Jb

Codename: Crypt Worm - pseudo-supernatural, dieselpunk, Nazi fighting RP!

Codename: Crypt Worm - The Red, White and Blue

February, 1943.

The Second World War, the most bitter conflict since that which they hoped would be the war to end all wars, is raging across the face of Europe, Africa and in Asia, in tides that move back and forth between the Axis Powers and those of the Allied Forces; in Sicily the Italian forces, disheartened and beginning to regret their lot in this war, are easily swept aside by American and British troops, while in Russia the siege of Stalingrad has ended with the surrender of the German 6th Army.

Russia, that land of endless plains and an enemy who disappears into the landscape, had become a graveyard for many German servicemen and a thorn in the side of Adolf Hitler that may well eventually break him. While the US and Britain push in from the south and west, Russia throws herself against the Nazi scourge in the east, and time is ticking for Germany...time which they do not have.

In an action that der Furher believes could turn the tide back in the favour of his Third Reich, he had given permission to Himmler and his research society of the SS - The Ahnenerbe - charged with reinventing the Germanic and Nordic past of the German people. Having already established a mythos - an odd mingling of pseudo-history, Atlantean and Aryan theory, and neo-Pagan philosophy and symbolism - that is being readily taught to the next generation of young Germans, Hitler now instructs his subordinate to use whatever means necessary to bring Germany an advantage that can win them the war and eventually the world.

It so happens that whilst digging in Iran he discovered something odd, something ancient, something that many might well describe as evil...

A series of papyri scrolls, it is said, containing information relating to a creature, a demonic parasite by most sparse accounts, capable of making man immortal - though not invulnerable to harm - when allowed to enter the body. There are reports through time of similar creatures, some scholars claiming that the numerous Egyptian Pharoahs named Ramses were in fact the very same person, proof that allowing such a thing inside would provide an escape from death and everlasting life.

At what cost?

There are forces at work of which little is known, and of which even less is blinded by the light of day, and - knowing at least that the Nazis are up to something, dabbling in things that they should not be - the Allies have set about forming an organisation to oppose whatever esoteric ideas and supposed dangers that Himmler and his cronies may produce. It goes at this point by the codename 'The Red, White and Blue' after the colour of uniforms worn by French, American Continental and British regulars during the eighteenth century, and has already established a headquarters beneath the catacombs of Edinburgh, Scotland.

What is now needed are men and women, servicemen and civilians, of stout constitution and a very open mind - these...parasites...will most certainly not be the only thing that the Nazis have been working on, or that they have discovered so far, and to face the unknown without an open mind is something that is both short-sighted and reckless. To this end the R.W.B have sent out messages, by written message through a series of couriers, to wherever suitable candidates may be found!

Whether in a warzone across the sea, in their home in America, in a mountain fastness in Russia, or even in a ghetto in the heart of Germany itself. Instructions contained within these messages will get the candidates to Edinburgh and a hotel called 'The Bonnie Prince', there they will find their own fully supplied rooms and little else until they are called upon to do their part.

Genre:

I intend to blend elements from multiple genres in the process of this RP - from the occult and fantastical or films such as Hellboy, to the more 'real' 40's elements of Saving Private Ryan, Agent Carter, and others.

Of course there are many more, I've just drawn a blank at the moment!

In brief, there is the usual Nazi-tracking capers of the Indiana Jones franchise (all three of them...), mingled with a spot of nineteen-forties Men in Black, added to a dash of dieselpunk and more darker tones of horror and possibly even some sci-fi in the mix.

The Setting:

This RP is set in the world of the nineteen-forties, midway or so through the Second World War, the Allies are gaining ground over the Axis but there is still all to 'play' for in this worldwide conflict.

The role of the participants/players in this will be a more behind-the-scenes one; covert operations behind enemy lines, blending in and out of a civilian crowd, covering up things that the rest of humanity perhaps should not know at this point in time. In this vein there will be technology involved that could not possibly exist in this period, but may well do not far in the future, where men die on the front line while it may transpire that the Atom bomb has already been invented and then passed over for something of even greater killing power...such as fuel-powered war machines?

