Kingfisher

Borderlands (1x1x1) - Applications in INT-CHK thread

I'm still up for this. Just lemmie know when the ball is rolling.

Deleted

@Kingfisher Do the Boreans know you're about to attack them?

Also if anyone wants to hire the Crimson Company, they are in between contracts...

@VoiD

No body expects the Spanish inquisition Over-Tyrant!

My barbarians have been pretty stealthily, but I suppose scouts could have caught wind of them. I'll allow our gracious GM to decide.

Deleted

The warm glow of the warband’s flickering campfires cast soft orange flashes onto the unyielding whiteness of the fallen snow, as the marauders of Mourslev sat restlessly between the rocky slopes of the valley, sharpening their swords and biding their time.

Guttural screams and sweet moans drifted in from behind the animal hide flaps of the horde’s tents of excess, locking a world of pleasure and pain away from the biting cold of the Lumerian wastes. The howling winds ripped and tore at the very flesh of the raiders, as it blasted the stone walls of the valley, and sent their wolfskin cloaks billowing about them in a frigid crack of elemental fury.

“The Gods are angry.” Grumbled Drulfar Icecrow, as he pulled his black cloak tightly over his withered form.

“And which gods would those be?” Shruboar Sharptooth chuckled over at the older man, his ox-like form resting against the fallen carcass of a long dead tree, the hilt of his long sword clutched in one gnarled hand.

“The only true Gods,” Drulfar snarled “The spirits of old; the ancient lords of Lumeria!”

“Carefull, old man,” Shruboar’s eyes narrowed into slits, as his mask of arrogance melted away “Your gods are dead. There is only Mortaroth, now.”

Drulfar spat into the fire, sending a sharp hiss through the crackling red flames “Forsake the Gods of our ancestors if you will, Sharptooth,” he grimaced “but I am not so easily broken.”

“Risk your neck, then, Icecrow,” Shruboar let out a raspy sigh “but I intend to live long enough to see the spoils of Borea, and quench my thirsts on the flesh of southern girls.”

The raiders from Mourslev had set off some weeks ago, and were marching down through the inhospitable plains of Lumeria, with their eyes set firmly on the southern kingdoms. The sheer mass of the horde, and the number of clans fighting under their queen’s banner, was staggering to the primitive northerners, whose lust for conquest knew no bounds.

Khalaevna sat away from the rest of the bloodthirsty marauders, beneath the wooden beams and colourful swathes of her own, grand tent.

“Thank you for coming to see me, Harlwarn.” She greeted the chieftain plainly, with a slight inclination of her head, whilst her pages sat huddled in one corner, cleaning the glistening steel blade of Zalewylch with wet cloth.

“Didn’t ‘ave much choice, did I?” the large man snarled, as he slipped beneath the tents flaps.

“You could’ve tried to fight,” she reasoned “then my men would’ve killed you, and I would’ve been spared the tedium of your presence.”

“Is that how the Trade Queen treats her loyal subjects?” Harlwarn scowled.

“Only the ones who lay with goats.” She smirked to herself, a slim smile spreading across her features.

Khalaevna leaned back on her vast bed, all bound up in her sleeping furs, a trail of chocolate brown hair cast over one shoulder. Her enormous form was kept decent by the sewn together pelts of many kills, whilst her gigantic stomach spilled out into her lap.

“What do you want, wench?” Harlwarn’s right hand slipped down to his leather belt, brushing lightly against the hilt of his sheathed blade.

Harlwarn was far too stupid and arrogant to swallow his pride, and would brazenly challenge the Over-Tyrant in front of her people. His plain incompetence made him easy to out-wit, which served to solidify her soldier’s faith in her, but she couldn’t allow him to keep questioning her publicly; which was why he needed to die.

“I have less than little love for you, Harlwarn.” She began. Though she needed to win him over for the ploy ahead, suddenly showing him warmth was sure to arouse suspicion. “But I have need of you and your Frost treaders.” Harlwarn believed himself the greatest warrior to ever walk Lumeria, and his tribesmen to be the greatest scouts. She would pander to those beliefs, thus pathing the way for his own destruction.

