Necroes

Magik Ther Was

Name: Rudolph Thomson (Smith)
Age: 32
Gender: Male
Occupation: Accountant/Mercenary
Appearance: 6'4", 240 lbs. All around, he's a big guy. He's white in the extreme, with blond hair and blue eyes. His features are rough, he has perpetual five o'clock shadow, and a large assortment of scars ranging in size, shape, and location.
Personality: He's a smart-ass, a skeptic, and most people find him pretty obnoxious. He's cautious, to an extent, but always ready for a fight, whether or not he actually wants one.
Magic/Abilities: He has a huge amount of experience in almost every field, but mostly in combat. He has access to a small arsenal of weaponry, some of which is magical. The most notable of which is a sword he always carries. The most notable features of the sword are that it's so far proven indestructible, and it's extremely sharp. The hidden aspect of the weapon is that it can absorb the memories and knowledge of those who wield it, as well as impart that knowledge to its wielder. This exchange occurs every time someone new takes possession of the weapon, and the results are permanent.
Bio: Until about ten years ago, Rudolph was a normal guy. He had gone to college, gotten his degree, and found a job in a field he thought he could stand for long enough to make it to retirement. He had a few relationships, had friends, and a number of hobbies. One of those hobbies was collecting weapons. One of those weapons turned out to be a sword which looked like a prop from '300.' In reality, it was the legendary sword of Arise, god of war.
After it became his, things changed. A lot.
He became aware of the existence of magic within the world, as well as a fairly knowledgeable expert on its workings. It tried to use this information to his benefit, but ended up getting himself involved in the magical world at large, and ended up becoming a mercenary for anyone who could find him and offer him a reasonable sum of money. He took up the title 'Smith' because no one took him seriously when he used his real name.
Extra: While most experts agree that the sword has no effect on the personality of a person, imparting only knowledge and not personal habits or the like, Smith is absolutely convinced that he was a much more normal person before he picked up the sword, and without it, would never have made any of the choices he did.

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That's a decent rough draft. I can add more, and intend to, but I wanted approval for the over all idea before moving forward.

Magik Ther Was

I'm interested, but conditionally.

I want to be the muggle in the group. No magic, just grit and experience in ass-kickery.

M for F; Advanced Mature Fiction

To begin, a writing sample;

sample

Within void, there is nothing. Hell is a void, dark and eternal, with only the never ending burning of souls to give any context to existence. Forever filled with the screams of mortals and the screeching laughter of imps and other, lesser demons. In the eternal darkness of the void of hell, only the rare summons interrupted the never ending monotony of waiting for the end times to finally come.

Looking over his legion of elite warriors, a force of one thousand of the most powerful devils, each one capable of bringing entire armies of men to their knees by itself, their great leader shook his head. They had been training for uncountable millennium, getting ready for a battle that may never come. Hell was made to eternally imprison the first fallen, then became a place of endless torment for damned mortals. Ultimately, though, it accomplished better than anything else, boring its only native residents to near insanity.

Immortal by nature, the denizens of hell lived in their own eternal torment. They were born of the black flames, so knew nothing of their burn, but were in pain none the less. They had no drive, no desire or need to continue living. Creatures born of the murderous desires of others, they were born only to kill, maim, slaughter, and destroy, but born into an existence where none of these were possible.

They could kill each other, and many did when the urge struck them, but anything they killed would only be reborn later, spawning from the pit, no worse off for the trip. The power to create from the fire, to mold and change it to any shape they desired, was their's to command, but contrary to their nature. At best, some would forge weapons, such as his own hammer, but anything more complex would only bring others to seek its destruction, if not to be destroyed by the creator itself.

Looking up again, expecting to see his army stretching before him, the great commander was met with a surprise. Before him was something that made him smile for the first time in centuries. A portal had been opened, a call made for him to answer, something finally new to add flavor to his endless boredom.

