Lone Wanderer

[Advanced] The Fall of an Empire: Space Opera NRP

Consider me interested.

The Rise of Man (Fallout-like RP)

@MetalLover Oops, just read that everyone starts with a maximum of 10 territories, i'll make the according changes to my claim and the map I threw up.
Hmm, so what does that mean for the United Kingdom? As that makes up easily 20+ territories.

The Rise of Man (Fallout-like RP)

Interested!
Currently working on a faction within France which emerged from bunkers in Marseille and Lyon. It's inhabitants being descendant of members of the pre-war government, with aims, very much so clashing with the Normans, of forming a new France.

With my interest, I do bring an updated map which hopefully matches the territories you guys wanted.

World Map

Additions:
Light Green - The Kingdom of Great Britain + Gibraltar
Red - The Free Republic of Normandy
Blue - The Sixth French Republic

@Frengo I'll be bouncing my ideas of your NS and the current lore you've set. Mine will be one of the many factions clashing for control over the divided French mainland.
Before I continue with my NS, I trust you're okay with me being a faction in France?

Where the Shadows Lie

@CondorTheMole Rightly so, consider them added.

@rush99999 Calemvir will want answers first, he'll report to the Overlord and probably interact with Bastian or Uaziezuhr while he's there.

Where the Shadows Lie

Calemvir

"Return to me."

These words burned themselves into the empty vessel of a dormant mind. The words drummed louder and more incessant as time passed by, and slowly understanding dawned. The cobwebs that blanketed the minds of the dead, were slowly shook away as cognizant thought returned. Thoughts of ash, of flame and of a blade biting deep came with them.

Slowly, the long peaceful and untouched form of a black Dragon shuddered as life fought to bring the long exhumed host back to the world. Even rot and carrion-eaters had feared to disturb the grounded form, for a much more dangerous power had laid claim and promised life. More thoughts returned, of blood, of burning and of the blades wielder.

"STANWYCK!!" A deep and thunderous roar rocked the surroundings as the form of a large black Dragon erupted from the leaves and refuge that had adorned his body for years. As the leaves swirled and fluttered in the wind, they revealed a large dark stain which marred the earthen ground. The Dragon's blood had remained and would continue to do so, forever marking the ground upon which Calemvir had grounded, and bled out alone. The ground upon which he had lost his life.

The great beast lumbered forward, claws raking at the green earth as he adjusted to his new found life. Surrounding him, stood a field of evergreen trees bearing green leaves and spines with outstretched limbs.
A large heart began to beat, blood coursed and thoughts became clearer.

A wild swiping claw ripped bark free from the closest tree trunk, revealing the inner white of wood and sap.
"Curse you Stanwyck! You have committed you and your kin to death." Even as the vile threat sounded throughout the clearing with a deep, reptilian voice. Calemvir sensed that time had passed, that the Stanwyck that had slain him no longer stood amongst the living. And yet, he fully intended to make good on his threat. As Calemvir's thoughts turned to vengeance and blood, the Overlord's words once more made themselves known, drumming seemingly from within his own ridged skull.

"Yes, of-course." Great and all encompassing wings expanded, shrugging of any of the more adamant leaves which now drifted slowly to their resting places upon the dried and bloodstained earth. With a powerful beat of his large wings, Calemvir took to the skies.

---------------------------------------------------------

Gliding upon the cold wayward winds, the large Dragon materialized from behind a cloud bank over the ruined keep now reduced to nothing more than rubble and a jagged skyline. A throng of crude tents lay outside before it's gates as he looked down upon the ruins, a quarter of which had disappeared over the edge of the cliff the keep sat upon. The winged beast circled the keep once, looking upon the priest who stood atop the fort as dark rifts formed around the being. The Dragon sneered as he came to land before the great doors of the Overlord's keep.

Constructed specifically to accommodate the size of the large Elder Dragon, the great wooden doors now hung limply from their hinges.
"Orcs..." Calemvir spoke aloud as his large snout inhaled. Bringing his wings close against him, the Dragon prowled through the once grand hall of the Overlord. With many of the walls collapsed and the hall empty bar the throne sitting at the halls end, the great beast found there to be more than enough room for his large form.

All four of his clawed feet clinked against the stone floor as Calemvir approached the throne, before finally stopping and rearing his head high.
"Dark one, you asked of me? I have seen an orc encampment beyond these walls and Uaziezuhr upon the ramparts. I believe I smell human... Just what is this?" The Dragon hissed.

---

Actions: Recently awoken, Calemvir has made his way to the Overlord's fort for answers.