“And what would you have us do?” he asked with narrowed eyes.

“The mountain passes ahead are treacherous at best, and there’s no telling what terrors might be lurking in them.” She lied. She’d had her scouts clear them out days ago.

Harlwarn laughed. “Is the fat woman scared of a few mountain wolves?”

“I need you and your tribesmen to make sure that the way ahead is safe for the rest of us,” She said calmly, ignoring him “If you do this for me, you have my word that I’ll reconsider your pledge to marry Yaelwanda Deathkissed.”

“Very well, wench,” Harlwarn grinned, showing off rows of rotten teeth “I’ll do your soldier’s work for you. Then the Deathkissed bitch is mine.”

He turned on his boot-clad heel, and stormed out of the tent. He would find nothing in the valley ahead, save for the sharpened daggers of his tribesmen, as they pierced his heart and sent him tumbling down into mists below.

Deleted

I've got a pretty chocablock day today, but I'll be chipping away at my post inbetween lessons.

Fallout: The Outer Banks (Always Open)

The Highwayman

Name: The Highwayman

True Identity

Hayley Butler

Appearance:

Beneath the suit

Age: ??

True Age

19

Personality: A cold and calculating figure, garbed in a suit of lightweight power armor, less-than-little is known about the mysterious Highwayman. Even it’s gender is an enigma. From what can be discerned from its documented interactions throughout the Outer Banks, the Highwayman is a merciless killer, without morals or reservations. No job is beneath the steely figure, as long as the pay is good enough. Given the borderline wordlessness of the Highwayman, it's almost impossible to figure out the details of this individual’s personality.

Faction: Self-Aligned.


Equipment: Silver Wraith Power Armor. Scoped 5.56mm Light Machine Gun. Shocksword.

Skills:

Known Skills

Hayley received her combat training from the advanced simulations inside the Bleeding Sky Bunker, and has developed a series of cutting edge fighting techniques because of this. She’s also a keen survivalist, and has a beautiful signing voice

History: The Highwayman is a legendary bandit, feared by raiders and settlers alike. It kills indiscriminately, and preys upon anyone unlucky enough to fall in its path. The Highwayman emerged from the wastes during a time no one can seem to agree on, and has terrorized the Outer-Banks ever since.

True History

Hayley Butler was born in the remote town of Blackgrain, on the very edge of the Outer-Banks. She grew up a good and kind person, but Blackgrain left a stain on her soul, as it did on all its inhabitants. The village was a nest of vice and sin, ridden with crime and debauchery, and nestled in a wasteland without rules.

When she was little, Hayley had wanted to be a singer. When she turned fifteen, she became a prostitute.

Working out of a dingy jazz club called the broken bombshell, Hayley’s world became a small corner in a darkened room, full of chems and strange men. Whilst her life was far from pleasant, there was an element of safety within the brick walls of the bombshell, and food was far more readily available than anywhere else in the wasteland.

When the owner found out about Hayley’s gorgeous singing voice, he bumped her up to the star attraction; working alongside pianists and automated jukeboxes to keep the customers placid and content. Hayley adored the minor celebrity status that she enjoyed working as a singer, until the day the Sunken Covenant swept through Blackgrain.

Barely managing to escape with her life, Hayley went from star singer to sole survivor in a matter of minutes. She wandered the Outer-Banks, reduced to an animalistic existence, until the day she stumbled upon an old Pre-War Bunker, buried beneath waste and rubble.

The Bleeding sky Bunker was a secret Vault Tech facility, created as part of an Old World training programme for the Special Forces stationed in the Southeast Commonwealth. It contained training simulations, laser guns, fresh supplies, and a state-of-the-art set of set of Power Armor, dubbed “Silver Wraith”.

Utilizing the equipment inside the bunker, Hayley developed herself into an adept fighter; capable of carving out a life for herself in the Outer-Banks.

Hayley made her way to the settlement of Broken Banks, where she traded her finely honed skills for water, and safe lodgings. She established herself as a gun-for-hire, and built herself a new life amongst the Water Merchants.