Stepping forward, he laughed, the horrid sound a bitter, deathly howl which would bring forth images of doom and despair to any that heard it. Coming out into the first true light that had met his eyes in uncounted years, he looked around, standing at his full seven foot height, his hammer held casually over his shoulder, his huge wingspan stretched out, hot wind blowing from it even while it stayed still.

His eyes glowed dark red, bringing to mind nothing but the crimson hue of freshly spilled blood. Within seconds, his form was complete within the material plane, the doorway behind him closing as his form was made whole. The last of his essence coalesced, fusing his senses to the world of the living, and his own being fully to their's.

He was nude, his sheath hanging where the world could see it. Larger than any man's, but seemingly fitting for his size. His fur was clean, enough that it would have glistened if the odd color reflected ambient light. As it was, it only seemed to fade into the shadows behind and around him, almost like it was drawing them closer, masking everything but the glowing red sections of his fur that outlined his shape. His horns grew from the back of his head, reaching around to the golden tips, outlining his jutting jaw line. His body, rippled with muscle visible even through the thick fur, let off an odd scent, almost like animal musk, but more dense, and impossible to ignore. It smelled of lust, but not for passion; the smell was of the lust of battle, of death and war, and the scent of millions of bodies, sweating, bleeding, and dying, only to be trodden into the dirt by those marching behind them.

With a voice like a terrible, thunderous battle cry, he spoke. The great, bellowing sound shook the rafters, knocking loose dust and causing the forest outside to go dead quite, leaving only its own echo in the moments that followed, fading into a silence so absolute, it could only be caused by something unnatural, something entirely unholy, that the world wished it had never known.

"Who... dares... summon... ME?"

This is an example of what my writing is usually like, though my average is about four paragraphs. I am looking for someone who can at least match that, though I won't ask that you always do.

I have a variety of plots in mind, and am open to others if you are not interested in any of the ones I suggest, but would still like to role play with me.

I expect these RPs to be at a mature level. I do not want outright smut, but I do ask that all my partners be at least 18 years of age. Also, I will only RP through PMs here on the RPG, or through an outside messaging system.

The plots:

Servant from Hell: The excerpt shown is the introductory post to this plot. You are a young woman, who recently lost your parents. However, among the things they left you, you find an old book. This book, unbeknownst to you, contains a great deal of arcane knowledge and forbidden secrets. One such bit being a spell to summon and bind a certain demon. That demon is me. The setting is open to suggestion, but a good deal of the plot is already made.

The White Wolves: This world takes place in a semi-futuristic setting, with mana existing as an alternative power source to electricity. There are many types of magic users, but the important thing to know is that laws have recently been passed to enforce the licensing and control of those that naturally produce mana. In order to enforce these laws, an organization known as the White Wolves was created, with the explicit purpose of hunting and killing any rogue mages. You are the newest recruit to this unit, and I am your partner.

The Demon King: In this RP, you are a demon; The last of a mighty empire of unholy beings, come to this world to find the reincarnated form of your defeated master. What you find is a world much different from the one that your master once held sway in, and that your master is a plain, aspiring writer who barely makes a living writing erotic literature.

If there are any questions, comments, or concerns, please post them here.

However, if you are interested in taking part in one of these roleplays, message me directly through a PM. I reply at least once daily, and likely more often than that.

The Realm Beyond

This sounds like fun. Count me in.

Abominations of the Underworld

Well, I quit.

Have fun. I can already tell, this is going to fail.

Abominations of the Underworld

Because, in a game with a variety of basic races, I made a custom race because I wanted to be the only one to use it. There is literally no justification for allowing him to use it, other than a need for more players.

Also, you said in the race section there would be only one. If you haven't already agreed to it, then he's already broken a rule.

I could go on...

Abominations of the Underworld

I am so very not okay with this, it hurts.

Lady B, please tell me you didn't okay this?

Abominations of the Underworld

Let me put on my happy face.

Abominations of the Underworld

Well... this is less than ideal

Abominations of the Underworld

Bugger.... now we're without yet another player.

Shall we continue, or perhaps wait for another to join?