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10 days ago
Current Gone fishing for a week, will return soon.
6 mos ago
Happy New Year!
6 mos ago
Merry Yuletide, one and all! Gods bless.
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12 mos ago
What's this then, ey?! You'd best not be a manhunter!
12 mos ago
It's almost harvesting season!
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I am Jbcool (known as McScottish on the Total War Centre); Scotsman by birth, roleplayer by my own hand, and lover of literature. I am also an amateur historian, a reciever of a Bachelors degree in Ancient and Medieval History - quite a useless degree, actually - and would like to think that I'm a fair, honest and open guy.

As far as RP'ing goes, I'm pretty open to most things really, all you need to do is ask! :)

So, if you've ever any questions for me, wish to speak about RP's involving myself or run by myself, or simply feel like a chat, don't be afraid to get in touch.

Most Recent Posts

I'm going to make this short and sweet, so much so that I'm not even going to put up any form of OOC 'front page', nor will I be asking for a detailed Character Sheet - although this is the 'Advanced' section, so I won't just be shrugging and allowing anyone in either.

Following the example set out in the Astartes short films, my own mind for quite some time (and as I've tried to do before), and most any ABD novel from the Black Library, we're going to be going with a small squad (four-to-five Marine squad) Astartes into a variety of scenarios, areas and battlefields to use the Astartes as the avenging angels and Emperor's scalpel that they are commonly meant to be - on that note, check out Brothers of the Snake if you haven't already.

The squad will be taking the form of a multi-geneseed Infiltrator squad from a yet-to-be-named Primaris Chapter, members of Bobbie G's newest Scout replacement force Vanguard Space Marines, the Primaris answer to a special operations force that is usually sent in ahead of the main force; due to this, there should be plenty of scope to flesh out the characters while carrying this on at a decent pace, using characters that can take some punishment as well as dishing it out.

If you're interested then please submit your character sheets by Private Message to me, myself and I - once accepted you can post them in the Char tab.

Name: Your character's name. Feel free to give it Legion/Chapter specific 'flavour'.

Rank: Obvious, if you'd like to pop in as a Helix Adept for the squad, please tell me.

Age: Age in real space time, not including freezing.

Gene-sire: From which Primarch does your Marine take his gene-seed (or presume they do)?

Personal Demeanour: What kind of person is your character outside of simply being living weapons, what are their motivations etc, and how do they interact with others? Also please include any hatreds, grudges, and so on.

Description: A written description of your character's appearance, feel free to include the condition of their armour and so on.

History: A sketch of your character's life and history, preferably until their selection by Cawl and subsequent 'ascension'. Give me three solid paragraphs, at least, please.

Equipment and Armament:

Mark X Phobos Power Armour
'Marksman' Pattern Bolt Carbine
Combat Knife (Optional)
Frag Grenade
Krak Grenade
Smoke Grenade

Miscellaneous: Anything you want to mention but haven't been able to cover yet.
@Plank Sinatra@Katthaj@webboysurf@The Nexerus@Heat

If any of you are interested in joining, still, then please get a Character Sheet up and post it in this OOC thread; if not, then don't.

For those who actually have posted, I'll get the battle started soon and we can get underway.
Looks like I'll be opening up the reserve list/RP when I get back, should be fun.

Any chance of a post from you, before I get into the reserve list?

Alrighty then, the first post is up!

It's pretty much just a post to introduce the characters, their thoughts and feelings, what they've been doing leading up to the battle...I don't need to tell you.

Once we've had 'a round' I'll get the actual fighting underway.

Any questions are welcome.

The raven had circled the field below the overcast layer of cloud several times already, descending lower and lower with each sphere, mass blocks of men, horses, and likely a few women shifting themselves into battle-ready formations in preparation for the inevitable clash that all knew was coming. Of course the raven was just an avian creature, intelligent yes, but unaware of what was progressing between the ant-like figures beneath it. All it knew was that, at some point, they would meet, death would follow, and there would be more than enough flesh for the buzzards and itself to gorge upon...

Meanwhile, from a more ground-based view of the proceeding events, Jago Flowers - who men openly referred to as 'the Mad Maester' even within hearing distance - wet his lips in anticipation of the carnage about to unfold in this rather arid region of the Disputed Lands; indeed, rain clouds whirled overhead, and the usually blinding Essos sun cast its rays sporadically over the lowlands, but of moisture there was no sign this day.

At his side the Reachland bastard tabbed his pouch, writing implements already arrayed about him on the dry soil of the hillock on which he sat. He was to have no part in the battle this day, save as an observer - though even at the age of seven-and-fifty he was still capable of it - for the 'commander' of the Meereenese Knots had made it clear he wished to have his victory recorded for posterity. The thin lips of Jago's gaunt face had peeled back at this, revealing a set of oddly pointed teeth, but he had bobbed and nodded in agreement with the foolish man...and now he was here, his emaciated body swaddled in his black hooded robes, his perplexingly clear eyes watching all as his steady hands made note of all-and-sundry.

