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    1. Harbringer 12 yrs ago

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11 yrs ago
Current Why is ecology so dry...

Bio

20 year old skinny asian living in Australia. Nothing much to say really. Despiser of the YOLO generation. Acts more like a crochety old man. Has two dogs. Pets them a lot and applies the same logic to humans too.

Most Recent Posts

If you have room for one more, I've got a half-working CS up already.

In Feral 12 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
Outside of the council building, Garran sat with the rest of the usual group, on top of a section of his mine which had lost its prongs during one scuffle or another. His captain's jacket had been repaired and it was draped majestically on his back, its long sleeves dragging along the ground as its faded golden highlights shimmered with a dull shine. The rusty chain of the weapon was nervously gripped over his shoulder as his worn leather boot tapped repeatedly on the ground, accompanied by the occassional roll of the cigar in his mouth. To be honest, Garran had no stake in this matter. The war between humans, daeva and seraphims put nothing he had at risk. In fact, he could probably have profited greatly from this conflict by enacting a mercenary contract with a kingdom and ferrying arms to and fro. Being a pirate captain with his own small fleet of ships, it would ahve let him live a comfortable life. And yet here he was, waiting anxiously for the results of a conflict he had nothing to do with.

The truth of the matter, however, was that Garran had a self-imposed stake in this conflict. After commanding the evacuation of Dumont and Boaz, he saw what a small conflict could cause to the common people, or rather, he had always known, but had finally witnessed first hand. Even as a pirate, he had refrained from port sieges, blockades and the like for fear of harming the common people. Now, with the Human Kingdom having mobilised for war, he expected many grieving families from both sides of the conflict. With a sudden crunch, he chewed through the cigar, the lit end falling to the ground without him even noticing. He couldn't allow this war to escalate. "Wh'ts takin' so long," he muttered mostly to himself as he spat out the remains of his cigar, taking a new one out of one of his pockets. Of course, the pounding hangover from yesterday's celebrations didn't help. "I t'ought ye said meetin's lasted 'n hour tops," he shot in an accusing tone towards Caelum, who stood impassively next to him. Compared to the seraphim, Garran looked like a fidgety child. "Usually yes," Caelum replied, stroking one of his yellowed wings, "but never has it been about an impending war, pirate."
The answer didn't seem to satisfy Garran as he stood up and lifted the sea mine with it. "H'w long d'es 't take t' say yes 'r no!" he hissed loudly as his grip tightened on his weapon, the chains shaking and whining under the intense pressure. "There are several factors and factions in play here, Garran, each with their own vested interest," Caelum answered as he stared into space "nothing is ever black and white, merely varying shades of grey."

Hearing huffing an dpanting behind them, the two turned around to see a rather hurried looking seraphim rushing towards them. "Out of my way!" he shouted as he pushed past Garran and Caelum, before disappearing into the depths of the council building. "I w'nder wha' tha' was about..." Garran pondered.
In Feral 12 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
By teardown do you mean BURNING everything?
In Feral 12 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
I'll third pumbas statemeƱt.


The 101st Archorian Penal Legion

A world more plascrete than dirt, Archoria serves as a bastion of defence and a proud example of the tenacity of the Emperor in even the most hellish circumstances. Every one of its citizens, unfit for duty or not, serves within the Planetary Defence Force from the ages of 14 and up, and often continue until they are drafted into one of the many Imperial Guard regiments which are treated as the Imperium's rightful tithe, in place of their scarce resources. At least, that would be what the Planetary Governor would have the Adeptus Administratum think. While on the surface, Archoria may appear to be a fortress world rivalling Cadia in terms of its citizens martial prowess, beneath the mazes of plascrete and rebar lies the seedy underbelly of the planet, a world made even darker by the brilliance of those above ground. With such a militarised system of government in place, it is no wonder why some would seek a life of greater freedom, and it is those people who slip between the cracks who populate this dense undercity.

Only recently has this haven for cutthroats and smugglers become truly noticed by the local Adeptus Arbites, and in an unprecedented rapid action, they started to clean up the undercity and establish a stronger presence, pulling many of their forces from the surface to exterminate the stench and garbage under them. Firefights are common here amongst the narrow chambers and passageways of the undercity, and knife and fistfights even more so. Countless smuggling rings and cage fighters have already been broken up, and their participants rounded up. To these men and women, two choices are given: Rot in a prison cell until execution, or join the ranks of their Imperial Guard.

Recruited from the scum of the world of Archoria which has been transferred onto a nearby hollowed out asteroid, the 101st is a newly formed penal legion that has already been designated for some of the harshest combat zones in their vicinity. Kept in line by a larger than average contingent of commissars and liberal application of explosive and shock collars, the indentured Archorians have little choice but to carry their weapons and soldier onwards. They are commanded by Colonel Phorae, a Vostroyan who consistently mutters about how he is in the wrong station and deserves a more prestigious position. Surrounded by murderous guardsmen and women, it is perhaps not the smartest thing to say, but his constant paranoia has already infected his men and instilled a sense of unhealthy distrust of those outside of the regiment. Designated as a regiment for the 'Meatgrinder', the Archorian's main planned theatre of war so far has been several protracted sieges which they have received barely adequate training for, but given their status, that may just be because they don't plan on having the regiment live much longer.

