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7 mos ago
Current It is time someone brought monsters back to this site.
2 yrs ago
What do you call a rude criminal going down a flight of stairs? A condescending con descending. I'll be here all week, remember to tip your servers.
4 likes
2 yrs ago
What do you call a short physic running from the police? A small medium at large. I'll be here all week.
2 likes
2 yrs ago
That fight scene to start The Punisher S2 tho
1 like
2 yrs ago
Have y'all ever had music that made you want to change the tone of your RP? I have, and it's amazing.
3 likes

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Most Recent Posts

Interested as well. Got an idea being kicked around upstairs
I still want to wait for 1 more before the OOC goes up, but I don't want to wait a while longer so OOC goes up tomorrow afternoon.
We're currently at 3 interested. I will let this stay up for a day or two more before porting it over to the OOC probably sometime Thursday.
@Utrax

Character sheets are not required first, but I figured I give everyone it ahead of time if they were considering all the same.

@Lauder

Glad to have it!
@Tangletail

I lean more towards DnD but with restrictions. I am flexible though so if there is a particular race that you want to explore just PM me and we can work it out.


It was night time in the City of Ash and it was alive with revelry.

Every table in every bar on every street corner found itself packed with the smelly, sweating, and ravenous patrons one would expect for a night like tonight; for tonight was a night unlike any other. Today marked the anniversary of the horrid War of the Breech many centuries ago after all.

The patrons dug into their food with a rabid intensity as onlookers waited anxiously for their meals to arrive, jealously alive in their eyes, while the rest of the crowd drowned themselves, mug after mug, with the various alcoholic drinks available; mostly mead and Something Else, a local favorite. The floors looked as if they were assaulted by the God of Decay with half-eaten chickens and gods-knows-what else littering the floor while bile and unknown liquids poured forth like a torrent of awfulness. This was expected. This scene is one that many a soul has traveled to be seen. While in normal times owner would be appalled to see the state of his bar, the bartender looked on with a smile on hand for today was the day everyone celebrated, and nobody was upset. Unless of course, you knew better.

No one alive today experienced it yet the stories are still told, albeit seldom spoken in whole, by the bards and by the elders. They spin a tale of monsters of flesh and metal stalking the country-side, whole armies annihilated by great beasts of war, and of the gods returning to the mortal realm, saving us in our darkest time. They know the stories of many a great hero, many that died and fewer yet that lived, that helped curb the tide of the assault on the mortal races. They know the stories of all seven gods that still reside in our realm, placed in fortified temples where they have kept the shield up that prevents the creatures of nightmares from returning. They also know that today was never a day of celebration. Today, to them, is a day of remembrance. Remembering the errors of the all the races that led to the Breach, the errors of commanders who led their soldiers to slaughter, and the greed of the many who prayed on the few still living during it all. Today they remember and look on at the parties with a stern gaze and speak a cautionary tale to those who will listen.

It was such an elder who found himself sitting on a famous corner, deep in the heart of the City of Ash, judging the crowds from a distance. As he sat, he was approached by a young man in search of a tall tale. The man towered over the frail build of the elder, though he approached with a smile and asked if a seat next to the old man was taken, to which the old man responded no.

"I hear you know a story or two about the Breach Wars, old man," the towering individual asked as he sat down.

"Old man," the elder asked, "I'll have you know I am no older than your parents may be, are they so old to you?"

"I meant no disrespect, elder," the towering man said with a chuckle, "I am a student at the great magic school at Itos, and I and my fellow classmates have traveled far to this city to hear the tales of the war. I have been told you know a story or two, and I would like to know where we went wrong in the past."

"Not interested in the parties," quizzed the old man.

"No, especially not if I can learn something to tell my friends back home," the towering man responded.

