Little Bill

Hello.

Welcome!

Walkers of Eden

I feel less bad bumping this now that it's on page three.

Walkers of Eden

Will hopefully have some stuff up by tonight/early tomorrow. In the mean time, if anyone wants to run character concepts by me, now is a good time.

From Sleep Awake

Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you have revived a long-dead thread. If I bring it back in the future I'll let you know though!

Walkers of Eden

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Comedy ♦ Sandbox ♦ Post-Post-Apocalypse

---

It all began with a big boom, or at least, this is what the leading scientesters of Eden believe. Not just any big boom, but The Big Boom. The Big Boom that created the world, or perhaps washed away the old one, scattering the elves, orcs, and beastfolk all throughout Eden.

Some say The Big Boom created magic, others say it was created at the hands of elves, while others still proclaim it had been there all along. The Big Boom created all things known; The Goodlands and The Badlands, Honeymilk and Rotmud, and the cold spark of life in everything from men to machines. The Big Boom has incited curiosity across Eden for thousands of years, spurning peoples across the world to debate what created it.

Despite the lack of clear evidence on the subject, this hot-button topic has created three distinct beliefs across Eden; The first is that The Big Boom, and all other unexplained mysteries of Eden, were created by the Old One. The second is that there is no Old One, and that The Big Boom's inception cannot be explained by modern science. The third, mostly proposed by the Brainleech Hivemind, is that the answer can be easily explained by painlessly applying an infant Brainleech to the nape of the neck or inner ear. Whatever the answer may be, one thing is certain. Death.

Oh, and taxes. I always forget the other half. Didn't mean to spook ya.

---

So, current day Earth. North Korea or Russia or America or whoever drops the bomb, the one everyone got worked up about in the 50's and then again in the 80's. The world is enveloped in nuclear winter for a hundred hundred years, and the surface world becomes a caustic, rusted land of barbarism and depravity. Sound fun? Well fuck you, that's not the roleplay. The surface was a post-apocalypse landscape for about five years, and those five years would have made a decent RP, until almost everyone died from radioactive cancer. Tough break. Fast forward a few million years, and humanity's descendants have eked out existence in the irradiated Badlands as mutated orcs, ghouls, and beastfolk, and in the Goodlands as elves, faeries, and more benevolent beastfolk. Some wizards shoot magic, some shoot bullets. Though the latter group is just bearded men with rifles, they get to call themselves wizards all the same because of their use of mysterious ancient technology.

In other words, I'm interested in running a Sandbox RP in a world halfway between Ralph Bakshi's Wizards and Ooo from Adventure Time -- Violent and engaging, while still retaining light-hearted, eccentric elements. Ghettos are lined with men combing the dirt for Drugslugs. Recurring villains never manage to kill the hero while mowing down puppies in their spare time. Our protagonists risk life and limb for petty gain. People keep stealing crystals that give you a deep voice and turn you into a giant snake. Think He-Man, Flash Gordon, Conan the Barbarian, and Superjail and then think of the caricatural worlds they inhabit blended into one surreal landscape that would be unreadably violent and absurd were it not for the fact it's coated in a veneer of candy-colored whimsicality. If anyone's interested or has questions, comments, or concerns, let me know below!

Walkers of Eden

---

---

It all began with a big boom. At least, this is what the leading scientesters of the world believe. Not just any big boom, but The Big Boom. The Big Boom that created the world, or perhaps washed away the old one, scattering the men, elves, and orcs all throughout Eden like thousands of fiery embers. Some say The Big Boom was the birth of magic. Others say it was created at the hands of elves. Others still proclaim it had been there all along. The Big Boom created all things known; The Goodlands and The Badlands, Honeymilk and Rotmud, and the cold spark of life in everything from men to machines. The Big Boom has incited curiosity across Eden for thousands of years, spurning peoples across the world to debate what created it.

Despite the lack of clear evidence on the subject, this hot-button topic has created three distinct beliefs across Eden; The first is that The Big Boom, and all other unexplained mysteries of Eden, were created by the Old One. The second is that there is no Old One, and that The Big Boom's inception cannot be explained by modern science. The third, mostly proposed by the Plant Kingdom, is that the Big Boom was a biological reset created by Mother Gaia to rid the world of polluting pinkskins. Whatever the answer may be, one thing is certain. Death.

Oh, and taxes. I always forget the other half. Didn't mean to spook ya.