Build:
Home World: Penal Colony (2pts)
Commanding officer: Bilious (2pts)
Regiment Type: Siege Infantry (2pts)
Training Doctrines: Hardened Fighters (2pts), Close Order Drill (2pts)
Special Equipment: Combat Drugs (2pts)

Stats:

Characteristic Modifiers: +3 Strength, +6 Toughness, -3 Intelligence, +2 Weapon Skill
Starting Skills: Intimidate, Linguistics (Low Gothic), Tech-Use
Starting Talents: Peer(Underworld), Paranoia, Nerves of Steel, Combat Formation or Double Team, Street Fighting
Larcenous: Archorians are used to 'obtaining' items through...less than legal means. They add +10 to any Logistics roll for illicit items or contraband.
Wounds: Archorian Penal Legions start with +1 Wounds.
Standard Regimental Kit: 1 M36 Lasgun with 6 charge packs, 1 Flak Armour, 1 respirator, 4 empty sandbags, 1 entrenching tool, 2 frag grenades, 2 photon flash grenades. (15 points to spend based on what the players want to share)
In Feral 12 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
I'll stuff the post back into the filler folder from whence it came. For another time. Or we can integrate it, if you want. On the other part of the post, I'm kind of conflicted. I'm usually one of the ones who really hate new people coming in. I have to say its usually justified since said newcomer usually leaves within the next week or so given our pace and I don't really interact with them since they never make it into the core group. On the other hand...no wait...I'm not conflicted. Never mind. I couldn't think of anything to say past that initial point. Newcomers haven't really brought much to the table. The only thing I can say is that I was a newcomer at one point, and thank god all traces of that were erased. In short, I guess I'm all for the cutoff, unless someone is really interested and dedicated like the core group.
In Feral 12 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
Post is getting there. So much background needing to be explained.
As the words started to leave the Prince's mouth, Eltharion's glare grew fiercer, until they were merely slits, boring holes into Anaroth's back. The crowd in front of them was silent as well, looking at each other for guidance. Silence reigned as the Prince's words sunk in. Then, a single boot step broke through the chains holding thier head in place as Eltharion stepped towards Anorath. Each dull thud was slow and measure, its rhythm like a heartbeat as the ranger's age-worn leather bootsoles clattered against the wooden stage. Stopping a mere metre away from the Prince, his mysterious violet eyes continued to glare silently, as if judging him. Before anyone could react, his hand flew to his side and drew his survival knife, its broad, serrated edge flying rapidly towards the chink between helmet and breastplate of the prince's armour. Audible gasps pierced the day as the assembled troops looked on in horror. Many tried to draw their weapons and some rushed forward, but it was too late as the blade arced towards Anorath's neck. Then, just as suddenly as he had started, the blade's edge stopped a mere few millimetres away from the prince's neck, close enough to nestle itself between the two armour plates and sending a chilling wind over his throat.

"You would dare to leave the city of Mithreal, Prince?" Eltharion said as he held his blade in place, its keen edge glinting in the sunlight, "abandoning us at our direst time of need under the pretense of reinforcements?" With his hood drawn up and facecloth dragged over his mouth, Eltharion looked like a common assassin. "More than that, you have the audacity to take some of its defenders with you?" he asked as the blade drew closer, its edge now resting on Anaroth's neck, "when it is known that we will require every pair of hands available to simply hold the city?" The ranger tilted his head as the Mithreal garrison paused awkwardly, weapons in hand. Archers had already trained their aim on his head, but did not fire for fear of hitting their leader. Glancing calmly at the multitude of soldiers watching over them, Eltharion scoffed. "The Great Tree of Harbinus is the centre of our beliefs, and we will do anything in our power to secure its safety," he said as he turned back to look at the prince, locking their eyes together and leaning in closer, "even if that means temporarily abandoning it," he whispered, his face mere inches away.

Pulling away, Eltharion withdrew his blade and flung it into the planks of the stage, where the point dug deeply into the wood, quivering where it stuck fast. "I will ready myself for departure, Prince Tel-Thennes," the ranger said as he turned away, heading back towards the Ranger Meeting Hall, "I will ensure that your...promised reinforcements...will arrive," he said as he paused, turning back, "by any means necessary". With that, he resumed his stride, aware that he was still being targetted. And of course he would be. He essentially just threatened one of their highest leaders. But still. Eltharion had to test whether the prince was running with cowardice poisoning his mind, or genuinely working for reinforcements. Either way, he did not expect the elf to take kindly to his threats. Scoffing once more, he changed direction, heading in the direction of the Great Tree of Harbinus,
In Feral 12 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
Come to think of it. Isnt this a symptom of Hagumi's curse?
In Feral 12 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
Ill get started on an intro post.
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