Oh lordy, the bulk of today. That's wild. I just stress-induce myself into compressing all my writing into hour long chunks.
Haha, well I'm almost done the prologue portion and then I'll be moving onto launching the IC proper, just want to review the sheets again to get a feel for the antagonists already mentioned and see what I can work in.
EDIT: Prologue is now added to the Zeroth Post of the IC. Working on the true opener now.
EDIT II: First true IC post is up. I've made references to two of your characters and gotten the ball going on our first plot line. Bancroft post to come in a bit, but for now the IC is open to all accepted players.
Planning on spending the bulk of tomorrow completing the Prologue and kicking off the IC with two back-to-back posts and then I'll set you lot free on Mossflower.
▼ P H Y S I C A L T R A I T S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Build - Treewhiffler ► Fur Colour - Red ► Eye Colour - Grey ► Other - He has a ring pierced into his right ear and has scars on his left shoulder from the pox. -
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
▼ C H A R A C T E R N O T E S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Note He breaks into both Grey and Red Squirrel dialects sometimes He loves mushroom soup He prefers foraging at dusk as opposed to dawn
▼ P A R A P H E R N A L I A ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Birchwood bow A shortbow made out of Birch, usually found slung around his shoulder when not in his hand. He carries a quiver with 12 self-made arrows on his back. The arrowheads sort of resemble pinecones, and he refers to them as such. ► Woodland Tunic Basic handstitched cloth in green and yellow colors, combining it with his fur provides camouflage from everybeast. The hood is too small for him. ► Mark Of The Grey An amulett hung around his neck indicating his mixed history and the tragedies that befell his family.
-
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
It's impossible to tell the story of the Squirrel Ekorrnelius without talking about his parents, his mother Greta The Red and his father Malley O' Grey. What people outside of the squirrel tribes don't know is that there's a great deal of tension between the grey and red squirrels, away from the abbey they squander and fight among themselves and rarely manage to live harmoniously. The greys outnumber the reds, three to one in general population which forces the reds to move habitats when a tribe of grey squirrels move in, the greys tend to keep to themselves which is why we're all far more familiar with red squirrels as the members of many fellowships in tales. Greta was a member of a red tribe, a proud daughter to the tribe's spiritual leader. It was after the battle at Birch Oak hill, far to the east of Redwall Abbey that Greta med Malley Koll, a grey squirrel who had fought against the vermin who had attacked his tribe. Malley was one of few survivors holding onto his life while hiding in a pile of bodies in the mud. Unlike most of his peers, Malley was absolutely worthless with a bow, opting to fight with spear and sword instead.
Mallley was nursed back to health by Greta and it was apparent their relationship was blooming. Such a relationship was seen as highly taboo among their peers which is why their relationship remained secret. Soon they sired a child and their relationship could no longer be held secret. Ekko's grandfather shunned his daughter, but allowed her to stay in the village, and thus Malley came to live with her. When Ekko was half a season old, his mother fell ill. She had contracted the highly contagious squirrelpox. Greta was soon blinded by the pox as it took root in her son, and soon most of the village of Rootstam was blinded, starving and perishing one by one by the pox. See, it isn't just because the Greys are bigger and stronger than the reds that they are overwhelming them in numbers, but also because they are asymptomatic carriers of the squirrelpox gene, in squirrel folk-lore, it is believed the red and greys were once one species but a curse was put upon them, creating the pox and stripping the greys of their red color. The greys, naturally have a altered take on the tale.
Malley quickly escaped the village once he found out that he had given them the pox and has not been seen by another red squirrel since. Ekorrnelius survived the pox without blindness or any permanent effects, sans a few scars on his skin largely because of his mixed heritage. He was shunned by his peers for his father's curse, named Poxborn and exiled from ever living in a red squirrel tribe again. That is how he found his way to redwall where they clergy accepted him with open arms.