Where the Shadows Lie

Calemvir

Calemvir, The Awoken

Race: "Look upon my scales and tell me, am I not an Elder Dragon! You humans and your feeble lives, yours are but a speck in accordance to my own."

---

Strengths:
"You would have me list my strengths as if I lack some? An insult, and I will remember this!"

A form of most powerful and complex muscle hidden behind black scales. Calemvir boasts a towering strength and size among even his own kin, not to mention the lower races of this realm. To stand before such a being would be folly indeed, for amidst the battlefield deadly claws and teeth, or even a swipe from a bludgeoning tail from such a great beast could spell one's end.

Clad in a skin of black scales, this natural hide of overlapping scales common amongst most dragons, protects Calemvir as if it was a suit of plate without the weight, allowing for a perfect freedom of movement. Unlike many of his kin however, Calemvir's hide has been subject to the direct power of dark magics which even now resides upon his scales with their influence, imbuing them with a resistance to most magics.

A dragon's cunning leaves something to be admired, doubly so in Calemvir who has lived millenia to hone it. As many a hero, adventurer and foe has met their end through the devices and machinations of this dragon as by its claws.

A natural advantage of a dragon is the ability of flight. Large, leathery and bat-like wings protrude from Calemvir's back to his upper thigh which allow for flight and gliding in the air. The beating of these powerful wings show the true splendor and power of a true dragon, though such flight can only be sustained for a time due to the large body mass of any dragon and not indefinitely.

Perhaps the most fearsome trait of a dragon remains with its deadliest weapon, Calemvir's fiery breath promises death. A third lung stores the flammable gases of methane and phosphor which when released with the dragon's breath ignites in contact with the air creating a deadly torrent of flame.

Stuff of legend, is a Dragon's horde, on untold riches do Dragons sit. Calemvir had amassed quite the treasury within his mountain cave which he jealously guarded before his fall. Nevertheless, should it remain the wealth is there and perhaps of use if one was to convince him to part with some of it.

---

Flaws:
"How dare you puny being, demand of me to speak my flaws, for there are none!"

While a Dragons hide is indeed strong and true, there are however vulnerabilities among it's hide. A lack of strong scale around Calemvir's eyes, underbelly and the inner leathery skin of his wings remain critical locations, which if struck could grievously wound. Calemvir however has with the help of his Goblin slaves mounted a large and jeweled chest-piece across his upper chest to provide some protection for this vulnerability whilst revealing to all his wealth to behold.

A Dragons greed is a well known trait, and in Calemvir it is no less true. For he holds a maddening lust for gold and when it can be acquired, there will be no reasoning and no planning for it will have to be added to the treasure trove immediately.

Mentioned just as much as their greed and treasure troves, is the arrogance of Dragons. Calemvir is of firm belief that Dragons are superior to all races, even his fellow lieutenants whom are powerful indeed, but simply unable to match the splendor of a Dragon. The lesser races distract themselves with paltry ideals and beliefs, Calemvir is firmly above such things

---

Opinions

"A man, simply human by all accounts of the word. Bastian Wenderuthweiler while certainly insignificant, never ceases to amuse me with his actions of debauchery and ignorance. The man however, is not completely lacking in his use for he is a fine swordsmen and for some unforeseeable reason owns the gift of control over the baser races, if one was to look beyond his final hours with the Overlord, he might even be called... courageous.
Unfortunately, his courage is put to use sating baser, human desires rather than directed in any useful capacity. One must after-all, have courage to court the likes of Serikul
- Nevertheless he certainly makes things interesting, perhaps a friendship with such a man might prove fruitful."

"Orcs, far too large and muscle-bound for their own good, it makes them rather inconvenient to eat. I imagine this remains doubly so for Ukdur Hellhammer who stands among the largest of his race. Even if he fails to match the splendor of myself, his ability to make war owes him some due respect. Why the Orc even managed to gather the Orc Clans, with all of their infighting, and make himself their leader. There must be some quality I'm missing here when I look upon the brute, other than that his kin would make fine slaves."

"Serikul, The Queen of Spiders and the amusing object of Bastian's desire. I'm told she was once human, and a thief no less. Hmm, how many such thieves have departed from this realm through my claws?
She certainly has an interesting set of skills and her command over arachnids is rather intriguing, I remember her songs even now. For as long as she knows not where my treasure horde sits, we shall get along amicably."

"Hah, the cultist Uaziezuhr. A connoisseur in dark magics, always dancing with the demons of the abyss. When I look upon such a corrupted being, I see a fool so twisted amongst the darkness in dark pacts and deals that I see no fortunate end for him. Nevertheless, while his sins catch up to him, the cultist has proven himself a schemer among other things. To trust this man would be my folly, to use him though, my boon."