Then raiders came to Broken Banks.

The coastal settlement withstood the attack, but it was then that Hayley realized nothing would change until someone cut off the serpent’s head.

Setting off into the wastes, Hayley worked under the moniker “The Highwayman”, ambushing bandit supply lines, and attacking raider patrols throughout the Outer-Banks. Surrounding herself in horror stories and superstitions, Hayley has become one of the few entities feared by the raiders of the wasteland.

Amongst the Lonesome- A return to Santa Somabra [Fantasy Noir]

<Snipped quote by Atrophy>

No, no, zombie apocalypse/vampire romance set in Middle Earth.

@Flagg

Good to see lord of the rotten minge getting some more attention.

Amongst the Lonesome- A return to Santa Somabra [Fantasy Noir]

“Mary..” Nyxvira called over her shoulder at the Ogre, as she gazed down at the furious explosion of festivities from her golden throne “Do you prefer red or black leather?”

“More of a latex man, myself,” Marius grumbled “Why do you ask, Miss?”

“I’m thinking of getting some new furniture.” She said, simply, her eyes fixed on a scantily clad acrobat who was gracefully swinging across the arena on some trapeze “Wasn’t sure if I should go for red or black leather chairs.”

“Now, I’m no decorator, Miss Bloodbloom,” Marius grunted, adjusting his tie “But I’d have to suggest the black.”

Her curiosity was piqued

“Why?”

“The way I sees it,” he rumbled in his deep voice “Black creates an atmosphere of class and luxury, but also ‘olds suggestions of darkness and death; perfect for subtle intimidation, like.”

“I didn’t realize you had such an analytical mind.” Nyxvira laughed, a slither of a smirk slipping across her full lips.

“I read a book by this Doctah Simondis bloke,” He explained “called ‘The art of the negligible’; talks about subtle, mental manipulation.”

“Fascinating.” Nyxvira giggled playfully, sending ripples through her sprawling belly “I would never have pegged you as the intellectual type.”

“Folks dun think ogres can be smart, Miss Bloodbloom,” Marius gave a rolling shrug of his broad shoulders “appearances can be deceivin’, like. People wouldn’t think that an ogre can be smart, or a Goblin can be honest, or a junkie could be caring, or a monstah’ could be hidin’ inside a little pale man’s ‘ead. But just cause someone dun look dangerous, dun mean they aren’t dangerous, Miss Bloodbloom.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Mary.” said the obese Faerie, who also happened to be the most powerful person in Santa Somabra, with a wicked grin.

Then Grezbill came wandering up the steps.

“Ehrmmm...Madam?” He squawked, from somewhere behind her throne.

Nyxie’s eyes narrowed into slits. She hadn't sent for Grezbill, and any information he could’ve had for her would have reached her through other channels long before he did, which meant he was here out of his own tuition. Interesting. The Goblin had never come to her without bringing matters of interest to her attention before.

“What is it, Grezbill?” She asked dryly, an irritated groan ebbing at her voice.

“The weaponsmith that Miss Vigilance was sent to watch over is on the premises. He’d like an audience.”

Nyxie frowned. “Grezbill, come here.”

The goblin padded slowly towards her throne, with Marius closing in behind him.

Once he was close enough, Nyxvira’s fat hand shot forwards, closing in around the goblin’s windpipe.

“Listen here, you little shit stain,” she hissed “you -DO NOT- bring curiosities to my -VERY IMPORTANT- gatherings, do you understand?”

Grezbill gasped and wheezed, as the Faerie’s grip tightened around his neck.

“This event has been -MONTHS- in preparation, and I don’t need you fucking it up by dragging in sewer trash. You are -VERY- lucky that the current situation prevents me from disciplining you without threatening the jovial atmosphere.”

She released her hold, letting the scrawny green creature tumble to his knees, coughing and spluttering as he gulped down huge mouthfuls of air.

“Show the weaponsmith in, then show yourself out.” She commanded the goblin, shooting him one last withering glance.