In a sense, Ekorrnelius is exactly what you would expect from a young red squirrel. A defender of nature, protector of those who cannot protect themselves, a masterful climber and naturally gifted with a bow. Knows the woods like the back of his hand and can identify just about any fauna on sight or smell alone. He's just entered his young adult phase and with it comes new responsibilities and a desire to shed his past full of grief.
In the abbey, he forages food that they cannot grow themselves, as such it is not uncommon to see the rather large squirrel come carrying large mushrooms or wild berries in droves. He also makes it a point to scout for potential attacks while honing his archery - a task nobody has ever asked him to perform but some of the gatekeeper and other guard personell are thankful for.
D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E
For a seemingly red squirrel, Ekko stands taller than his peers, a few inches taller than any of the biggest red squirrels, yet smaller than any grey squirrels - not that he's met any since he was a kitten - he's incredibly athletic and lean. His tail is fluffy and messy as is the rest of his fur, being well-groomed has never been a priority for him. When he arrived at the abbey as a young boy, the other children sometimes teased him for being stinky, the teasing never stuck enough for him to change his grooming habits.
Beyond bodily size, his eyes are calmly grey and carry a fire within them. Ekko is driven, energetic and deeply empathic to other people's plights, sometimes he prefers to hide it behind a rash surface and stiff body language, yet his true self always cracks through the surface. The squirrel is never seen without his bow and quiver. His clothes are torn, stitched up by himself- some holes were too big for him to patch so he asked one of the maidens at the abbey for help - usually rather dirty and a poor fit as they haven't kept up with his recent growth spurt.
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
Goals: Protect those weaker then him - a goal of just about all red squirrels
Become the greatest bowsquirrel to have lived
Learn more about the conflict between his two heritages
Get accepted back into the red tribes
Find his father
Plotlines:
Archery Contest - Ekko signs up for a friendly competition at Redwall that spirals out of control when he forms a rivalry with a pure blooded red squirrel.
Steal From the Rich Give To The Poor - A Rich noblemen parades around the forest, abusing his power and position to bully the farmers and peasents around Redwall, Ekko plans a heist.
I am no Lionheart - Ekko comes to terms with his paternal affinity for swordplay.
The Grey Knight - He finds out tracks that could lead him to finding Malley and maybe finding answers to putting all of his grief and shame behind him.
Name: Marigold Yew
Species: Squirrel
History: It was a beautiful summer's day in Mossflower on the day when she was born. Her mother and father both gloried in how healthy and beautiful she was. As they took in her form, they decided to name her Marigold to match the color of her fur. So she grew into a child under her parents' warm love, taking easily to climbing and to her early lessons with the bow. She was shy of others though, even those of her own tribe. She mostly preferred the solitude of a high enough branch to silently watch the world below. Otherwise, she would follow her mother while she gathered safe nuts, berries, and herbs, allowing her mother to teach her daughter how to use some for medicine and what poisons to avoid.
But all that came to a sudden and dark end. While out alone one day, she ran into some vermin scouts. Frightened, she tried to run back to warn everyone else, but the rats caught her and brought her back to their camp. She struggled all day and night, hoping that maybe she could get out or reunite with her parents. But when the next vermin party returned, they brought back most of her tribe enslaved, with the head of her father and mother on spikes for leading the attempt to resist. Marigold froze, then bowed her head and wept, now certain that all hope was lost.
The vermin wandered around, raiding and pillaging from one place to another. All the while, Marigold was carted along behind them, having to slave for them all, especially their captain, Captain Bloody Irontooth, a sour, bloodthristy, clever rat. The rest of her tribe she lost track of, but she became more and more sure by the day that the rest of them were dead. She wasn't quite sure why she wasn't dead as well. But she was, with the numbness that had been overhanging her since seeing her parents' death finally starting to dissipate. An opportunity came to her one night to escape, and she raced forward and took it. She didn't know how long she ran, or how far, but when she collapsed to rest, she found herself no where near the camp. Instead, she was in a glade with a small flowing stream and plenty of food to last her some time. She was free, but now she needed to make sure she was safe.
