Jb

Star Trek: To Boldy Go

@Blue Demon Aye, apologies but I think I shall sit it out also. :( I'll keep an eye on it, and may Romulus smile upon you.

A Tolkien based RP: Out of the Past

@JbcoolI'll be getting her there with my next post, don't worry. I would've done it sooner, but you'd said we could have our characters do whatever as long as it's within Aldburg.

@Sigurd

Yes, yes I did, and you don't need to get her there, you can do what you like...so feel free to do what you like; character development is encouraged, in fact.

Take your time.

Star Trek: To Boldy Go

@Blue Demon Any chance my favourite Romulan can get back in on this at all?!

Herak S'Prorta

Name: Herak S'Prorta

Age: 34

Rank/Position: Subcommander acting as an Ambassador to the U.S.S Orion and the Federation.

Race: Romulan

Appearance: Herak is a pretty standard Romulan male, standing at an average height of 6' 2", his flesh of a slightly green colouring, his jet-black hair cut into the usual Romulan 'bowl cut' style, and the 'V' brow-ridge present and accounted for upon his forehead.

One thing that others may notice is, oddly, that he is actually quite handsome from a certain point of view; he possesses the Patrician features of nobility - high cheekbones, a slightly hooked nose and a finely sculpted bone structure - as well as clean-limbed body with wiry muscles from decades of hard training.

In fact, everything about the way he looks could be considered hard and generally solid in a look that only a seasoned combat soldier - or rough-and-tumble fighter - can achieve.

His otherwise unmarked skin is defaced in certain places upon his torso by what look to be scarring caused by bladed weapons, a similar healing of the skin on his face (which has left a puckered scar reaching his jawline) causing the right side of his mouth to upturn, making it seem as if he is constantly sneering, smirking or generally sharing a private joke with himself.

Personality: Private, yet nowhere near as paranoid or insular as other Romulans - he has seen things during his years of military service, both on land and among the stars, giving a dimension of curiosity and wanderlust to him that most of his race severely lack. This has affected him in other ways, primarily in that he adheres strictly to rules aboard ship, is very black and white in his views, and once heated in extremely hard to subdue in any situation. Needless to say, most of his personality stems back to his upbringing, and his time serving the Star Empire.

History: The life of young Herak is a singularly uninteresting one; born into the little-known House-clan of Prorta, he came from a line of warriors and soldiers that could be traced back to the very founding of Romulus itself. They had never had a representative in the Senate, never gained command over the armies or fleets of the Empire, but those of the Prorta had never shirked their duty and had ever done all they could to further the aims of their homeland.

From the earliest suitable age he was exposed to military matters, those of open face-to-face or ship-to-ship combat, and has always held a disdain for the Tal'Shiar and their underhanded methods of warfare. As he grew older he endured tutelage from three generations of his male line, each a warrior and each with their own knowledge to impart to him, a training that would see him beaten time and again in body and mind but returning each time a little stronger than the last.

Eventually, he made his way to the Romulan Imperial War College, showing an aptitude for studying and therefore learning how best to annihilate an enemy...something well noted by his professors and training instructors, something that would have a bearing on his overall future; upon graduation he was offered the rank of Centurion and took it gladly, only too happy to try and make his family proud of him!

What he experienced for the next sixteen years of his life would leave a lasting impact upon hi,, both mentally and with quite obvious scars which he carries to this day. Conflicts against the Klingons, Dominion and the Breen seeing to it that he gathered healthy amounts of both hatred and respect for his honoured adversaries, but also making certain that he took to studying his potential enemies - such as the Federation, Bajorns and Cardassians - in much more thorough detail.

By the time an assignment was handed to him, his peers apparently far too paranoid and undiplomatic for such a task (his wounds by a bladed weapon also rendering him temporarily less effective as a fighter...), he had become a respected - if not well liked - Subcommander within the Romulan hierarchy, now being transferred to an ambassadorial role aboard a Federation vessel. A vessel carrying none other than Ambassador Spock, the envoy between Vulcan and the grassroots movement on Romulus for reunification of the species, something that Herak supported in secret but would never dream of speaking about in public.