---

So, current day Earth. North Korea or Russia or America or whoever drops the bomb, the one everyone got worked up about in the 50's and then again in the 80's. The world is enveloped in nuclear winter for a hundred hundred years, and the surface world becomes a caustic, rusted land of barbarism and depravity. Sound fun? Well fuck you, that's not the roleplay. The surface was a post-apocalypse landscape for about five years, and those five years would have made a decent RP, until almost everyone died from radioactive cancer. Tough break. Fast forward a few million years, and Earth's descendants have eked out existence in the irradiated Badlands as mutated housecats, irradiated plantfolk, and cannibalistic molemen. In the Goodlands, humanity lives on in the form of elves, faeries, and more benevolent beastfolk. Men still walk the land, but men completely untouched by radiation are little more than folk tales.

Children of the Greatfather

Realm Information

As long as they have existed, the Seolhi have been on the outskirts of Magnar. The Seolhi isles run along Magnar's Western shores, making up an archipelago whose craggy mountains breaks apart sea storms, sparing their Eastern neighbors the damp winds the Seolhi isles are known for. Their harsh, stormy homelands are not by chance or choice; In the earliest years, the Greatfather granted his son Seolh domain of a small, barren formation of islands as punishment for blinding his brother Eshkag in an unarmed duel of strength. Believed to be born from the line of the wickedest of the Greatfather's sons, Seolhi culture has been inherently hard-hearted since its inception -- Children's tales from the isles tend to incorporate grim, straightforward lessons, funerals involve little more than rifling through the pockets and disposing of a corpse, and the societal expectation of the elderly and enfeebled to unburden their families through suicide is so strong that there is a specific Seolhi holiday for it, known as "Raft's Day."

Since Seolh was cast out to the Western isles, the reputation of the area has managed to improve very little, as it has bred a people known for little more than their clannish, territorial nature and their use of ships as year-round homes to escape their homeland's foul weather. They are stereotypically seen as untrustworthy for their insular customs, though this is also because of the multiple instances of cannibalism and shore raiding in times of famine. For their muddy homeland, territorial ways, and the belief that they routinely "eat their own eggs", they are often referred to as "The Turtle-People" by their Born brethren. They have taken this as a nationalistic symbol, particularly due to the prevalence of aggressive snapping turtles in the brackish rivers of the isles, and the supposed medicinal effect of powdered turtle shell on a man's virility.

Following recent weather anomalies, the Seolhi were among the first to unanimously agree to the great migration, as they stand to have the most to gain. They are a maritime culture through and through, favoring seamanship over war or art, and have high expectations of their people's new place in a new Magnar. The Seolhi, after all, are able to take their prized homes with them, while the neighbors who they believe to have spat down on them from their stone towers cannot.

<sub>• The ancient seat of the Seolhi monarchy is located in the southernmost tip of the isles, in a short cliffside castle known as Urchin's Reach. It is squat, dark grey, and walled off on all sides, with a sole tunnel entrance through a cove underneath the castle -- this is a protective measure, making the fortress only accessible during low tide, once at daybreak and once again at dusk.

• The Seolhi have contributed relatively few inventions to Magnar's history, instead spending most of their history preoccupied with infighting, though there are three creations that the isles rightfully take credit for; the lobster crate, the galley, and a style of somber eight-lined poem known as "Sküvosa". Aside from their original creations, the Seolhi isles supply the rest of Magnar through their trades with firstly with salt, as well as pearls and cured meats. Though it is not a true export, the backbone of the Seolhi economy is made up of money sent home by Seolhi sailors and fishermen living in other realms.

• Due to the poor farmland and comparatively high rate of death in the isles, be it through murder, drowning, or the most common killer of the West -- respiratory infections -- the Seolhi isles have the lowest population of any realm, and highest number of immigrants living abroad. "Wandering Seolhi" who have left the isles for one reason or another typically live nomadically, running aground to cook meals or gather supplies wherever they have sailed.</sub>

Realm Rulers

The Master of Seolhi, Einar Seolhi, is a man of seven-and-eighty. Though once known for his cunning intellect and shadowy diplomatic tactics -- namely bribery, intimidation, and extortion -- his once-devious mind is now a cloud of fragmented memories and nameless faces. These days, he is lucky if he remembers to wear his crown to court, much less the intricacies of ruling the realm. In fact, it is a well-kept secret within the walls of Urchin's Reach that Einar is unaware of the great migration taking place. For the last three years, he has believed it to be the last month of winter. In his stead, the realm is almost entirely lead by his remaining children, Dag and Suriah Seolhi.