The old man smiled weakly and pulled his posture straight as he did. "Perhaps there is hope for you youngin's after all," he responded with a wink. "Alrighty, this is a story of heroes who did not know they were such at the time, a story of the gods who gave up their immortal life to shield us, and it is a tale of the common folk who banded together and saved life as we know it. They came from all walks of life, some of the noble pursuits and some not, while the gods themselves were our most holy. The war was terrible in all accounts, but I will start my story off at where we started winning, right here in the City of Ash, three-hundred, and thirty-three years ago. The gods, now walking among us, used their divine powers to seal the breach and thus ending the never-ending flow of nightmares that stemmed forth like a raging river into our real-,, " the old man paused as his head tilted to the left, "realm, that started," pausing again, this time standing up, "what is that awful ruckus?," the old man stopped speaking.

The towering individual turned his head, the same direction the elder did seconds before, and listened. "Heyyyyy, I am soo not drunk guys – Where's my food – where are we- what did – for – somebody needs to -I think you've – did you grab my – what is the mean- how oft- wherein th-" The more the towering man listened, the less he heard and the less he understood. He turned his attention the old man, who was visibly shaking, and asked; "what do you hear old man?"

"Don't you hear it? The screaming," he answered back.

The towering man listened again, and this time he heard it; growing louder every second he did, the sounds of people panicking and shattering objects, blood-curdling screams that filled the nights' air only to be silenced, and he listened as it was getting closer and closer and closer. "Stay behind me elder," the towering man shouted as he stood up and his hands erupted into flames, "I will protect you," he promised. Though promise he did, the towering man's voice was soon added to the melody of screams, as the chorus of horror began to fill the air and erupt throughout the City of Ash.

From miles around people could see the fires that raged that night, and even further could people see the plume of smoke that trailed over the horizon the next day.

A few days later the city Arcadia, located fifteen miles away, was attacked and destroyed. Then Sev’mo, and then Barin, and so on. Soon there-after reports of a new, smaller than the one told of in the history books, Breach was received by the Council of Seven, and the armies of the mortal realm were quickly mobilized. Any questions as to how this could have transpired under the watch of the Gods were quickly answered, as a God was missing. Without notice Rofella, Goddess of War, had vanished from her temple and disappeared into the night. With her disappearance, the shield that protected our realm waned until it broke allowing the Breach to once again return; albeit in reduced effectiveness. As the main armies mobilized to surround and fight the monsters of flesh and metal, a plan was quickly put in motion. The Seven Kingdoms would each send a small force led by one of their best commanders to find the missing god.

Time is of the essence. For with each passing week, the other Gods grow weaker as the strain of maintaining the shield has increased. With each passing day, the enemy pushes closer and closer to their temples. With each passing hour, smaller Breaches open all across the countryside. The dawn of the apocalypse is here, and the fiery inferno of our end times have arrived.

- - - - - - -

The Basic idea for this story:




The gods of our story:






History: War of the Breach






Kingdoms:






Enemies:


Current information about our enemies is scattered at best. The reports from the front have spoken of monsters of flesh and metal, with varying descriptions. Our enemies seem to be sentient, and unique in their actions. Though the history books have the information in the temple at Intebunie, Yamthurr has yet yielded those books to scholars or tacticians.

How magic works in this RP




Here are a few ideas behind the magic themselves. There can be different variation on each. You can use whatever form of magic within reason, so if you wanted to create a water mage or something new, let me know and we can work from there.




Races


Standard humanoid fantasy races and subraces.

Rules:






Questions:


About me:


Hello! I am a whale that just came into existence out of nowhere here to try this again. A few months back I attempted to bring this into existence but with a few health issues, and IRL going crazy at my place of employment, I had to put it on hold. I am back and ready to lead some brave idiots through hell and back.



Post away!


A prayer for change
@Opposition


The chaos of the Reclaim washed over S'venia, and it's roar nearly toppled her as she stumbled into the side of one of the many buildings that lined the streets.

Why didn't you try to help and- you were there, the people ne- you just ran, you FU- they neede-

"Shut up," S'venia thought to herself as she shifted her weight onto the building. She pulled her hands over her chest as she leaned to the side. The events of yesterday still stymied the thoughts of doing her job today. Expected at the clinic fifteen minutes ago S'venia had only made it halfway across the district. The memories of yesterday still weighed on her mind. She was close enough to hear the bomb go off, and her drone could see the people in need. Yet she did not turn back nor did she rush to their aid. She stood in her spot, mouth wide, as she watched the video feed come in. She saw those who were injured, some critically, and she did nothing. Why didn't she do something?

