Hexaflexagon

Síðasta: A Tale of Fantasy

@POOHEAD189
It began and ended about two years ago in about the span of three months.

Síðasta: A Tale of Fantasy

@my Lalia
Yep everything looks good now! Accepted!

Síðasta: A Tale of Fantasy

@POOHEAD189
We indeed still have some room. Welcome aboard!

Síðasta: A Tale of Fantasy

@TheWizardLizard
Very spooky indeed.

@Godric
Well Medicine is a little mixture of both. Most medical needs are treated by doctors and herbalis and back when magic existed for a price those so inclined could use thier magic to perform miracles. But that doesn't happen no more really.

These days it's mostly stitching, bandages and the like. Potions exist but they aren't really magical and can't just be drunken and have wounds be healed at an accelerated rate only magic could do that. Now they only have the slow hand of time. But the correct mixture of herbs could dull pain or slow down hemorrhageing

@POOHEAD189
Glad to answer your questions

Basically The RP is currently going to be broken up into three main parts really.

The first is The Siege. The players get to decide how this works, do they eitherr support those who want to evacuate the city or those that want to fight the Wildlings to the last man. Either way that is going to invole holding the city either just as long as it takes to get all the people out or till the end of time.

Inevitably though the city will fall and the survivors of the destruction must flee South. This is Part 2 chronicling the long road south as the player characters are not only responsible for themselves but for those other survivors as they all flee together plagued by adversity from every angle.

Eventually they will reach their destination in the south, and that is part Three. What happens after that... well is a surprise. xD

Síðasta: A Tale of Fantasy

And the time for reviews have come!

@my Lalia
Hey Lalia, haven't seen you around in awhile! Overall I like the concept of Taza, interesting to have somebody who still has some amount of faith in the gods that had abandoned them to there wretched fate. My only complaint really is if maybe you could flesh out her background just a little bit more. As it sort of leaves some holes mostly the gaps between the time she was 15 and the present. You know in that time important things like the Gods War happened and how such events may have effected her. But beside that everything else is looking pretty good!

@Athinar
A gruff north man, a man after my own heart. My concern is the same as Lalia's really, while the background does give a general idea of his history, it once again is a little more sparse than I would prefer. Give it a little more detail and a little more meat to it and everyone else looks good!

@vietmyke
Yeah, I'd probably recommend changing the last name. Wyld is a word that is going to be thrown around a lot if you haven't guessed already. Well she certainly came out differently than the first idea you pitched to me but I kind of like this one more to tell you the truth! I wonder if all her fancy martial training will be any good when push comes to shove. She's quite the jack of all trades But I trust you enough to know you won't forget the master of none part and make her into a walking war god. Anyway accepted!

@TheWizardLizard
Ah the good knight come to save us all. Hmm the background is once again a little sparse but it does at least provided a nice little path work to follow how he got from point A to Point B. I wonder how the cliched Knight of Virtue is going to deal in a world that spits on those ideals wherever it sees fit. Anyway I see no major problems really so Accepted as well!

@Godric
Ahh a merchant of all things most interesting indeed! Anyway much of the same deal as the @TheWizardLizard background is sparse but serviceable and tells how he got to know effectively enough, and everything else looks good, he sounds like a right bastard which means I will probably love him. Accepted

Síðasta: A Tale of Fantasy

Hey everybody! It's the weekend so my schedule means that I don't have to pop in at random hours to check on things when I should be sleeping! I'll start looking over the first batch of sheets sometime rather soon!

Síðasta: A Tale of Fantasy

@Lauder
Sure! Welcome aboard the S.S We are all going to die terribly!

Síðasta: A Tale of Fantasy

@TheWizardLizard@Athinar@Maxwell@Godric@vietmyke

Click Me! The OOC is now up! If you have any questions feel free to throw them my way either in the OOC or through PM.

Síðasta: A Tale of Fantasy

I N S T R U C T I O N S:

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• Using the provided template, please create a character sheet
• All other posts to the OOC tab.
• Please first post your CSs to the OOC, only Character sheets that have been accepted by me shall go here.