In his youth, Einar Seolhi was known as "The Cloak of The West" for his reliance on secretive dealings and intrigue to rule the isles. His son Dag, on the other hand, is known by his men as "The Hammer of the West". After an attempt at Einar's life some thirty-odd years ago, he sent his only child to be sired as far from the Seolhi isles as possible, being raised by the ruling family of Steindahl for a sizable coffer of gold. Among the northerners, Dag grew as harsh and cold as the land, focusing his waking hours avoiding the torment of his many foster brothers and honing his skill with the hinterlander's weapon of choice; the Morningstar. In his solitude, Dag grew into a fearsome, cruel combatant.

Dag returned ten years later, half-blind and covered in a patchwork of scars, but quicker and stronger for having earned them. He is a warrior before he is a prince of the Seolhi court, and having never learned so much as how to rig a sail, his identity as a warrior is paramount in establishing dominance in his interactions. Though his father eagerly awaited his return, gifting him a sizable longboat and ancestral sword upon his arrival, there has always been a sense of bitterness on Dag's end for his father's abandonment, as well as for his return home coinciding with his father's slow descent into delirium. Having spent the last decade in his native isles, Dag has accrued a crew of two dozen loyal cronies despite his inability to sail, spending most of his time in his captain's quarters.

Of the five children sired by Einar Seolhi, Suriah is the only one to have survived growing up in the isles. Considering the circumstances of her birth, this is nearly miraculous; Delivered a month early and through a breech birth that killed her mother during delivery -- three separate but equally poor omens in Seolhi culture -- Suriah was called only "The Girl" by her wetnurses until she was two, out of the Seolhi custom to not name children who seem small or sickly. In spite of her mercurial health as an infant Suriah grew up like a weed, embracing both the princess's matters of royal court, and the seafaring customs of her people. Despite the slight inferiority complex garnered from vying for her father's attention amidst the death and disappearance of her older brothers, Suriah's life was easily the easiest following her ill health as a child, until a fateful birthday.

On the seventeenth anniversary of her birth, Suriah fainted in the halls of Urchin's Reach and began to shake violently, as if possessed by spirits. For a fortnight, she slept with a breath so faint her father feared to put a blanket over her chest. After all known medicines failed, Einar turned to the spiritual world, sending for priests, healers, and miracle workers throughout all of Magner. His quest ended shortly after meeting the witch Vasvalya, who breathed life into Suriah with a blessed sealskin pouch. From there, it is rumored among the low Seolhi lords and other enemies of the Seolhi crown that Suriah would go on to study the denomination of the witch who healed her, cursing her enemies to gain swift victories in her father's name.

Children of the Greatfather

Still working on Seolhi-Princess info, but other than that, sheet's done.

Children of the Greatfather: A viking-themed medieval nation roleplay.

Bumping this to get some more eyes on the viking shenanigans going down.

Children of the Greatfather

Realm Information

As long as they have existed, the Seolhi have been on the outskirts of Magnar. The Seolhi isles run along Magnar's Western shores, making up an archipelago whose craggy mountains breaks apart sea storms, sparing their Eastern neighbors the damp winds the Seolhi isles are known for. Their harsh, stormy homelands are not by chance or choice; In the earliest years, the Greatfather granted his son Seolh domain of a small, barren formation of islands as punishment for blinding his brother Eshkag in an unarmed duel of strength. Believed to be born from the line of the wickedest of the Greatfather's sons, Seolhi culture has been inherently hard-hearted since its inception -- Children's tales from the isles tend to incorporate grim, straightforward lessons, funerals involve little more than rifling through the pockets and disposing of a corpse, and the societal expectation of the elderly and enfeebled to unburden their families through suicide is so strong that there is a specific Seolhi holiday for it, known as "Raft's Day."

Since Seolh was cast out to the Western isles, the reputation of the area has managed to improve very little, as it has bred a people known for little more than their clannish, territorial nature and their use of ships as year-round homes to escape their homeland's foul weather. They are stereotypically seen as untrustworthy for their insular customs, though this is also because of the multiple instances of cannibalism and shore raiding in times of famine. For their muddy homeland, territorial ways, and the belief that they routinely "eat their own eggs", they are often referred to as "The Turtle-People" by their Born brethren. They have taken this as a nationalistic symbol, particularly due to the prevalence of aggressive snapping turtles in the brackish rivers of the isles, and the supposed medicinal effect of powdered turtle shell on a man's virility.

Following recent weather anomalies, the Seolhi were among the first to unanimously agree to the great migration, as they stand to have the most to gain. They are a maritime culture through and through, favoring seamanship over war or art, and have high expectations of their people's new place in a new Magnar. The Seolhi, after all, are able to take their prized homes with them, while the neighbors who they believe to have spat down on them from their stone towers cannot.