Skills: He contributes a number of skills, but highest on the list would have to be his knowledge of all things Romulan. Especially helpful during these trying times against the Dominion, when all need to unite. Perhaps a little lower down, but no less helpful, is his extensive and personally gained knowledge of combat in a plethora of settings, situations and so forth. If a position became available where these skills may be needed, he might jump at the chance.

Other: Anything else I feel can be figured out IC.

Sample Post:

Subcommander Herak paced back and forth within the confines of his new 'accommodation' aboard the Orion, hands fixed firmly behind his back, his brow furrowed and his lips pursed tightly together; all-in-all it was the mood of someone not pleased to have been taken from what he thought of as 'proper' duties, and placed instead as some go-between for his people. Getting cut with a Klingon weapon was nothing, certainly no reason to have attached him to this primitive vessel, far away from his beloved Star Empire, his family, and most especially any sense of excitement or thrill of battle.

These surroundings, for one, were wholly inadequate!

The artistic value of the room was none, the walls a horrid grey colour, not a lick of paint or a picture visible anywhere, and, worst of all, he was forced to endure the constant whirring murmur of the engines - engines that, he swore on his father's life, must have been placed so close to this habitation deck just to annoy the mostly non-human occupants.

Then there was the Captain of the ship...the half-breed who claimed some sort of Romulan ancestry. Such a remark was to be greeted at all turns with much laughter, at least in private, for he had seen Tal'Shiar documents pertaining to each and every senior member of this crew, and he was not impressed. Not impressed at all.

The so-called Captain certainly bore the name of a notable family from ch'Rihan, it could only be a matter of waiting in these turbulent times to see if she had what it took to bear it.

A Tolkien based RP: Out of the Past

Man can't earn his salt without someone having a go!

Just content yourself with knowing that, as I have, I will post; I intend to see this RP carry on until a sufficient ending...and I bloody love Tolkien.

Therefore as long as I have interested writers, you shall all have an interested GM, for what it's worth - hopefully it won't be that long between posts though.

So, everýone except Éolan is now either in or soon-to-be in the presence of Eorl, feel free to prepare/ask questions and the like before she gets there.

Thanks all, it seems I've been lucky enough to find an awesome 'crew' to participate with. :)

A Tolkien based RP: Out of the Past

Season: Autumn, Time of Day:: Late Afternoon, Weather: Stormy.

Storms of terrifying ferocity had been slowly gathering force, before lashing the outer folds of the embryonic kingdom with gales, rains and even floods that old and wise folk in the villages and hamlets claimed to be 'unnatural'. It was one such storm that reached the Rohirric capital at the very same time as the Golden Serpent (@BCTheEntity) and his retinue of guards requested entry into the presence of their war-leader and monarch, sheets of ice-cold water slanting downward and hammering at those that did not swiftly seek shelter. Those patrolling the walls retreated to the warmth and dryness of their gatehouses and towers, while the stout doors of the great hall were swung open to allow the entry of a slightly bedraggled yet resplendent serpent into the very same room as the King - numerous weapons capable of firing bolts with great rapidity trained on him at all times, of course.

Inside the great hall the gloom that had suddenly enshrouded Aldburg was somewhat held at bay by the furnace-like hearth-pit burning away merrily, placed near the centre of the hall and burning away merrily, tapestries and trophies of war lining the hall beyond the perimeter created by the wooden arches that held up the thatched roof and partitioned the building from one end to another. As Saptheth was guided forward, each step taking him closer to a humble wooden chair upon which a man of great stature sat, he may even pick out arms and armour of his own defeated people - yet these were not grisly relics of war, but trophies taken from valiant enemies on the field and displayed as such - everything from the weaving of the tapestries to the wood-carving on the arches and the plaques upon the walls showed a culture higher than most would give the Northmen credit for.

"My King," proclaimed the foremost of the guards, foremost in both prestige and position among them, "we have bought to you the desired prisoner. Some call him the Golden Serpent, some simply call him 'scum', he has been bought here at your behest. What is to become of him?"