Your characters are freshly recruited members of a covert (covert...covert...) organisation given form by the highest links of the Allied chain, known only to the top brass and those that are a part of it, to have been selected your character must be unique - that means special in some way, although not necessarily the top of their field, or indeed of any field! This is a setting in which I would like characters to evolve, to be given an interesting basic form and then carried forward to greater things. Perhaps you have a crippled veteran? Maybe he could possibly be given an artifical limb ahead of its time? Or a civilian female munitions worker with a knack for making explosives? Or a defecting German scientist intent on stopping his countrymen? A priest?

They may not know why they have been selected, at least not at first, but rest assured that I shall soon take care of that.

---

Things of Note - Please Read

- This setting is during the 1940's and WWII, an era of development and a possible bright future, a time when Glenn Miller and Big Band music was king and fashion was generally pretty dapper. You do not need to be an expert on the time period, but keeping in the character of the time is something I would like and advise, that includes the manners and speech of your characters.

- The supernatural/unknown is a big part of this RP, meaning that there are things going which, if leaked to the public, could quite literally blow peoples minds! Characters should react accordingly when confronted by this I.E. No seeing a hidden underground super-secret-base and having your character not even bat an eye.

- You do not need to be a historian to RP here, and I'll be around to assist anyone that might have any questions or problems.

- Be inventive! Your character can come from almost anywhere in the world, as long as they have a reason, and will most probably (but not categorically) possess a set of skills, a defect, or something that make them stand out from the common day men or women in some way.

- The group will travel by sea, mount or walking, so you may want to see this as a good time for character interaction and development.

- Rules wide, you should all know the drill! No godmoding, steering the RP off course and so forth. If you could post at least once a week, if not more I would also appreciate it. I also reserve the right to kill of anyone who is holding up the RP, or who disappears without trace - if you are going to be absent, or wish to leave, please just tell me in a PM or in the thread.

- Writing requirements will be 'advanced' ; I don't expect novels from anyone, and will readily allow a few mistakes here and there, but you need to be able to string a paragraph (or a number of them) together.

- Please spend time on your character sheet, as this is what I'll be referring to quite a bit, there is no need to rush it!

- Lastly, the characters have each been found - by some means which you can explain in your profile (or not) - by a rather average looking person with an easily forgettable face. This person, perhaps dressed in uniform or not, has then handed them a written telegraph containing instructions that will lead them to the RWB base in Scotland. Each one is signed by the highest ranking member of your nation (excluding Germans or occupied nations, of course) which will allow no questions to be asked by others; the exact wording of the telegraph I will also allow you to invent yourselves, though I imagine they would allow follow a similar format.

Character Sheet

Please submit your character sheets by TUESDAY, DECEMBER 22nd. Please PM the completed sheet to me first, and after I have approved it you may post it into the Character tab of this thread. Anyone who may need an extension for this, please just tell me.

Full Name: Your character's name. A pretty obvious one, so enough said.

Age & Date of Birth: Obvious.

Gender: Obvious.

Place of Birth and Residence: Where were they born, where do they live (or are based for the military folk) at this moment in time?

Religion: If they have any at all.

Appearance: A written description of your character's appearance, this includes usual attire as well as any distinguishing features such as missing limbs or scars. No pictures, please.

Personality: What kind of person is your character, what are their motivations etc, and how do they interact with others?

Skills: What skills do they possess, how did they come by them, what have they used/been using them for?

Equipment/Armament: What do they bring with them/carry on their person? Be sensible when deciding, as weight and wealth are both an issue. If they are part of the military and regularly carry weapons of some form, please include that here as well.

History: A sketch of your character's life and history up to the point of arriving in Edinburgh and the hotel there, which is where we shall begin our questing; give me three solid paragraphs, at least, please.