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Application

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Name Goes Here

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_{"A fancy quote"}

| NICKNAME |

Some people have nicknames, some don't.

| AGE |

5-100 or whatever suits your fancy

| PHYSICAL APPEARANCE |

Give us a paragraph or two of what your character looks like, how they dress et cetra. Give us a good picture of what they look like, the more detail the better. A picture can be used to supplement the description but the description should be able to stand on its own without the picture if you catch my gist.

| PSYCHOLOGICAL ANALYSIS |

What makes them tick? What irks them, who are they? Basically the personality but a little bit more than that.

| BACKGROUND INFORMATION |

Either a couple of paragraphs or a whole analytical essay. Remember quality over quantity. Kiddos.

| CHARACTER MOTIVATION |

Everybody has a goal from getting the girl, to getting vengeance, to saving the day. What motivates your character?

| SKILLS |

Everybody is good at something and it is those skills that may just mean life and death on the long road ahead

| EQUIPMENT |

What do they carry on their persons?

| OTHER |

If anything else suits your fancy

For Easy Copying and Pasting

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[center][h1]Name Goes Here[/h1][/center]

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[center][sub][i]"A fancy quote"[/i][/sub][/center]

[b]| NICKNAME |[/b]
[color=gray][indent] Some people have nicknames, some don't.[/indent][/color]

[b]| AGE |[/b]
[color=gray][indent]5-100 or whatever suits your fancy[/indent][/color]

[b]| PHYSICAL APPEARANCE |[/b]
[color=gray][indent]Give us a paragraph or two of what your character looks like, how they dress et cetra. Give us a good picture of what they look like, the more detail the better. A picture can be used to supplement the description but the description should be able to stand on its own without the picture if you catch my gist.[/indent][/color]

[b]| PSYCHOLOGICAL ANALYSIS |[/b]
[color=gray][indent]What makes them tick? What irks them, who are they? Basically the personality but a little bit more than that.
[/indent][/color]

[b]| BACKGROUND INFORMATION |[/b]
[color=gray][indent]
Either a couple of paragraphs or a whole analytical essay. Remember quality over quantity. Kiddos.
[/indent][/color]

[b]| CHARACTER MOTIVATION | [/b]
[color=gray][indent]Everybody has a goal from getting the girl, to getting vengeance, to saving the day. What motivates your character?[/indent][/color]

[b]| SKILLS |[/b]
[color=gray][indent]Everybody is good at something and it is those skills that may just mean life and death on the long road ahead[/indent][/color]

[b]| EQUIPMENT |[/b]
[color=gray][indent]What do they carry on their persons? [/indent][/color]

[B]| OTHER |[/B]
[COLOR=gray][indent]If anything else suits your fancy[/indent][/color]

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GM Character Sheets

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Barric

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Barric

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_{"With death it's not a matter of if but more of a matter of when."}

| NICKNAME |

Barric The Spear

| AGE |

40

| PHYSICAL APPEARANCE |

From first glances the thing that becomes apparent almost immediately is that Barric is no northerner by blood at least. From his auburn now splattered with clumps and streaks of grey to his aquiline nose and jagged jawline hidden beneath a rough beard, he very strongly carries the blood of the south in his veins. Despite this the man carries the same rough sense of purpose in his gait and way of carrying himself that is distinctively northern in its appearance. His build is lean and spryly in its appearance lean and built for endurance rather than the explosive strength of most northern warriors. This combined with the fact that he is naturally shorter than his northern brothers making him seem like a twig among towering tree trunks. Deep set into his angular face are a pair of light brown eyes that once seemed to twinkle with a sort of mischievousness to them but theses days just seem tired and worn out by the constant pressures of trying to just survive another day.

Barric dresses in what most would considered normal for his environment draped in a combination of heavy furs and tanned leather with a large cloak of dark fur atop it all. He still wears his whalers boots wherever he goes the thick hide perfect for keeping the snow out and the heat in rising about to just below his knee in length. The clothing is designed for function not appearance and that function is to weather the cold. The layers themselves provided some protection from weapons as they must force their way through them to get to naked flesh but a axe in a well used hand could easily cut through it without much of a care in the world. The furs themselves always seem to carry the particular odor of thick wood smoke upon them so much to the fact that some suspect that the smell is not trapped in the furs but in Barric himself.

| PSYCHOLOGICAL ANALYSIS |

Once Barric would of said that his only dream was to see the world, to experience everything life had to offer and maybe sleep with a few lovely ladies. Yet that time had long since past and priorities seemed to have tampered with age. Now he could care less about the world, hell he could care less about himself now his only concern was for his children. When they born all those years ago, Barric didn't want them, he found the idea of children utterly repulsing but he stayed anyway, he stayed because it was the right thing to do. Yet slowly he found himself caring for two little rather stupid blobs that he would call daughter and son. He watched them grow, he watched them learn to walk and he taught them important things like how to fish and how to make a spear. Then his wife died in the first few months of the endless winter leaving him alone with them in the world. By that point they were almost adults by most standards and they could look after themselves but he couldn't loose anybody else. Now all he cares about is keeping them alive, is keeping his family together and getting through whatever hell they have been cast into.