All this was said in the Rohirric tongue, coarse and even abrasive to some, but fluid and straightforward as well; much like the tongue of the Dwarves in those respects, Eorl the Young gazing upon the man from beyond the sea of Rhun with great fascination. Something in the way his lips twitched at the corners, his sparkling blue eyes studying the garb and even the uncovered flesh of the man before him, showed that Saptheth was there for more than just something to gawk at.

"Tell me, Easterling," spoke the King from his throne - dressed from head to toe in a regal tunic of greens, embroided as it was with golden threads, a cloak of wolf fur wrapped about his shoulders - his voice soft and mellow but edged with violence, "why do you believe you are here? I hope you have no been mistreated by the guards or my Gondorian allies?" This he asked in Westron, a tongue that neither he nor his prisoner were fluent in, but remained the most common tongue in Western Middle-Earth.

---

There were few within the Eightfold Foal, the largest and most populous tavern in all of Aldburg, that would have noticed the entry of a single newcomer. Indeed, it took a moment or three for Eōrwīga Æsctīr, known as Felafrēcne to some and personal blacksmith to the king himself, to even register in his bleary-eyed state that the figure who strode in - the sound of the beginnings of a storm following her as the door opened and shut - was not an effeminate man, but a woman in close-fitting armour! How did he know this? Well, you did not become the King's own smith and not indulge yourself once in a while...he had known many women, and being able to spot on at a distance was something he prized himself on.

After using a handful of his own straw-blonde mane to wipe away the froth of his ale from his mouth, he first followed the path of the man-woman with his eyes - taking note of the two loud-mouthed crooks with a casual glance - before following her with his limping and stattico gait over to where she sat. Just in time to find her indulged in some light reading, it seemed.

"My apologies..." he thought for a moment, "eeer, madam, may I sit here?"

Without waiting for an answer he dragged a seat from another table and placed it opposite Éolan (@Sigurd), a disarming smile playing across his features as his eyes bored into her own, "may I ask what you are reading?"

---

Was it fate that the Knight and the Criminal should meet at the same time? Was it some trick of the Valar, even of Manwe...or even Illuvatar and his divine arrangement in the heavens?

No mortal could ever say, but it was not long after Saptheth had entered the hall that the Swan Knight arrived at the gates of the keep - his distinctive dress gaining him some quite immediate respect from the men atop the battlements - rain beginning to pour from the heavens even as the incarcerated fraud (who had been thrown into the gaol the very day before) was shouted at in broken Westron to dress and follow a group of armed men back to the courtyard or the keep where Baranor had been allowed to enter and asked to dismount for his own good.

"Both of you," grunted Leofric, pointing at Baranor (@DrunkasaurusRex) and snarling at Cole (@Vor) as he was half-dragged to stand beside the far nobler specimen of Man, "follow me."

It would not take the pair long to reach the great hall, and to enter it, just long enough for the Serpent to answer the King before their arrival.

A Tolkien based RP: Out of the Past

Right, work has called me in to cover a night-shift, so my post will be tomorrow; to answer the question, @Sigurd, it'll be one post but each of you shall be addressed in turn.

I apologise profusely for the slow pace thus far, and thank you all again for sticking with me, I'll get the next post up tomorow and we can carry on.

Again, thank you.

A Tolkien based RP: Out of the Past

Righto, promise I'll get a post up when I get back from work tomorrow.

All great posts. :)

A Tolkien based RP: Out of the Past

@DrunkasaurusRex@BCTheEntity@Sigurd

Excellent posts so far, then again I expect nothing less!

I'll wait for @Vor and then get things moving onward and upward.

A Tolkien based RP: Out of the Past

@Sigurd@BCTheEntity@DrunkasaurusRex@Vor@POOHEAD189

For a wee bit of visual reference, Aldburg would look somewhat like this, thought not exactly. Probably a bit smaller, no water (unless you count the grass sea and smaller rivers), and the like...use your imagination.

A Tolkien based RP: Out of the Past

Would it just be a single letter telling the guards to bring the Golden Serpent to Rohan with little to no detail [...]

@BCTheEntity

Yes, that's about the right of it right there.

The letter, although not from him directly, would probably be marked with the seal/crest/insignia of King Eorl himself. Few would argue against this...although some might think he'd gone mental.