She managed to roughly fashion some bows and arrows for herself, then set up a place in an old tree hole where she had a good lookout to watch what happened in her glade. Then she made sure to store enough food and water in her home to not have to leave if anyone should trespass in, along with plenty of arrows if an attack should come and herbs and leaves to treat injuries. And with that, she's managed to survive, constantly on the look out for vermin trying to take her while reminding herself each and every day that she's free now, and she'll not be taken so easily again if they tried to take her back again.
Personality: Quiet and Cautious, Marigold takes some time to be coaxed out of her shell. If she suspects there's danger, she'll be completely on her toes. Inside though is a warm, caring nature.
Motives and Goals: Right now, Marigold's only motives are to not be taken again and to try to make a life for herself now that she's all alone. My basic idea for her is that she'll fill the role of the lone hermit that the Redwallians cajole into joining them on their journey. Maybe she'll find out that not all her tribe is dead then be motivated to help them. Maybe the captain she served under could now serve the Yurazen Prince and so she'll be able to strike back at the rat responsible for what happened to her. Maybe she'll step when vermin try to do what happened to her tribe to some other tribe and that's how she joins the story. My goal for her endgame is that she ends up in Redwall, finally able to be at peace and heal while not being alone anymore, helping with treating people in the infirmary.
Happy Squirrel Day!
Really enjoyed both of these sheets and can't wait to see how they fit in with the cast. Both Ekko and Marigold are accepted.
@Lord Wraith Methinks Rigby is maybe only a season or two older than Bancroft, or maybe they're the same age... So I do imagine they might have played together when they were younger. So there could be a story or two there (I foresee them getting into trouble, yes, because Dibbuns). And if Bancroft visits regularly then it wouldn't have been that hard to maintain a sense of friendship, at the very least. Unless they started out disliking each other, lol, though they don't seem likely to. Rigby's probably bothered him with farming questions at some point and plied him with tasty food and maybe visited his farm? (so he could ask even more questions, obviously)
I definitely see them as being friendly and former trouble makers together. Makes sense the mice would run amok together. I'd imagine that friendship would continue into their 'adulthood'. Would be interesting to see Rigby out on the farm just watching everyone breaking up the earth with their tilling tools and plows and sort of shocked at the amount of work that goes into growing enough grain to keep the Abbey fed.
Born shortly after his family’s arrival at Redwall Abbey, Rigby has known only the kindly, often mischievous, and always friendly company of the Abbey dwellers. He roamed its halls and grounds as a dibbun and got into his fair share of trouble. Though he rarely acted as the ringleader, he was always a willing accomplice. His mother swears he’s the cause of every grey fur she’s got. He knows every inch of the Abbey from the high attic loft to the cellars, from the pond to the battlements. He also knows how to coax a tasty midday treat from the cooks and is happy to share his knowledge with the young ones when they start looking for a little adventure or an afternoon snack. Though now he’s more likely to play mediator and offer distractions that aren’t as… foolhardy as his were.
He loves all of it, and all the creatures living within the walls (and without), but his most favourite place to spend his time is in the gatehouse with the Abbey Recorder, discussing the Abbey’s history, well-known heroes, and stories so old the parchment’s started crumbling. The library is nice too, but the Gatehouse comes with guests and the chance to be first to hear the news. He has a very good memory and learned from his mother the art of telling a proper story, so he was making good use of that skill even as a dibbun but has grown into the role of entertainer at gatherings and feasts or whenever the dibbuns can coax him into sharing the newest story he’s learned. He’s just as happy to copy out the older records or jot down a note or two about their latest visitor, should it seem appropriate. He even got to write the official record of the last Nameday celebration, with supervision, of course.