Beside his strong devotion to his family Barric is known around Aoalvik as probably one of the most dependable people you'll ever have the pleasure of meeting. When he used to serve on the Jarl's council as the spokesman for the sailors and fisherman he was known to fiercely debate upon issues and stood up for the ideas that he believed in. He was a so called pillar of the community, a natural born leader that made sure that everybody got what they were needed and that problems were solved quickly and with efficiency. And he did it all with a smile on his face. But that was some time ago and the death of his wife changed him much making him more more reclusive than he was, almost always either being found in the tavern drinking by himself or at his home in some sort of deep thought. These days Barric is tired, pushed forward by a steadfast resolve in spite of his own failures and sorrows.

| BACKGROUND INFORMATION |

Not much is known about Barric's past before he came to Aoalvik, not even his children really know. But from what can be gathered it is believed that Barric grew up in the southern port town of Byrle to an alcoholic mother and an absent father. To escape from his family life at the tender age of ten Barric became a cabin boy on a trade ship and left Byrle swearing to never come back as long as he breathed. For the next several years he jumped from ship to ship traveling the world and learning the ways of a sailor as he earned his keep doing meager tasks like swabbing the deck and peeling potatoes. One faithful day though at the age of twenty one, he found himself on a southern trader heading to the far north to the port city of Aoalvik. Barric did not want to go to the north, he'd traveled their before in his time and he found the people unruly and the climate far too cold for his liking. But the pay was good and he needed the coin, so he went along anyway. He never expected to stay in Aoalvik, he never expected to become used to the cold and the people, he never expected to find the love of his life selling furs in the Aoalvik market with her father.

They never do of course.

He stumbled out of a tavern trying to drink away the cold when he saw Signe. She was the most beautiful girl that Barric had ever had the pleasure of seeing. She stood tall and proud arguing with a merchant about the price of furs. Her long dirty blond hair fell to about her waist and her green eyes were strong and fierce, a deep scar running across the nose of her face. Thus he did not return to his boat which was leaving port that day and began the process of trying to court the girl. At first she was hesitant of Barric, the people of the north did not look kindly to outsiders such as him with his odd accent and strange mannerisms. But if Barric was one thing he was persistent and over the days and weeks she slowly began to warm up to the stranger and warmth became friendship, and friendship became affection and affection as it sometimes does ended up becoming love.

The first few years were tough on Barric even after he married Signe and the twins were born. He found work on on the whaling ships that called Aoalvik its home port, and showed his worth as a sailor, but even so he was still the outsider. He was still the southern that had come into their world, took one of their woman and was pretending to be something more than he wasn't. People often did their most to try and not talk to the man or even look in his direction and if they even had any questions or things for the family they would direct them towards Signe rather than himself. But that would all change the day he earned the title he openly hates Barric The Spear.

It was an early spring day and Barric's ship among the others were already heading out for a days work. But upon the horizon they spotted something, something that struck fear into the hearts of even the strongest men. Three Wylding Raider longboats cresting over the horizon sails unfurled and oars slicing through the water at a breathtaking pace. With their gargantuan size and seemingly unnatural strength they soared through the thawing water heading straight towards the clusters of ships. Panic arose among the crews as they tried to turn around to return to the safety of Aoalvik. But it was no northern man that answered the call of courage that day, it was Barric the southerner who had dealt with many a pirate in his time. Rather than try and retreats from the steadily advancing longboats and been inevitably cut down in the process, Barric rallied the sailors and staged a defense against the ships using their bigger if less heavily armed whaling vessels and trade ships to smash into the weaker longboats before leaping on board spear in hand and assaulting the surprised Wyldings. That day no ships were lost to the Wyldings an almost unheard of feat and from that point onward Barric was no longer a stranger but as one of them.

From that point forward Barric became something of what you call a pillar of the community, becoming the representative of the fisherman on the Jarl's council and helping keep Aoalvik generally running in tip top shape. He was elected to the position five consecutive times by his peers and refused a sixth nomination feeling that he was getting too old for the job and that new and passionate blood had to fill his place. During this time Barric began to focous more energy on making sure that his kids grew up right and learned the things that they needed to surive. All seemed well.

Then the Gods War Happened.