Miscellaneous: Anything you want to mention but haven't been able to cover yet? This can include ambitions, goals, and so forth.

If you have any questions, please feel free to ask.

Star Wars - Jedi Exile - Knights of the Last Republic

Perfect serenity and oneness with the Force was turned to fractured emotion in an instant, the instance when the life of another was plucked from the physical and entered the invisible realm of the living force; T'ish and Worror together, capable warriors as they were, could not have hoped to stop every single bolt from the heavy-duty weapons of the Clone Commandos, and each time another Jedi was struck down - Jedi that had fought their ways to this point, but would go no further in their journey, those that had tried with all their might to remain alive... - it seemed to the Kel'Dor that another piece of his own spirit was blackened by righteous anger and grief. Such feelings came to a head when the very life force of his own Padawan was snuffed out, like the separating of a child from its parent, or the genocide of an entire culture, every life was precious and he did not even feel those bolts that singed his inner robes and flesh as his attention was distracted.

Slowly he began to fade in and out of focus, the use of the Force to power his own reflexes, and so much death in such close proximity, causing great strain upon him. It did not seem that they would be getting out of this alive...and then Master Worror seemed to do, as many Jedi Masters could, the incredible; T'ish had never seen an entire group of adversaries frozen in time, their bodies still and the whole world around he and his comrades now locked in a capsule of time produced by the sheer will of the elderly but powerful Ithorian Jedi.

"T'ish, please collapse the roof of this room. I can't hold them forever."

It sounded as if the request, or very polite order, was coming from a lot further away than it actually was, sound and sight varying as he sought to do as he was asked; he knew there would be little time before the strain became too great even for Worror, and, deactivating his sabers, he sought to become more focused on the task at hand. No good could come from brooding upon his Padawan and her demise, at least not at this moment, and so, with a steely force of will, T'ish flexed his three-fingered hands and sucked in a deep breath through his mask.

There is no emotion...there is peace...

He allowed his eyes to close, certainly not the best option in their current predicament, seeing everything in the sort of 'sonar' that came to one using the Force as their source of vision. Everything seemed as it might to a bat or a dolphin, various shades of black and blue outlines, the clones as darker and more empty forms while his Jedi kin appeared as beacons of radiating light in the dark.

Allowing for another deep breath, he raised his arms high above his head and locked his mind onto the materials of the ceiling, letting his own being meld itself into the very atoms of the construct. Deep in the back of his mind he began to will it to break, to crumble, to collapse, unaware of how much of himself he was exerting or just how drained he would feel once this was all over.

With a grunt of effort, his entire body slick with sweat and shaking as one who has just sprinted a thousand miles, not only was there an almighty din as the ceiling collapsed, but - likely due to the flecks of rage he was now feeling, those that had mingled with his lighter efforts - the walls of the room seemed to implode on themselves and do more damage than any explosives. It was as if the whole room had never existed, save as a pile of cracked rubble and twisted metal. What happened to the clones was truly none of his concern, his mind on protecting those that had gone before him, and on helping Worror as best he could.

As he turned away to follow the others into the subterranean tunnels, he allowed his arms to hang limply by his side, bending down to recover his coarse outer robes and struggling even to walk. It was only when he was within the mouth of the tunnel that a hiss of air escaped from his mask, shallow breaths coming from him, and he collapsed completely on the spot.

Star Wars - Jedi Exile - Knights of the Last Republic

Still a wee bit confused, and not entirely certain I've done the correct thing, but take a read and tell me if my post makes sense.

Star Trek: To Boldly Go (Still looking for players)

I place my interest here!

Would you accept a Romulan at all?

Star Wars - Jedi Exile - Knights of the Last Republic

<Snipped quote by Jbcool>
Oi you! That's my line!

@Fat Boy Kyle

Oh yeah? Wanna fight about it!