Her eyes shifted to a store in front of her. Her reflection stared back, though it was not very clear. The thick grime of the reclaim air clung to the shop's old windows, placing a filter over the reflection that stared back. Her shape was there, but something was dirty about what S'venia saw; it was someone she did not recognize. Her lips trembled, while tears began to well in the corners of her eyes in the window. She looked scared, afraid, and beaten down. She finally had her first test to help the people, and she had failed.

You could have ran ba- when are you gonn- where was S'venia wh- you think you can le-

The thoughts came once again and washed over her yet she did not silence them again. She listened. In the window, she watched as her lips curled, and her tears came forth. Who had taken her peace of mind? Someone had attacked her city, her people, and had called her out. They challenged her even. S'venia felt a rage rise in her the more she stared into the mirror. Whomever this terrorist was, they would need to pay.

She slid her glasses off her forehead and over her eyes. She unwrapped her computer and opened up a program. The smell of the putrid Reclaim air fell over her as she did but she made no attempt to cover her nose nor hide from the fusty stench. Typing quickly with her free hand, she had a message ready to be sent.


>>> 𝕃𝕠𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘…
>>> 𝕎𝕖𝕝𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕕𝕖𝕟, 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕨𝕖 𝕓𝕦𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕣 𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠𝕕𝕒𝕪?
>>> "𝕓𝕦𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘”
>>> "𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕓𝕦𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘?”
>>> “𝕀𝕟𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕠𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕪𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕕𝕒𝕪”
>>> . . . .
>>> 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕦𝕪 𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕙𝕒𝕤 𝕓𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕤𝕦𝕓𝕞𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕕. 𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕓𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕒𝕔𝕥 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕗𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕓𝕦𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤. 𝔸𝕟𝕪𝕥....
>>> CONNECTION CLOSED.


With a tap of a button, S’venia closed the application. She would need to trade a secret to get this one. Her eyes drifted back to her reflection in the mirror. She forced a smile, but it was one that was betrayed by her eyes. They were pushed all the way open, and their gaze burrowed through the glasses. "Whoever they are, The Truth shall set them free," she whispered. Taking a deep breath S'venia closed her eyes before she exhaled slowly. As she opened them once again, she removed her glasses. The window stared back at her still, but she was back. Honest smile, eyes that welcomed you in, and a sincere look that made S'venia approachable. She closed her computer and used her free hand to wipe away the tears that had fallen. She had a job to do, and she was late.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

After traversing the district, S’venia found herself at the clinic. “This is S’venia once again coming to you live, currently at the Baolei clinic. As you can see,” S’venia paused as she stretched her arm outward, the video followed as she did, “there are many here seeking help.” She paused as she returned her arm to her side. “I am going to see if I can get some interviews started with the monks and those who are receiving help, stay tuned! Let's head on in,” before turning on her heel to face the entrance. The crowd was only growing, filled with the tired and desperate masses yearning for relief. What relief was Dao offering?

S’venia found the timing between the lack of Neurosynthase and the masses flocking here to be suspicious. What relief could meditation and tea bring to someone's mind that is breaking apart at its core? What relief were chants of kumbaya when the mind turned against the body? There was nothing that S’venia knew of that could cure what these poor souls faced besides the drug, outside the sweet embrace of death. There was something going on here, and she wanted to see what this brand of compassion could accomplish.

S’venia took off at a slow pace towards the front of the clinic, before finding herself in front of a monk. “Hi,” S’venia said as she flashed a smile and a wave, “S’venia Skor, press, with the South City Blues.” S’venia paused as she grabbed her press chip and extended it for the monk to check. “The city is enamoured with the charitable work that you all are doing here! If it’s not too much trouble I was wondering if I could get a glimpse at the good being done here today?”

I am putting this oI am putting this on hold for now. No excuses.n hold for now. No excuses.
I am putting this on hold for now. No excuses.
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