The unnatural winter cold came quick and it came hard. The chill of those winds took the breath away from Signe. She had a cold, a cold that at any other time she could of gotten over within a weeks time. But this time there was no such luck, the cold pushing forward and sapping her life away without reprieve. Barric was shattered, broken and destroyed become nothing more than the former shadow of himself. He took to drinking his troubles away and took to it hard. It has been two years since then, two years since the world started to fall apart and in that time Barric has never seemed to fully regain who he was before his wife death, but he stays alive and he stays strong not for himself but for his children. Determined to make sure that they make it through whatever lays ahead.

| CHARACTER MOTIVATION |

To put it plain and simple, all Barric wishes to do is make sure that his children make it through. He doesn't care about anything else or anything else in particular.

| SKILLS |

• The Sea's Calling: By trade Barric is an accomplished sailor, if it floats and there is liquids well the man can probably get it halfway across the world if you gave him some time.
• The Pointy End Use The Pointy End!: Barric knows his way around a spear well enough as it is his preferred weapon if the need arises to defend himself.
• Pillar of The Community: Barric is well respected by people around Aoalvik, they listened to him and value his opinion. Guess he just has one of those faces I suppose.
• Stonefaced Mcgee: Barric is notoriously hard to read, don't play cards with the man it will only end badly.

| EQUIPMENT |

• The Lucky Spear: It was the same spear he used to kill the Wylding leaders all those years ago. He takes it wherever he goes usually strapped to his back.
• Traveling Pack: The pack is filled with some basic survival necessitates, he sewed it himself back when he was a lad.
• Hunting Knife: Useful for both close quarters combat and skinning animals
• Pendant: A pendant that he wears upon his neck, his wife give it to him on their wedding day. It is supposed to keep evil away.

| OTHER |

Hi!

Aleia

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Aleia

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_{"There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self."}

| NICKNAME |

Nope.

| AGE |

18

| PHYSICAL APPEARANCE |

Out of the twins Aleia certainly takes after her father more than her mother with the southern blood showing apparent in her appearance. Unlike her father though, Aleia is not a small and slender creature. She stands taller than him and is of a strong and muscular build intimidating in its appearance akin to in modernity something like a MMA fighter. Her hair is a little lighter than her fathers showing more red than his darker browns and her eyes an icy blue much like her mothers. A line of freckles dances across her nose and cheeks above a small nose and a mouth that seems almost permanently etched into some sort of smirk. Despite this Aleia has an air of a warrior about her much, more than either her brother or even her father at times with a determined expression and a way of carrying herself that shows that she means business. There is a large claw mark going from her left ear downward towards the tip of her chin gained while on patrol when they ran into a rather angry bear. Her hair is kept short falling at just about ear length in level allowing it to easily be fit inside a helmet.

Usually Aleia can be seen in the chain mail and fur garb of the town guard, sword and shield in hand. The uniform is kept well intact by the girl and clean much like her weapons showing a particular intensity in the caring for and overall dedication shown in her work. When she is not wearing her outfit, she wears simple clothes of cloth that appear if a little bit baggy upon her. It is not hard to figure out that Aleia is not one that cares much for her own physical appearance and if she could just stay in her uniform at all times she would probably do it. It makes things simpler, one less annoyance to think about.

| PSYCHOLOGICAL ANALYSIS |

When she was younger Aleia was a much different person. She enjoyed goofing off with her brother, going on adventures and generally causing a great ruckus everywhere she went. She saw the world as a place filled with adventure just waiting for her to run out and grab it. She was going to be a Warrior Queen, A Rider of Dragons, A Wizard and fifty other things by the time she was ten. Then the snow began to fall and never stop, and then her mother died. It was this moment that caused something of a turning point in her life, she went from fun loving and serious to somber and very goal oriented. Joining up with the city guard, she turned her anger and aggression towards something more productive allowing her to at least vent out her emotions. She had to be strong to just for herself, but for her father and her brother. She had to be able to protect everybody and to make sure nobody else died. She had to do something. On that note she is fiercely protective of her brother and gods help any who would dare to try and harm him.

Of course though this air of stalwart responsibility is something of a facade. A carefully constructed ruse that she built after her mother died, so that she seemed strong so that her father stopped worrying about her. On the inside she is something of a wreck caught between her own feelings that everything is pointless and spiraling heavily out of control as even the gods have left, so why are they still around? As people she knows are dying and starving while she's supposed to be helping keep the order and keep everybody from killing one another while she can barely keep her own head on straight. But of course she never displays this outwardly, she bits her lip and keeps the screaming and the crying on the inside. Because you know this is real healthy for a young person, real healthy indeed.

| BACKGROUND INFORMATION |

Aleia is the older of the twins by a margin of less than a minuet but none the less flaunts it over her younger brother. Out of the two of them she was certainty the more troublesome of the pair while he would read and play his instruments, Aleia would sneak out of the house to go on adventures, climb buildings and often fall off of them. She was always an anxious child, never being comfortable standing in the same place for long and always wanting to do something, go somewhere never content with just sitting around. In short she possessed much of the same adventurous spirit that drove her father in his youth something that two of them managed to bound over, as Barric would occasionally help his young daughter sneak out of the house and go on the whaling ship with him so that she could pretend to be a pirate or something.