"Ah, the Dragonkin Skrall. If I respected any of the lot, it would certainly be Skrall. Should I believe his tales, I would believe that while my own ancestors flew in the skies, he stood upon the ground fighting demons. Certainly the Dragonkin's imagination deserves some merit for it's wild stories. Nevertheless, he is of draconic origin and as such worthy of any respect I might bestow upon him."

"The lich Lord Phastum? Speak not of his name for that old spirit was a coward, he might yell and boast of his power but when the time for battle came he fled into the dark. I would like nothing more than to see the abomination gone from here."

---

Backstory:
While the Overlord ruled the realm, Calemvir whom had stood loyal by his side since the early years of his rising. Languished in the new found power through his association with his master, he embraced what was clearly his destiny as a god-king over men and their ilk. For naturally, a beast such as he was superior to the tiny, frail, and short-lived beings that would come to worship him. For power equals truth, and a Dragon's power over men was indisputable evidence of his superiority.

For as long as the Overlord stood, Calemvir ruled over his own piece of territory which he ruled with an iron fist. Terrorized and subject to heavy tributes to their ruler, the people's wealth diminished as the Dragons horde grew into abundance. For the longest time, there was no resistance to his regime assured by a Dragon Cult which was formed to worship their new ruler. Naturally, these sympathizers made up of the least morally concerned folk, benefited from the Dragon's laissez faire rule with riches of their own. All they had to do in return was grovel and worship Calemvir whilst enacting his justice and law upon the land.

This would all come to an end however, when the "Heroes" took up arms and marched against the Overlord and his Dark Lieutenants. News of his fellow lieutenant's being defeated, angered Calemvir greatly. These petty lesser races had to be put in their place. Calemvir took flight from his great treasure horde stowed within a large complex of caves within the mountains, to engage the so-called hero that had entered his territory weeks prior. Sir Stanwyck Reeve, the Gallant was the warriors name, and one which would be added to the list of Dragon-slayers.

Calemvir engages Sir Stanwyck

Sweeping down from the skies, came the black Dragon upon the marching formation of Stanwyck's retinue. A loud cry and a gout of flames amidst the tight ranks of soldiers ended the lives of many and announced to all his arrival. A terrain of ash, fire and screams now surrounded the Dragon and his prey, Sir Stanwyck. A long and drawn out battle ensued, there was something terribly, terribly wrong here. This puny man weathered the fiery breath, and failed to show even the slightest sign of fatigue which encumbered all men. Enraged, Calemvir flew into a relentless assault which would be his undoing.

A swift and sudden blade tore its way across his upper chest, blood seeped from the wound endlessly. Suddenly disheartened, Calemvir took to flight as his life blood left his body freely now. His weakening form continued flight laboriously, covering a grand distance before plummeting to the ground far away from that wretch Stanwyck. There, the Dragon bled out upon the brown earth in a valley of evergreen, in his last tormented moments an energy pulsed throughout his form before the darkness reigned supreme. It would be when the Overlord called, when he would awake once more.

Where the Shadows Lie

Calemvir

Calemvir, The Awoken

Race: "Look upon my scales and tell me, am I not an Elder Dragon! You humans and your feeble lives, yours are but a speck in accordance to my own."

---

Strengths:
"You would have me list my strengths as if I lack some? An insult, and I will remember this!"

A form of most powerful and complex muscle hidden behind black scales. Calemvir boasts a towering strength and size among even his own kin, not to mention the lower races of this realm. To stand before such a being would be folly indeed, for amidst the battlefield deadly claws and teeth, or even a swipe from a bludgeoning tail from such a great beast could spell one's end.

Clad in a skin of black scales, this natural hide of overlapping scales common amongst most dragons, protects Calemvir as if it was a suit of plate without the weight, allowing for a perfect freedom of movement. Unlike many of his kin however, Calemvir's hide has been subject to the direct power of dark magics which even now resides upon his scales with their influence, imbuing them with a resistance to most magics.

A dragon's cunning leaves something to be admired, doubly so in Calemvir who has lived millenia to hone it. As many a hero, adventurer and foe has met their end through the devices and machinations of this dragon as by its claws.

A natural advantage of a dragon is the ability of flight. Large, leathery and bat-like wings protrude from Calemvir's back to his upper thigh which allow for flight and gliding in the air. The beating of these powerful wings show the true splendor and power of a true dragon, though such flight can only be sustained for a time due to the large body mass of any dragon and not indefinitely.