After taking a brief glance into the air to see where his black-feathered companion had gotten to, he put quill to scroll and began to scribble.

The field, as it contained in the way of terrain, was almost perfect for a pitched battle. There were no woodlands to conceal ones enemy, not for miles around at least, no rivers or bridges or mountains to use as chokepoints either, only several small knolls and hummocks - such as the one upon which Jago sat - where each army had encamped, but which would make for rather useless strongpoints.

The Reachlander knew this because he was not a stranger to conflict, the mace that hanged from his rope-belt still encrusted with the dried blood of men, women and even children, things having been done during his youth that even now made the toes of other men curl to hear them.


Both armies, made up of Sellswords and not a single militiaman from the three city-states employing them standing among them, would need to challenge one another over the flat ground that made up the mid-part of the field; this ground was relatively solid, moistureless and hard-packed brown dirt, with dry grass being the only thing 'growing' there, but soon to be watered with blood.

What of the armies themselves?

On the one side were those Companies hired by the alliance of Tyrosh and Lys, a Grand Company of several smaller ones that formed to somewhere around a thousand cavalry and ten-thousand men-at-arms at least.

Therein were men from all over; Westerosi bastards, criminals and runaways of all stripes - forming a solid backbone of heavy infantry and the majority of the mounted contingent - savage clansmen from beyond the wall and the mountain clans come together as lighter but more fierce combatants, volunteers from the Free Cities and even a handful of slaves forced into a skirmish they had no place waging.

Their adversaries were not much different it had to be said, the Knots a majority Westerosi formation of some three-hundred heavy cavalry and five-hundred infantry including two-hundred archers - most hardened individuals but not yet a coherent fighting force - given the centre of the line to protect.

On their flanks were such esteemed bands as the black-clad pike-wielding Sons of the Goat out of Qohor, or the infamous Blade-Dancers of Leng far to the east known for using their twin blades to deadly effect, a body of some two-thousand Dothraki, known simply as The Khal's Men, being their primary reserve of horsemen.

Altogether, Jago guessed at his best count, some thousand cavalry and ten-thousand infantry stood against near three-thousand horse of varying types and four-to-five-thousand infantry; it truly was a test of a larger force fighting one with more experience, the Tyroshi magisters clearly thinking that one would outdo the other.

Peering on, sat as he was well away from harm, the Bastard of Old Oak could only imagine and empathise with those now striding reluctantly or otherwise to fight for their pay.

Of the Knots he wrote in particular, the way that their infantry formed in front of the archers (a notable addition to their ranks, being longbowmen all), how their cavalry - heavily armoured knights from Westeros to a man - assembled into the famous lance, and how Alon Peckledon, the man responsible for their presence here today, had surrounded himself with the hundred or so men he had named his 'Guard of Valour'.

Well, what did one expect from a former brothel owner anyway?

So the stage was set, sunlight briefly bursting through the clouds, and the buzzards prepared for a feast.
I'll get a post up tomorrow, just looking over all the posts made so far - good work on that by-the-by, loving the posts.

Many thanks for your sheets, you're accepted, and feel free to put them in the Character tab!


Looking forward to recieving your sheets, hopefully in the next day or so.

@Plank Sinatra@Katthaj@webboysurf@The Nexerus@Heat

I'll be putting you all on a 'reserve list', so if anyone does drop out then you'll be the first ones I talk to; feel free to PM me a Character Sheet, it'll make it easier if/when the time comes.

Thank you everyone for your interest, didn't expect this much to be honest, I'll get working on the opening post and it should be up soonish.

Any questions etc, get in touch.

Not really one for humour, Helmut nevertheless allowed himself a grim smile at the situation. What manner of fate had bought these three here at this time, had it been Sigmar in his benevolence? Was it one of the other Gods? Who knew.

After waiting patiently for the temporarily ruffled newcomers to settle down a little, he listened to their questions and bade Henrik pull up another chair and take a seat while he answered their questions.

"I am Helmut Van Graff, Witch Hunter and keeper of the Emperor's law and justice." One look at Henrik told him that, in spite of looking older than he was, the blue-eyed arrival was more than he seemed, "will you not join us?"

One gloved hand rose up to scratch his cheek as he looked to Hans, seeing the expression that had overtaken the boys face, "this is the tavern, though I feel you may be in the wrong place. Then again...." his free hand reached into a pocket, plucking something from it and presenting his palm to the seventeen year old "...perhaps this may interest you?"

There, glinting in the dim light of the tavern and standing out against the dark leather glove, was a golden crown - also known as Karls, Crowns or Gelt - the face of Karl Franz on one side and a Reaper holding an hour-glass on the other.

"This would buy you more than a room for a night, and there is plenty of it."
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