There life was a simple one if not a good one. They didn't have much in terms of money but they had enough so that they wouldn't starve at night and unlike some her parents loved one another very much allowing for a well established and stable family life. As she grew up while her brother had more of a well defined path going ahead of him, Aleia had less luck meandering about rather unsure of what she wanted to do with her life. She never thought about joining up with the guard until she was actually approached by them. She had just gotten into a fight with some larger boys that were trying to get money of her brother. A poor circumstances for them as while Aleia got a busted nose and some new bruises from the encounter, they got a couple of broken bones and a crushed source of pride. The guards were impressed with the girls skill when they had to eventually come in and break up the fight and prevent Aleia from pounding one of the boys head into the stone work. They didn't throw her in the stockades out of respect for her father but they did suggest that if the girl wanted to use her fighting prowess for something a little bit more productive and helpful for society.

The girl would not remembered those words until her mother died some time later. The remnants of her family acted quite differently to the tragedy that fell before them. Her father took to isolating himself and drinking his feelings away, her brother lost himself in the moment become more and more self-destructive wanting to feel everything else beside the pain and Aleia buried it all deep within herself refusing to show any emotion at all. She joined up the guard and lost herself in the training and the day to day activity pushing away the feelings and focusing on the day by day. The work went by as the routine became almost numbing to her and two years seemed to pass by in a blink of an eye. And now the Wyldings are coming and what in the gods name is she supposed to do now?

| CHARACTER MOTIVATION |

Aleia is driven forward by a strong sense of duty. Duty to the city, duty to the people and most importantly duty to her family.

| SKILLS |

Sword and Board: Aleia is well accustomed to her choice weapons a hand axe and a large reinforced round sheild.
Fall Down? Get back up: Aleia demonstrates a surprisingly level of resilience able to take a lot of hits before she falls down.
Grace Under Pressure: At the worst of teams Aleia can keep her head on straight or at least fake the appearance of keeping calm under the trials of life.
Strong Like Ox: Aleia possess tremendous levels of raw strength very useful for common activities like picking up and carrying heavy things and also useful for putting as much weight as possible behind her swings.

| EQUIPMENT |

• Hand Axe
• Round Shield
• Armor

| OTHER |

Hi again!

Falke

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Falke

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_{"Tried to fight the creeping sense of dread with temporal things. Most of the time I guess I felt all right."}

| NICKNAME |

Fally: Used almost exclusively by his sister much to his annoyance

| AGE |

18

| PHYSICAL APPEARANCE |

From outward appearances, Falke can be described most easily as a conventionally handsome lad. Unlike his sister, Falke seems to have much more of the northern blood in him. His stands with a lean and tall build meant more for stamina and endurance than the brute strength of his sister. His hair is a dark blonde in color almost nearing towards lighter shades of red and brown depending on the light and is kept pulled up in a messy looking ponytail of sorts. He possesses a strong jaw line and a cocky if a little bit crooked smile. His eyes are an eerily match to his father's when he was younger the same light green matched with the same mischievous twinkle. Unlike his sister who could care little for appearances, Falke is well aware of the fact that those of both sexes considered him to be fairly attractive and he milks that for all its prospective worth. A real charmer don't cha know.

Falke dresses in normal clothes for a skald in simple leathers and furs nothing too garish. Though they are certainty tailored by his own hand to be more form fitting as opposed to his sisters appearance. He's volunteered to do the same for her clothing so that she could catch the eye of a man, but alas she seems uninterested in such things much to Falke's disappointment. The most noticable thing about his attire though is the amount of pockets, an almost outrageous amount and almost all of the pockets are filled with something. What do they continue? Well he likes the sense of mystery, so maybe you will find out on day. Or maybe you won't.

| PSYCHOLOGICAL ANALYSIS |

Some people move incredibly fast, never slowing down to the point that there is is no one there to catch them with they inevitable fall in the end. Falke is one of those people. Partly to keep the pain away and partly just to feel anything he moves along through life at a breathtaking pace, taking ridiculousness chances and always chasing after that next hit be it a good high or the most depressing of lows. He does not seem to care rushing ahead as some sort of terrible self destructive tornado whirling ever ahead and taking in and spitting out whatever comes in his path. Fear and thinking doesn't seem to register in his mind as much as they should, instead he acts on animalistic instinct at a snap fire pace, sometimes doing things just to see how bad they make him feel. This react first think later policy causes conflict with almost everybody he meets from his sister and father to anybody else all trying desperately to get him to slow down at least for a little bit.