Perhaps the most fearsome trait of a dragon remains with its deadliest weapon, Calemvir's fiery breath promises death. A third lung stores the flammable gases of methane and phosphor which when released with the dragon's breath ignites in contact with the air creating a deadly torrent of flame.

Stuff of legend, is a Dragon's horde, on untold riches do Dragons sit. Calemvir had amassed quite the treasury within his mountain cave which he jealously guarded before his fall. Nevertheless, should it remain the wealth is there and perhaps of use if one was to convince him to part with some of it.

---

Flaws:
"How dare you puny being, demand of me to speak my flaws, for there are none!"

While a Dragons hide is indeed strong and true, there are however vulnerabilities among it's hide. A lack of strong scale around Calemvir's eyes, underbelly and the inner leathery skin of his wings remain critical locations, which if struck could grievously wound. Calemvir however has with the help of his Goblin slaves mounted a large and jeweled chest-piece across his upper chest to provide some protection for this vulnerability whilst revealing to all his wealth to behold.

A Dragons greed is a well known trait, and in Calemvir it is no less true. For he holds a maddening lust for gold and when it can be acquired, there will be no reasoning and no planning for it will have to be added to the treasure trove immediately.

Mentioned just as much as their greed and treasure troves, is the arrogance of Dragons. Calemvir is of firm belief that Dragons are superior to all races, even his fellow lieutenants whom are powerful indeed, but simply unable to match the splendor of a Dragon. The lesser races distract themselves with paltry ideals and beliefs, Calemvir is firmly above such things

---

Opinions:

"A man, simply human by all accounts of the word. Bastian Wenderuthweiler while certainly insignificant, never ceases to amuse me with his actions of debauchery and ignorance. The man however, is not completely lacking in his use for he is a fine swordsmen and for some unforeseeable reason owns the gift of control over the baser races, if one was to look beyond his final hours with the Overlord, he might even be called... courageous. Unfortunately, his courage is put to use sating baser, human desires rather than directed in any useful capacity. One must after-all, have courage to court the likes of Serikul - Nevertheless he certainly makes things interesting, perhaps a friendship with such a man might prove fruitful."

"Orcs, far too large and muscle-bound for their own good, it makes them rather inconvenient to eat. I imagine this remains doubly so for Ukdur Hellhammer who stands among the largest of his race. Even if he fails to match the splendor of myself, his ability to make war owes him some due respect. Why the Orc even managed to gather the Orc Clans, with all of their infighting, and make himself their leader. There must be some quality I'm missing here when I look upon the brute, other than that his kin would make fine slaves."

"Serikul, The Queen of Spiders and the amusing object of Bastian's desire. I'm told she was once human, and a thief no less. Hmm, how many such thieves have departed from this realm through my claws?
She certainly has an interesting set of skills and her command over arachnids is rather intriguing, I remember her songs even now. For as long as she knows not where my treasure horde sits, we shall get along amicably."

"Hah, the cultist Uaziezuhr. A connoisseur in dark magics, always dancing with the demons of the abyss. When I look upon such a corrupted being, I see a fool so twisted amongst the darkness in dark pacts and deals that I see no fortunate end for him. Nevertheless, while his sins catch up to him, the cultist has proven himself a schemer among other things. To trust this man would be my folly, to use him though, my boon."

"Ah, the Dragonkin Skrall. If I respected any of the lot, it would certainly be Skrall. Should I believe his tales, I would believe that while my own ancestors flew in the skies, he stood upon the ground fighting demons. Certainly the Dragonkin's imagination deserves some merit for it's wild stories. Nevertheless, he is of draconic origin and as such worthy of any respect I might bestow upon him."

"Allow me a moment to reflect on Lord Phastum."

---

Backstory:
While the Overlord ruled the realm, Calemvir whom had stood loyal by his side since the early years of his rising. Languished in the new found power through his association with his master, he embraced what was clearly his destiny as a god-king over men and their ilk. For naturally, a beast such as he was superior to the tiny, frail, and short-lived beings that would come to worship him. For power equals truth, and a Dragon's power over men was indisputable evidence of his superiority.

For as long as the Overlord stood, Calemvir ruled over his own piece of territory which he ruled with an iron fist. Terrorized and subject to heavy tributes to their ruler, the people's wealth diminished as the Dragons horde grew into abundance. For the longest time, there was no resistance to his regime assured by a Dragon Cult which was formed to worship their new ruler. Naturally, these sympathizers made up of the least morally concerned folk, benefited from the Dragon's laissez faire rule with riches of their own. All they had to do in return was grovel and worship Calemvir whilst enacting his justice and law upon the land.