“And pick me up some black leather chairs for the penthouse!” She shouted back over her shoulder, as he scurried away.

Fallout: The Outer Banks (Always Open)

Should we move our character sheets over to the CS tab, O GM?

Fallout: The Outer Banks (Always Open)

So, I found out that there is a cannon settlement in North Carolina called "Broken Banks" which I thought might be fun to mention in my CS.

Should have my sheet up by the end of the day.

-----EDIT------

Here it is!

The Highwayman

Name: The Highwayman

True Identity

Hayley Butler

Appearance:

Beneath the suit

Age: ??

True Age

19

Personality: A cold and calculating figure, garbed in a suit of lightweight power armor, less-than-little is known about the mysterious Highwayman. Even it’s gender is an enigma. From what can be discerned from its documented interactions throughout the Outer Banks, the Highwayman is a merciless killer, without morals or reservations. No job is beneath the steely figure, as long as the pay is good enough. Given the borderline wordlessness of the Highwayman, it's almost impossible to figure out the details of this individual’s personality.

Faction: Self-Aligned.

Equipment: Silver Wraith Power Armor. Scoped 5.56mm Light Machine Gun. Shocksword.

Skills:

Known Skills

Hayley received her combat training from the advanced simulations inside the Bleeding Sky Bunker, and has developed a series of cutting edge fighting techniques because of this. She’s also a keen survivalist, and has a beautiful signing voice

History: The Highwayman is a legendary bandit, feared by raiders and settlers alike. It kills indiscriminately, and preys upon anyone unlucky enough to fall in its path. The Highwayman emerged from the wastes during a time no one can seem to agree on, and has terrorized the Outer-Banks ever since.

True History

Hayley Butler was born in the remote town of Blackgrain, on the very edge of the Outer-Banks. She grew up a good and kind person, but Blackgrain left a stain on her soul, as it did on all its inhabitants. The village was a nest of vice and sin, ridden with crime and debauchery, and nestled in a wasteland without rules.

When she was little, Hayley had wanted to be a singer. When she turned fifteen, she became a prostitute.

Working out of a dingy jazz club called the broken bombshell, Hayley’s world became a small corner in a darkened room, full of chems and strange men. Whilst her life was far from pleasant, there was an element of safety within the brick walls of the bombshell, and food was far more readily available than anywhere else in the wasteland.

When the owner found out about Hayley’s gorgeous singing voice, he bumped her up to the star attraction; working alongside pianists and automated jukeboxes to keep the customers placid and content. Hayley adored the minor celebrity status that she enjoyed working as a singer, until the day the Sunken Covenant swept through Blackgrain.

Barely managing to escape with her life, Hayley went from star singer to sole survivor in a matter of minutes. She wandered the Outer-Banks, reduced to an animalistic existence, until the day she stumbled upon an old Pre-War Bunker, buried beneath waste and rubble.

The Bleeding sky Bunker was a secret Vault Tech facility, created as part of an Old World training programme for the Special Forces stationed in the Southeast Commonwealth. It contained training simulations, laser guns, fresh supplies, and a state-of-the-art set of set of Power Armor, dubbed “Silver Wraith”.

Utilizing the equipment inside the bunker, Hayley developed herself into an adept fighter; capable of carving out a life for herself in the Outer-Banks.

Hayley made her way to the settlement of Broken Banks, where she traded her finely honed skills for water, and safe lodgings. She established herself as a gun-for-hire, and built herself a new life amongst the Water Merchants.

Then raiders came to Broken Banks.

The coastal settlement withstood the attack, but it was then that Hayley realized nothing would change until someone cut off the serpent’s head.

Setting off into the wastes, Hayley worked under the moniker “The Highwayman”, ambushing bandit supply lines, and attacking raider patrols throughout the Outer-Banks. Surrounding herself in horror stories and superstitions, Hayley has become one of the few entities feared by the raiders of the wasteland.

Star Wars: Coruscant Underworld [Always accepting!]

I'm really sorry folks, but I think I'm gonna have to drop out of this RP due to time constraints.

Hope y'all have fun!