His parents were wanderers who’d heard of Mossflower and Redwall during their travels, as well as many other tales they livened the hearth with many a winter’s evening, and though they’d visited it a few times before settling down, it was only after Rigby was born with a missing leg that they decided to stay on. Both for his sake and for the rest of their family since none of them were growing any younger, though he adapted quite handily despite their worries. He doesn’t seem to have inherited much of their wanderlust, though he’s always liked stories about travelling the best, and he does occasionally dream about leaving the Abbey walls and going to visit at least one of the places he’s heard about. Just to experience it, of course: trekking through the woods, or over the hills, or under the hills, wouldn’t that be exciting?
He has also, with rather less dreaming and more paws on practice, turned his curiosity to helpful inquisitiveness and learned the rudiments of a good many crafts. Some, like his father’s carpentry, he learned early on to make himself useful. Others, like beekeeping and cooking, he admittedly got into because they interested him, and he’d been hopeful it would involve a mite more taste testing than it does. But after properly realising that he wanted to become the Recordkeeper himself one day, he decided he needed to know a little of everything he could, to better understand the experiences of those figures in the stories, and the daily life that would have happened around them. Thankfully, although he isn’t always good at the chores he’s helping with, everyone’s been a good sport about letting him have a go. If nothing else, it’s certainly given him a fine appreciation of all the effort that goes into a good many things that make life so convenient at the Abbey.
He has been in more routine attendance of the gatehouse and the gate during the last season, and many of the regular Abbey visitors have gotten to know his particular brand of friendly curiosity and welcome and to recognise his slight brown frame and hopping gait as he opens the gate for them. He is most often wearing a green habit and is rarely seen without his crutches or the sling bag his mother made him, so he can keep his paws free. He also, almost inevitably, has a spot of ink somewhere on him by the end of the day, whether on his paws, or his robe, or his head fur.
Rigby hasn’t lost his youthful energy and might well never (he still races with the dibbuns and enjoys a good frolic), but once he’s settled into a task he can be as focused as any beast, with steady paws and a good eye for detail. He’s grown a good head on his shoulders and maintains a practical sort of enthusiasm for anything he might be doing, finding some way of making it fun, or at least, less boring. He’s always eager to lend a paw or a listening ear and has never been one to turn down a challenge either.
I know I've covered all the necessary information, but my mind is still telling me I'm missing all of the everything and I would like it to stop. That, or someone needs to tell me more specifically what I need to add, because ARGH! I just wanna write 'im!
When I tried asking people for a word instead of the generator, they gave me things like fishing, mammaries, and kumquat. And that definitely stole my focus from argh how to start, to uhhh sure, let’s just go with that.
They were out on the town, fishing for girls like they did every Friday night.
"Wow!" Riley exclaimed, extending a hand to stop Patrick in his tracks. "Look at the kumquats on her." He blurted excitedly drawing Pat's attention to the woman's generous mammaries.
Haha, my go to for posts I can’t figure out how to start is to find a random word generator and try using that. Just write whatever stupid sentence comes of it and follow up, since at least then the post is started, even if it’s coming from way out the left field.
Admittedly that's not a bad idea haha. I'll have to give it a try.
Lol, I’d be good with it if it weren’t so long since I’ve written one. I was stalling out last night just trying to figure out how to start. But the good fallback is always backstory, so eventually I got the old noggin sorted and firing right.
Always hard to shake out the cobwebs, I keep picking away at the IC because I run into similar problems when writing posts until I get the momentum going.
Reluctantly retired roleplayer.
Except when I'm not.
Why are you here when you should be writing posts?
You can edit a bad draft, but you cannot edit a blank page.
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">Reluctantly retired roleplayer. <br><br>Except when I'm not.<br><br>Why are you here when you should be writing posts?<br><br>You can edit a bad draft, but you cannot edit a blank page.</div>
Member
Sep
Kalas
RPM
Eddie Brock
Mao Mao
Cyberlad
Captain Uni
Melissa
Stein
Antlers