<sub>• The ancient seat of the Seolhi monarchy is located in the southernmost tip of the isles, in a short cliffside castle known as Urchin's Reach. It is squat, dark grey, and walled off on all sides, with a sole tunnel entrance through a cove underneath the castle -- this is a protective measure, making the fortress only accessible during low tide, once at daybreak and once again at dusk.

• The Seolhi have contributed relatively few inventions to Magnar's history, instead spending most of their history preoccupied with infighting, though there are three creations that the isles rightfully take credit for; the lobster crate, the galley, and a style of somber eight-lined poem known as "Sküvosa". Aside from their original creations, the Seolhi isles supply the rest of Magnar through their trades with firstly with salt, as well as pearls and cured meats. Though it is not a true export, the backbone of the Seolhi economy is made up of money sent home by Seolhi sailors and fishermen living in other realms.

• Due to the poor farmland and comparatively high rate of death in the isles, be it through murder, drowning, or the most common killer of the West -- respiratory infections -- the Seolhi isles have the lowest population of any realm, and highest number of immigrants living abroad. "Wandering Seolhi" who have left the isles for one reason or another typically live nomadically, running aground to cook meals or gather supplies wherever they have sailed.</sub>

Realm Rulers

The Master of Seolhi, Einar Seolhi, is a man of seven-and-eighty. Though once known for his cunning intellect and shadowy diplomatic tactics -- namely bribery, intimidation, and extortion -- his once-devious mind is now a cloud of fragmented memories and nameless faces. These days, he is lucky if he remembers to wear his crown to court, much less the intricacies of ruling the realm. In fact, it is a well-kept secret within the walls of Urchin's Reach that Einar is unaware of the great migration taking place. For the last three years, he has believed it to be the last month of winter. In his stead, the realm is almost entirely lead by his remaining children, Dag and Suriah Seolhi.

In his youth, Einar Seolhi was known as "The Cloak of The West" for his reliance on secretive dealings and intrigue to rule the isles. His son Dag, on the other hand, is known by his men as "The Hammer of the West". After an attempt at Einar's life some thirty-odd years ago, he sent his only child to be sired as far from the Seolhi isles as possible, being raised by the ruling family of Steindahl for a sizable coffer of gold. Among the northerners, Dag grew as harsh and cold as the land, focusing his waking hours avoiding the torment of his many foster brothers and honing his skill with the hinterlander's weapon of choice; the Morningstar. In his solitude, Dag grew into a fearsome, cruel combatant.

Dag returned ten years later, half-blind and covered in a patchwork of scars, but quicker and stronger for having earned them. He is a warrior before he is a prince of the Seolhi court, and having never learned so much as how to rig a sail, his identity as a warrior is paramount in establishing dominance in his interactions. Though his father eagerly awaited his return, gifting him a sizable longboat and ancestral sword upon his arrival, there has always been a sense of bitterness on Dag's end for his father's abandonment, as well as for his return home coinciding with his father's slow descent into delirium. Having spent the last decade in his native isles, Dag has accrued a crew of two dozen loyal cronies despite his inability to sail, spending most of his time in his captain's quarters.

Of the five children sired by Einar Seolhi, Suriah is the only one to have survived growing up in the isles. Considering the circumstances of her birth, this is nearly miraculous; Delivered a month early and through a breech birth that killed her mother during delivery -- three separate but equally poor omens in Seolhi culture -- Suriah was called only "The Girl" by her wetnurses until she was two, out of the Seolhi custom to not name children who seem small or sickly. In spite of her mercurial health as an infant Suriah grew up like a weed, embracing both the princess's matters of royal court, and the seafaring customs of her people. Despite the slight inferiority complex garnered from vying for her father's attention amidst the death and disappearance of her older brothers, Suriah's life was easily the easiest following her ill health as a child, until a fateful birthday.

On the seventeenth anniversary of her birth, Suriah fainted in the halls of Urchin's Reach and began to shake violently, as if possessed by spirits. For a fortnight, she slept with a breath so faint her father feared to put a blanket over her chest. After all known medicines failed, Einar turned to the spiritual world, sending for priests, healers, and miracle workers throughout all of Magner. His quest ended shortly after meeting the witch Vasvalya, who breathed life into Suriah with a blessed sealskin pouch. From there, it is rumored among the low Seolhi lords and other enemies of the Seolhi crown that Suriah would go on to study the denomination of the witch who healed her, cursing her enemies to gain swift victories in her father's name.