The boy shows a surprising level of depth though from his self-destructive nature, incredibly well spoken and well read and with a head full of big ideas. This comes from a very strong love and attraction towards stories, stories of all kinds. In the tales and in the words he finds not only solace but like minded ideas and people. They allow him to experience a full range of emotions from the most terrible sadness to the most amazing feelings of happiness. And the stories themselves are everywhere, everyone in the world has a story, a story that Falke wants to find and draw out of them in a desparte attempt to find some sort of connection with another human being.

For all his own problems and hiccups, the boy is if anything else a very charming sort of individual, some would go as far to call him a charlatan and hoaxer but he finds such terms to be such unnecessary cruel in their origin. In truth he's less of a good liar than he is a very good listener, he listens when nobody else does and he does so intently with all his senses. By doing so he has a very particularly good sense at reading somebody and says the words that they needed to hear at the correct moment. He may steal your necklace but he will do it while helping comfort you over the loss of your beloved cat.

Over the years he had became relatively distant from his surviving family, speaking only to his father on some occasions and seemingly avoiding his sister at all costs much to her anger. Maybe he feels guilty, ashamed or something else nobody really knows.

| BACKGROUND INFORMATION |

Falke's earliest memory is of his mother singing to him. He doesn't know why she is, but he knows he is in her arms and she is rocking him back and forth gently while in a gentle flowing voice signs an old northern ballad. It seemed fitting for a young man who would evidently traveler down the path of a storyteller and a performer. Falke was always a little bit different as a child than his sister or most of the normal kids in Aoalvik. He did not pretend to be a warrior by waving a stick around or try to climb the outside of the guard tower without being caught. Most of Falke time was spent sitting on the floor of the local tavern where his mother worked listening to the Skalds work there craft spinning stories of heroes and singing songs which could break the hearts of even the most stone faced gentlemen. He fell in love with this craters of word and song, finding himself memorizing every word to the tales they weaved and practicing the dramatic motions they used while they spoke. He begged his parents to get him a lute and one day his father came back from the harbor with one which he practiced with day and night even as his fingers bled to be able to play it properly.

It was only till Falke was a little bit older that he realized he could use these talents for more than just telling stories. He realized he could use such talents to get what he wanted from people with a well placed story and the proper belief behind it. The first time he did so he was eight years old and by pretending to a be a small urchin he received free food and some coin from a kindly lady. From that point forward Falke was off to the races and where he went trouble seemed to follow almost exclusively hot on his heels. Normally he'd end up pushing way too deep and getting himself way over his hell either scheming the wrong person or making the wrong guys sister sad, resulting in having to have his sister bail him out of trouble and making sure that he kept all the teeth inside of his mouth. But all seemed to be good, everybody was happy at least. Then his mother died.

The death of his mother may have effected Falke ever more than his father. Falke had always shared a deeper connection with his mother than he did was his mother, as the one life line that still beloved that underneath his troublesome exterior that their was still a good person laying somewhere beneath it all. No matter what she still loved him and she was always proud of him. When she died what little restraint Falke still possessed sort of just flew straight out the window. He lost himself in drink, money and the pleasures of flesh all in equal amounts as all seemed to fly about plenty in what seemed to be the end of the world. He went down his path as a performer more than he did before. He came home late if he came home at all spending his time playing in the taverns for coin and wandering the streets looking for more stories.

| CHARACTER MOTIVATION |

With the collapse of society and the Wyldings burning down villages and cities lots of culture and history is being lost day by day. Falke wishes to preserve this culture in his own special way by collecting as many stories as he can.

| SKILLS |

• Charmer: If Falke is good at one thing that is talking to people, telling stories and the like. He carries a charismatic air about him and is very good at getting people to do what he wants, rallying crowds et cetra.
• Performer: Beside being a pretty good story teller, Falke can hold a pretty solid tune.
• Blush Response: Falke is by most standards a fairly attractive young man and knows how to use that to his advantage. Can looks kill though? Probably not.
• Sleight of Hand: now you see it, now you don't.
• Well Read: He knows a lot about the world. Most of it is pretty useless but hey you never know.
• Fight Dirty: Falke isn't that great in a fight so to be able to win one, he has learned to use every advantage he has at his dishonorable no matter how dishonorable they may be.

| EQUIPMENT |

• Lute
• Large Book: It is filled with the stories and tales he had collected over the years
• Travelers pack: The same sort of make as his father's.
• Knife: Somewhere between a big knife and a small sword, used mostly for utility purposes instead of defense most of the time.

| OTHER |

Bye!

