten, total. Myself included. And I know not everyone is necessarily going to stick around.
I'm truly sorry for the way things turned out about the swords, I didn't mean for them to all be off limits. Truly. But you must know how a story can get away from you, and as I wrote it more of them kept being important. Three of them are off limits, yes. And Seer is taken by someone else. Arthanus has just freed up Water Dragon(I was wrong, it turned out. He didn't want it). And I've just confirmed that Vultus is free as well.
So that's Vultus, Water Dragon, Whisper, and Stormbringer that is open. Stormbringer and Water Dragon have little caveat's attached to them, about what sort of character you must play.
So there still isn't enough for everyone, but Arthanus is right: I can't keep writing them in. I originally meant for there to be only five, I ended up writing in three extra when I realized that I was going to be taking some off the table.
Whoever wanted Stormbringer: don't get too many ideas in your head yet. The prologue isn't finished.
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Okay, I have three collaborators on this, one I know is taking Seer. One I believe is taking Vultus(I'm going to go check on that) and the third I think might take Water Dragon, but I honestly don't know.
I'll tell you this, I personally will not be using any swords other than the NPC wielded ones. Those that I know are open are Whisper, and Stormbringer... wait... is that it?
Now I feel selfish for making so bloody many off limits, but now that the world is made those ones are important to the plot. Oh what to do, especially since there's so much new interest in addition to my collaborators.
I'll think on whether I want to add any more or not, because I already added more than I originally meant to have. I don't want people left out, but at the same time I don't want to dilute the importance of the ones that I have. Characters don't have to have them, mind.
I'll tell you this, I personally will not be using any swords other than the NPC wielded ones. Those that I know are open are Whisper, and Stormbringer... wait... is that it?
Now I feel selfish for making so bloody many off limits, but now that the world is made those ones are important to the plot. Oh what to do, especially since there's so much new interest in addition to my collaborators.
I'll think on whether I want to add any more or not, because I already added more than I originally meant to have. I don't want people left out, but at the same time I don't want to dilute the importance of the ones that I have. Characters don't have to have them, mind.
Well thanks, you big Jerk(chicken)!
Of lasers, personal energy shields, and qi: In this universe standard infantry use lasers, and are equipped with personal energy shields to protect them from the same. Unbeknownst to most, however, the energy in these shields(whether it was an intentional development or not) utilize an almost identical energy to the one that flows in all living things. A master of qi can produce a shield from his own energy to ward off laser attacks. Qi(and the energy shields and weapons) comes in positive and negative. Unlike magnets, opposites repel, and laser guns use positive, shields use negative. A master could also use a negative qi strike to get through a shield.
The one putting together the rag-tag group of monks is the far-too-young Zhay, who was the eldest of those young monks who fled the temple five years ago. He has been practicing and has(to his own eyes) mastered these techniques. He could run through laser fire unharmed, striking quick and decisive blows to incapacitate enemies. He is the closest thing that the order has to a grandmaster. He tries his best to be patient and wise, but his greatest flaw is his belief that he has succeeded. His arrogance may undo him.
I'm going to write up a description of the various different martial disciplines. I'd love it if anyone else would jump in with suggestions.
Of lasers, personal energy shields, and qi: In this universe standard infantry use lasers, and are equipped with personal energy shields to protect them from the same. Unbeknownst to most, however, the energy in these shields(whether it was an intentional development or not) utilize an almost identical energy to the one that flows in all living things. A master of qi can produce a shield from his own energy to ward off laser attacks. Qi(and the energy shields and weapons) comes in positive and negative. Unlike magnets, opposites repel, and laser guns use positive, shields use negative. A master could also use a negative qi strike to get through a shield.
The one putting together the rag-tag group of monks is the far-too-young Zhay, who was the eldest of those young monks who fled the temple five years ago. He has been practicing and has(to his own eyes) mastered these techniques. He could run through laser fire unharmed, striking quick and decisive blows to incapacitate enemies. He is the closest thing that the order has to a grandmaster. He tries his best to be patient and wise, but his greatest flaw is his belief that he has succeeded. His arrogance may undo him.
I'm going to write up a description of the various different martial disciplines. I'd love it if anyone else would jump in with suggestions.
Wuxia Space Opera.
I want to just say "That is all" and see who bites. But I won't do that.
On a small, but dense planet known as Wulin(Think King Kai's world from DBZ) there is a small temple, where monks come to train their bodies and minds. The planet's gravity makes them strong, both physically and mentally. Though they learn the art of combat, they are peaceful and temper their martial skills with peaceful philosophy.
Unfortunately, an outside government force noticed the strength of the warriors that this planet produces, and comes in full force to oust them, so that they can set up military training on it for themselves. Many of the masters and older students died defending the place, while the younger students and children fled the planet. There are small pockets of exiles around the galaxy now, whose bodies were forged on Wulin, and who still know the skills taught at the temple.