Star Wars - Jedi Exile - Knights of the Last Republic

Apologies for the sub-standard post, but on the other hand it is a post.

Star Wars - Jedi Exile - Knights of the Last Republic

T'ish had been on edge ever since entering the warren of tunnels, although it was impossible on the outside for anyone to tell, and the implosion of the ceiling - and a cargo of four heavy-set clones along with it - had simply tipped him over the precarious edge that he had been standing upon. He had seen many of those he knew fall to these...these 'men' and their ilk, and deep inside he could feel a hot surge of anger that was most unbecoming of a Jedi. Without conscious thought he made use of this, spreading it throughout his body, his muscles relaxing but becoming even more attentive to his every thought, each nerve within him seemingly on fire.

"GO! Get out of here-" Grunted the only Master among them, a bolt whizzing past his right arm, close enough to burn the flesh. "-I'll be right behind you."

The Kel'Dor twisted his neck to see Lyla dragging Enrik along with her, both moving quickly toward the only escape route now left to them. Nodding silently to himself, he leisurely dropped his outer robes to the floor in a crumpled heap, revealing his saber and a shorter shoto with which it was paired; it might be suicidal, but he would rather die than leave the old Ithorian to his fate, who would then be left to continue the Jedi teachings? Who would the Padawans and and other survivors look to for guidance if he were to fall? No, if T'ish had to die then he would willingly do so, but he would not see Worror fall this day.

One deep breath...two deep breath...three deep breath...

All around him the world seemed to slow, the blades of his two weapons emerging from their hilts at a fraction of the speed expected of reality, bolts passing by him as he twisted and turned, some deflected back toward their attackers without much accuracy, until he stood beside Worror. Although the other could not see, he had twisted his mouth into his own species version of a smile, and with almost casual indifference to his assailants he knelt and swept his blades along the floor about them until a fully circle was formed around their feet; it was meant as a challenge to his enemies, as well as an actual instrument that would be used if needs be - the corridor, and the room into which the enemy had entered, narrowed considerably the closer it got to the bowels of Corscant, and they would need to get past he and Worror if they wished to capture the rest of his kith and kin.

"Please, Master," he managed to shout above the fizzing of contacts and the projection of blast bolts, "you must survive...I beg you to go with the young ones!"

Letting his sharpened nerves and trained sense of precognition guide him, the Knight sent bolt after bolt back at his foes, yet he could not keep it up forever...and only now, with the explosion of a thermal device further along the corridor, did he realise that Seris was missing from the group. He expected that whoever she had been fighting was at least crippled now, not many could survive the close-range blast of a detonator, but she still had to make her way back to the underground route before the four commandos firing at him realised and turned their fire between the two pairs.

"Master?"

If Worror did not wish to go, then there was no way that he could be forced, but T'ish would remain with him whatever the outcome might be.

An Amateur's Treatise on Popular Military Understanding

Oh I understand completely, but you misunderstand me; I'm not talking about insurgency, I'm simply talking of the strategies, technologies and so forth that changed with the advent of more 'organised' guerilla warfare.

For example, within British military thought during the late 18th century, there was the 'American school' of thought - the usage of light troops, using their own initiative/cover and so forth - and the 'European/Continental school', which was basically the complete opposite.

As I say, I understand, and I'll honestly look forward to anything you decide to write.

An Amateur's Treatise on Popular Military Understanding

Hi there,

Can I just start by saying that you clearly know your stuff, which is refreshing, and I am thoroughly enjoying everything you've written thus far! Excellent stuff.

I was hoping, since I am far too lazy to do it myself, that you may be able to do 'a piece' on conventional warfare versus guerilla strategies a la the Vietcong, the Maori, the North American colonists and so forth?

Not really sure that it would apply much to roleplaying, but I'd at least find your views on the subject interesting. :)

Six-Shot Story - An RP of the American Old 'Wild' West (On indefinite HIATUS)

@PhoenixWhite No worries, looking forward to anything you come up with! :)