Síðasta: A Tale of Fantasy

Síðasta

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_{T H E G O D S H A V E L E F T U S.
T H E W O R L D T R E M B L E S I N T H I E R A B S E N C E
O C E A N S R O A R A N D M O U T A I N S B U C K L E.
A S M A G I C T H I E R F I R S T G I F T V A N I S H E S E M P I R E S F A L L.
Y E T T H E W O R L D S T I L L T U R N S.}

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Once mortals and gods existed in harmony. The gods as the all powerful bringers of creation and we as the ever grateful worshipers glad to have been chosen. The gods were pleased by our devotion and bestowed upon us many gifts, the first of which was magic. Magic, was but a small taste of their power and yet it would shape the very fabric of civilization. It fueled advances in technology and helped grow empires from small kingdoms and miracles where there was once only the bland and harsh reality of life. Yet it was this first gift that proved to be the most dangerous. Through the use of magic, mortals were introduced to vanity in its most basest form. Magic allowed then to grow powerful, to alter the very fabric of reality if only in short bursts. Magic implanted within us the seeds of rebellion that we could usurp even gods. It was only a matter of time before we acted upon those ideas. Little did we know of the consequences.

The Gods War erupted almost as suddenly as it ended. A group of powerful mages opened a doorway into the gods' realm leading in an army that stretched far beyond the horizon. The intent of this sinner's march was to take the gods' power and to "free man from the chains of servitude". Yet as soon as a mortal man sat upon the All-Father's throne, the gods' realm began to crumble and turn tainted by the wickedness within their hearts. The boundary between the two realms collapsed forever separating creator and creation, forever trapping the sinner's army within the prison of their own creation. The screams of those trapped within the god's realm as it came undone around them could be heard in their for an entire night only followed by the fearsome deafening silence that came afterwards. Thus an age ended with the border between man and god forever severed, the god's who once walked among us and whom shaped the fates for centuries turned there eyes away from their rebellious creation. The sinner's march had done its job at the coast of all those who marched under its causes banner, the world was freed from the wants and desires of the almighty. Little did we know the consequences for such actions.

The gods were the ones that created our world and so it was only natural that without them it would begin to fall apart. Skies once blue turned grey as heavy clouds filled with snow drifted above and let out their unrelenting downfall burying roads, crops and towns within icy prisoners of death. The bitter chill and lacked of resources killed much of the fauna and flora unfit to survive in such environments including many animals essential for hunting further cutting down foodstuffs. Those who did not die in the first few months due to the chill were set upon the slow and painful path of starvation as what little food stores that could be scavenge had to be rationed heavily to sustain even the dwindling populations for more than a couple of days at a time. The savage and unrelenting winter's grip did not just destroy the food but also fragment whatever political unity was left in the world. Mighty empires and kingdoms fragmented and shattered as the many cities that once swore independence to kings and greater ideals broke off form one another becoming independent city states only concerned with their own matters rather than those of a king or emperor that sat far away with food stores aplenty. With these cities concerned about keeping what meager peace they could within their own walls, the roads that they once protected as the vital veins of civilization were now abandoned and haunted by wandering bandits intent on pillage what little they could from those brave enough to weather the wilds, further compounding the dreadful isolation.

As the world fades, so does magic itself. Magic was a so called gift given to the faithful in exchange for their good service to the gods or that is how all the legends go. The emergence of magic changed the world as it was known forever shaping science, industry and every life allowing repairs to be down instantly for great tunnels and canals to be built with only a matter of the mind and even raise fortresses into the sky. But now magic has seemed to vanish from the world, once powerful sorceress and mages can no longer even do what would accumulate to even a basic spell anymore. The very fabric of society based heavily upon the use of what was once lost shifted and collapsed as power became measured not be intellect or political clot but by brute strength and size of armies. Yet not just civilization was effected by the lose of such a vital resource, creatures which depended upon magic for their survival began to fade away. Small creatures such is faeries and pixies vanished in their entirety from the world never to be seen again with only stories of them remaining. Larger creatures fared little better: trolls, giants and even the great dragons themselves which once ruled the skies became severely weakened and infertile cursed to slowly fade away with the knowledge that they are the very last of their kind.