Zhay was 25 when he was chosen among the fully fledged monks to ensure the safety of those younger than himself. He loaded them up onto the order's only space vessel, and fled. They have since scattered, most of them leaving him for their own reason. Some integrating into society, some trying to teach what skills they had. It has been five years, all the while Zhay has trained honed his skills the best he could without a master, and now he believes himself ready to take on the military force that took over his home. He is gathering those young monks that he rescued before, and pleading with them to come back with him.
I want to just say "That is all" and see who bites. But I won't do that.
On a small, but dense planet known as Wulin(Think King Kai's world from DBZ) there is a small temple, where monks come to train their bodies and minds. The planet's gravity makes them strong, both physically and mentally. Though they learn the art of combat, they are peaceful and temper their martial skills with peaceful philosophy.
Unfortunately, an outside government force noticed the strength of the warriors that this planet produces, and comes in full force to oust them, so that they can set up military training on it for themselves. Many of the masters and older students died defending the place, while the younger students and children fled the planet. There are small pockets of exiles around the galaxy now, whose bodies were forged on Wulin, and who still know the skills taught at the temple.
Zhay was 25 when he was chosen among the fully fledged monks to ensure the safety of those younger than himself. He loaded them up onto the order's only space vessel, and fled. They have since scattered, most of them leaving him for their own reason. Some integrating into society, some trying to teach what skills they had. It has been five years, all the while Zhay has trained honed his skills the best he could without a master, and now he believes himself ready to take on the military force that took over his home. He is gathering those young monks that he rescued before, and pleading with them to come back with him.
The thunder of marching feet filled the air, as a great wave of yellow cloaked men ascended the mountain. Not one man looked back toward the ship that was anchored nearly a leagues below them already, unable to fly any higher. At the head of the formation was a tall and proud man, carrying a helmet under his arm that was crested with yellow dyed horse hair. At his side was a pair of swords that shared a scabbard. A famous pair of swords, whose prophecies had won him smaller victories already, and bolstered both his confidence and the trust that Emperor Caelus had in him.
In their reflections, he had seen many things. He had seen the Rhee's camp, which lay in a drunken stupor over the loot and plunder that had been carried up the mountain from a sacked city. He saw himself, and his battalion, only the first wave of men to take to the mountain, slaying the barbarians before they could mount a defense. But he had made a mistake by telling these things to his men. For one of them was not truly his.
The first indication that something was wrong was a stirring around them, and by then it was already too late. Men and women bearing swords, axes and spears, rose from the loose earth at either side of them, and struck. The outer side of the formation fell before the men on the inside were aware that they were under attack. Yllicus threw his helmet on, pulling his swords out to defend himself. He looked into their reflections as he fought. He saw each attack seconds before it came, and parried and dodged without fail. But he was already cut off from his men, as the ambushers surrounded him. There were piles of dead already, but the soldiers behind him had raised their shields in a much practiced phalanx to keep the attackers at bay. The attack was compromised, he knew it now. The left hand blade of Seer told him what happened. He saw which one had betrayed his trust, and he saw who to, and why. Yllicus gave an order he hadn't spoken in five years. "Retreat! Back down the mountain," he called to his men over the din, "Regroup at the ship!"
The phalanx started moving down the mountain, harassed on all sides by the barbarians, but Yllicus couldn't move. Every inch of ground he moved back was taken instantly away from him. He was locked in combat with a vast hoard, only surviving because every move he made was guided by prophecy. Before long, he couldn't even see his men in the distance, and his limbs grew tired from the never ending melee. Countless lay dead at his feet, and he knew he would collapse soon, but was determined to kill as many as possible.
"Stop!" a voice called out from above. It was a woman's voice, strong and confident. The second she spoke, the hoard around Yllicus froze, as if they were statues. Could the gods have come to his rescue? he wondered. Was this the very voice of Lithis? No, he saw. Up the mointain, there was a woman of black hair and austere beauty. She was draped in furs to fight off the cold, and Yllicus could see a sword at her hip. He fell to the ground, looking up, wondering if this was a rescuer or another fiend.
As she drew the wicked, curved blade, he knew which.
~~~~
The base camp was abuzz and lively. The airshipmen of the Mountaintaker were reloading ballast to account for the lighter weight that the ship would have, while the wounded soldiers were being attended to by physicians. Those who had stayed behind, and those still strong enough to fight, were forming a perimeter to keep the barbarians away. They had come in high spirits, but they were taking not chances now. They were leaderless, the ranking officers were in a tent somewhere, determining their next move. Should the press on with the campaign? A smaller ship had been dispatched to inform the Emperor, but they couldn't wait for word back to make a decision.
But then, all at once, the men at the perimeter gave cries, some of alarm, some of freight, and a few of joy. The Mountaintaker's captain, Vern, rushed forward to see what the commotion was. He was met with a crowd of almost every single soldier and sailor, gathered around to see something. They parted, and let through a battered, exhausted Yllicus. His helmet was missing, his cloak was torn and his armor battered, and he had a rag tied tightly around his right thigh. But he was alive, and he still held Seer in its scabbard.
The only words he spoke were to the Captain, "Pack up, we leave now," before he disappeared into his personal cabin.