This would all come to an end however, when the "Heroes" took up arms and marched against the Overlord and his Dark Lieutenants. News of his fellow lieutenant's being defeated, angered Calemvir greatly. These petty lesser races had to be put in their place. Calemvir took flight from his great treasure horde stowed within a large complex of caves within the mountains, to engage the so-called hero that had entered his territory weeks prior. Sir Stanwyck Reeve, the Gallant was the warriors name, and one which would be added to the list of Dragon-slayers.

Calemvir engages Sir Stanwyck

Sweeping down from the skies, came the black Dragon upon the marching formation of Stanwyck's retinue. A loud cry and a gout of flames amidst the tight ranks of soldiers ended the lives of many and announced to all his arrival. A terrain of ash, fire and screams now surrounded the Dragon and his prey, Sir Stanwyck. A long and drawn out battle ensued, there was something terribly, terribly wrong here. This puny man weathered the fiery breath, and failed to show even the slightest sign of fatigue which encumbered all men. Enraged, Calemvir flew into a relentless assault which would be his undoing.

A swift and sudden blade tore its way across his upper chest, blood seeped from the wound endlessly. Suddenly disheartened, Calemvir took to flight as his life blood left his body freely now. His weakening form continued flight laboriously, covering a grand distance before plummeting to the ground far away from that wretch Stanwyck. There, the Dragon bled out upon the brown earth in a valley of evergreen, in his last tormented moments an energy pulsed throughout his form before the darkness reigned supreme. It would be when the Overlord called, when he would awake once more.

Where the Shadows Lie

This certainly looks interesting!
Would you happen to have the room for one more? @rush99999

The Blight - Ruins of Fallion [Undead Fantasy]

Enumerator Goodwin

The Enumerator leading a contingent of Thorns during a purging of the undead.

Burning Rose
William Edmund Goodwin | 32 | Human

Appearance:
A rather indistinct man in both stature and height, William stands at precisely 6 foot with a toned physique and the gait of an experienced fighter, trained and honed through just as much hours of training within the confines of the Ivy Castle as in the field combating the undead. One can tell at a glance this man has weathered the hardships of travelling this forsaken land, whether it be from the notches along his blade or the slight rust adorning parts of his plate mail from weathering the elements.

Easily the most distinct feature of the Enumerators appearance, is that which adorns and protects him. The suit of plate mail overlaying chain-mail which hides from sight his physical appearance. Quite clearly regularly cleaned and maintained, the armour looks well kept but like everything else in this world, never truly free of rust or grime. Evidently a zealot of the Burning Rose by the dark orange leather covering his lower face and left shoulder, emblazoned upon the cloth over his shoulder remains a rose as tendrils of flame wreath around it. The leather's colour denotes the rank of an Enumerator.
A sword kept in check by a leather and plain scabbard hangs by his belt at his side, while several dismaying and sharpened hooks stained with flecks of dried blood hang from the opposite.

Personality:
While few manage to escape the expectations of their upbringings, William could not. Raised within the halls of the Burning Rose order from a young age, William is an Enumerator who will by any means necessary burn out the heresy and corruption within Fallion as his order demands. Grim and relentless, this sometimes sinister man carries out his order's mission with unrelenting determination. The end very much so justifies the means.

Equipment:
- Longsword, a versatile blade laid out in a cruciform pattern with blade, cross-guard, handle and pommel. The blade itself is long, straight and double-edged with a large handle adorned with a rose patterned pommel. The word 'Deliverer' is etched along the blades flat.

- Handaxe, similar to a hatchet in size and shape. The haft of wood is about a foot and a half long with a single-edged axe-blade and a spike protruding from the opposite side. Such a weapon is a signature of the Burning Rose.

- Plate mail, consisting of shaped interlocking plates which cover the entire body, a thick layer of padding, numerous straps and harnesses are worn underneath to distribute the weight worn over it.

- Ironthorn Branch, an iron-cast branch with protruding thorns which when smeared with the blood of a fallen undead, reveals a trail of dark magic leading to the source of the abomination.

- 2 Rose Water elixirs, an elixir concocted within the halls of the Burning Rose capable of invigorating its user with strength when drunk, or speed the natural healing process of a wound when poured over one.

- Powdered bone, a fine dust ground and enchanted within the Ivy Castle and kept in a pouch by William's belt. When thrown into the air, the fine dust rushes towards undead present with a will of its own.

- Various foodstuffs stowed within a backpack.

- A waterskin of water hanging at his belt.

History:
WIP

The Blight

Hello!
I'm interested and specifically looking at being a zealot of the Burning Rose.