To make matters worse there was the matter of the Wyld Folk. These northern savages lived far beyond the reaches of civilization in the frozen wastes at the tip of the world but sometimes they move southwards for unexplained reasons. Some believe it is because the winter had hit their frozen lands even harder and they moved south to find warmer climes but some think something else had occurred, something far more sinister. Five times have the Wyld Folk pushed south and five times they were repulsed but during those times the lands were united and armies could be marshaled to fight back the advancing barbarians. This time there was no such army, no such unification to repulse the brutes as they marched leaving only ruined cities and destruction in their wake. Without a proper army or the supplies to stop them, the vast horde seems to be all but impossible to stop further destroying any remnants of life desperately clinging to the world in their own fight for survival.

And so everything seems to be fading away into the snow and into the cold embrace of death. Yet life goes on as long as the world still turns.

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Resilience

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This story begins in the port city of Aoalvik located on the northern shore of White Crystal Bay. Before the Gods War, Aoalvik was the most prosperous trading hub past the Fingers sending furs and whale meat and oil on southbound ships who in return came to the city with vast supplies of foodstuffs and other luxary items from the more gentle climates. But then snows came and the White Crystal Bay froze over with ice so thick that no long ship could get through her waters intact. When the Wyld Folk began to be spotted and began to leave a path of destruction and death in their wake, many fled to Aoalvik with its high walls of stone thinking that they could take a ship further south to escape carnage not knowing that the state of the Bay. In any other winter, it freezing over would of not been a problem for mages could use fire magics to burn a channel through the ice to allow the ships to pass, but now without magic they were trapped. Ever still though many flocked to the port thinking that they could at least take refuge within its walls where the garrison could protect them better than them trying to defend themselves in their small villages.

To his credit Jarl Sigbjorn of Aoalvik took in many of the first waves of refugees that came to the society intent on protecting those that needed it. But as more and more heard of promises of safety, warmth and food many flocked to the city much more than the port could handle without starving itself out or falling to anarchy. So the Jarl to protect his people and to ensure as many as possible could survive he shut the gates to the city. Guards manned the walls of the city at all times not protecting against the arrival of the Wyld Folk but against the peasants and villagers that tried daily to get into the city firing arrows and dumping hot water upon the angry crowds below. Despite this the refugees, still camp outside the city walls with some ill fated hope that the Jarl will change his mind filling the surrounding flatland with tents and the mill of activity lands that will run red with blood once the Wyld Folk arrive.

Yet time is running out for Aoalvik and all both inside and outside it walls. During the nights upon the horizon one can see the first edges of the Wyld Folk Camp, approaching closer and closer by the day. The city itself is plagued with infighting and chaos with the Jarl refusing to leave his Great Hall or muster any sort of defense against the Wyldlings too afraid that if he does than the angry populace will the storm the undefended hall and kill him in their wild anger. Some want to stand and fight, others want to leave either by fleeing along the coast or by crossing the iced over bay but without a consolidating effort in any of the attempts nothing will work as their own indecisiveness and infighting will be the end of them. Soon the Wyldings will be at the walls and soon even Aoalvik will fall, but if they are lucky and persistent enough maybe some will surive the onslaught to live another day.

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Tales

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Important GM messages, updates on story progression and anything else that needs to be viewable by all will be posted here.

6/15/16 We are live and now accepting applications! Please post the application to the OOC and not the character sheet tab. Only accepted character sheets can go in that tab. Thank you and have a nice day.

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Rules

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01: I'm not the biggest fan of rules because I like to assume everybody is sane human being so I'll keep this short. If you have to abide by any rules be it these two. Common decency and common sense is something that everybody should strive for. Treat your fellow humans like they are just that your fellow humans and with all the respect that implies. Disputes between players should not be long blown out affairs in the OCC, hell disputes should not happen at all if we are doing this right. If you want to argue have your characters dispute about something mundane like the importance of starch or something.
02: In regards to any roleplay involving the dark depravity of mankind and the end of the world there are mature themes within this story. This is not a very nice world and terrible things happen to good people for no good reason. In that regard I heavily suggest you treat these matters with the weight that they would actually entitle. Romance falls into the same thing, sure it can happen just don't be stupid about it
03: Quality matters people, show me that you care. And remember I'm asking for your best not the best of Shakespeare or the like. I've been doing this shit for about a decade now and I'm still learning things everyday. Just remember Quality over Quantity and always remember Fail Faster.

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