In their reflections, he had seen many things. He had seen the Rhee's camp, which lay in a drunken stupor over the loot and plunder that had been carried up the mountain from a sacked city. He saw himself, and his battalion, only the first wave of men to take to the mountain, slaying the barbarians before they could mount a defense. But he had made a mistake by telling these things to his men. For one of them was not truly his.
The first indication that something was wrong was a stirring around them, and by then it was already too late. Men and women bearing swords, axes and spears, rose from the loose earth at either side of them, and struck. The outer side of the formation fell before the men on the inside were aware that they were under attack. Yllicus threw his helmet on, pulling his swords out to defend himself. He looked into their reflections as he fought. He saw each attack seconds before it came, and parried and dodged without fail. But he was already cut off from his men, as the ambushers surrounded him. There were piles of dead already, but the soldiers behind him had raised their shields in a much practiced phalanx to keep the attackers at bay. The attack was compromised, he knew it now. The left hand blade of Seer told him what happened. He saw which one had betrayed his trust, and he saw who to, and why. Yllicus gave an order he hadn't spoken in five years. "Retreat! Back down the mountain," he called to his men over the din, "Regroup at the ship!"
The phalanx started moving down the mountain, harassed on all sides by the barbarians, but Yllicus couldn't move. Every inch of ground he moved back was taken instantly away from him. He was locked in combat with a vast hoard, only surviving because every move he made was guided by prophecy. Before long, he couldn't even see his men in the distance, and his limbs grew tired from the never ending melee. Countless lay dead at his feet, and he knew he would collapse soon, but was determined to kill as many as possible.
"Stop!" a voice called out from above. It was a woman's voice, strong and confident. The second she spoke, the hoard around Yllicus froze, as if they were statues. Could the gods have come to his rescue? he wondered. Was this the very voice of Lithis? No, he saw. Up the mointain, there was a woman of black hair and austere beauty. She was draped in furs to fight off the cold, and Yllicus could see a sword at her hip. He fell to the ground, looking up, wondering if this was a rescuer or another fiend.
As she drew the wicked, curved blade, he knew which.
~~~~
The base camp was abuzz and lively. The airshipmen of the Mountaintaker were reloading ballast to account for the lighter weight that the ship would have, while the wounded soldiers were being attended to by physicians. Those who had stayed behind, and those still strong enough to fight, were forming a perimeter to keep the barbarians away. They had come in high spirits, but they were taking not chances now. They were leaderless, the ranking officers were in a tent somewhere, determining their next move. Should the press on with the campaign? A smaller ship had been dispatched to inform the Emperor, but they couldn't wait for word back to make a decision.
But then, all at once, the men at the perimeter gave cries, some of alarm, some of freight, and a few of joy. The Mountaintaker's captain, Vern, rushed forward to see what the commotion was. He was met with a crowd of almost every single soldier and sailor, gathered around to see something. They parted, and let through a battered, exhausted Yllicus. His helmet was missing, his cloak was torn and his armor battered, and he had a rag tied tightly around his right thigh. But he was alive, and he still held Seer in its scabbard.
The only words he spoke were to the Captain, "Pack up, we leave now," before he disappeared into his personal cabin.
EDIT: I still need people to fill out our ranks. The IC/OOC thread is here.
I was putting a lot of work into this world right before the site went down. While it was down, my mind kept churning, and I've been making vast improvements on what I had originally. I have it all on a google doc, but here's the very basic gist.
A master craftsman, long ago, made eight swords that were so perfect, the gods recognized their skill and blessed them each with their own power. With two of them, the Warlord Octavius Tharas began his conquest of the rest of the known world. Generations later, the world is mostly at peace, with the exception of the one country that the Tharans failed to conquer. They have become restless as of late.
Google doc is right here:
Right here, y'all.
Three of the swords(Seeker, Earthshaker and Witchblade) are off limits, one(Seer) is already claimed by one of my collaborators.
Bear in mind that there is no magic in this world, other than that of the gods.
A lot of GMs will put in secret codes and junk to make sure that people read everything. I'm not going to do that, but I will be ruthless to anyone who makes a mistake.
I was putting a lot of work into this world right before the site went down. While it was down, my mind kept churning, and I've been making vast improvements on what I had originally. I have it all on a google doc, but here's the very basic gist.
A master craftsman, long ago, made eight swords that were so perfect, the gods recognized their skill and blessed them each with their own power. With two of them, the Warlord Octavius Tharas began his conquest of the rest of the known world. Generations later, the world is mostly at peace, with the exception of the one country that the Tharans failed to conquer. They have become restless as of late.
Google doc is right here:
Right here, y'all.
Three of the swords(Seeker, Earthshaker and Witchblade) are off limits, one(Seer) is already claimed by one of my collaborators.
Bear in mind that there is no magic in this world, other than that of the gods.
A lot of GMs will put in secret codes and junk to make sure that people read everything. I'm not going to do that, but I will be ruthless to anyone who makes a mistake.
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