NoriWasHere — Roleplayer Guild

Name:  

Ardur Skor 

Gender:   

Male 

Age:  

 30 

Race:  

Human 

Appearance:  

Ardur stands at a reasonable height of   five foot and eight inches tall with a strong, well-toned muscular build.  He has few scars though none worth noting.  His hair is a light brown color that is kept short and free flowing.  He keeps his beard short as well, keeping it off his neck while maintains a clean look across his jaw lines.  His armor is kept clean, like the rest of him, while his boots are brand new. 

Personality:   

 While on a mission Ardur is the consummate professional.  Clear and concise with his word choices while maintaining a clear head and an outstanding ability to adapt his strategy on the fly.  Outside of combat he is the more approachable of the Skor twins; though his sense of humor, much alike his sister, is still dry and very sarcastic.  While he will talk with Inquisitors and Inquisition soldiers, he never fully commits to the conversation.  He is known to be very intelligent in any circumstances with a keen thirst for knowledge. 

He is willing to do whatever it takes to end the Blight. 

 History:    

Born and raised to a pair of Inquisitor's at the end of their service, Ardur's whole life has been spent with the Inquisition.  From an early age his father would teach both him and his twin swister how to use a sword, even if the lesson was not remembered while his mother took good care that they were read the finer details about the Blight before bed each night.  At the ripe age of seven years old his latent magical abilities surfaced when he was sword fighting with his sister; with him lighting his wooden sword alight on accident.  His father wanted to train the boy himself, as he was magic capable in his own right, but it was decided that Ardurs abilities were far too troublesome to be taught by him.  Immediately he was sent to be trained under the legendary Battlemage Articus Va'ork.   

The training was tough, with Ardur nearly reaching his breaking point numerous times in an effort to fully bring his power under control; eventually succeeding in that aspect.  After learning how to control it, he was taught how to use it (fireballs, flame lashes, flamethrower being just a few of the many applications that he was taught.  During this time his other latent magical ability manifested itself, force magic.  While powerful, it was quickly discovered that his skill with this form of magic was much weaker than his fire so he learned much less.  Once his magical abilities were under control, he began training as a battlemage; learning to use his magic alongside his combat skills.  He stayed and learned from the capable battlemage until he came of age and returned home.  

Since returning home, and passing the trials of the Inquisition, Ardur has run countless missions for the Inquisition and has made a name for himself as a capable, and deadly, fighter.  He has been called the Hero of Akorsa, the Savior of Y'argu, and a host of other titles for his work against both the Blight and the occult forces.  In the past couple years, Ardur and his sister began to work more closely together; combining their skillsets.   

Equipment:  

-Twin Leaftounge Blades – Ardur obtained these weapons from a highly skilled Elven bladesmith for his services saving the smith himself while on his way to a mission.  The craftsman crafted this in a style similar to the ones human soldiers used while keeping the trademarked sharpness of Elvish designs.  Ardur has used these ever since. 

-Plate and chainmail armor 

Magic:  

Fire Magic – Ardur is a very powerful fire mage in his own right.  He knows how to shape his inner magic to form a variety of needs.  He can throw both fireballs and fire spears, with the former exploding on contact while the latter tries to burn its way through the unlucky target.  He is also able to summon a torrent of sticky fire that shoots out of the palm of his hand, covering the target and burning them down.  These are just a few applications of his magic, though they are the most commonly used. 

Force Magic – While not as powerful as his fire magic, Ardur still uses his force magic in combat when needed.  He can use it to grab an item from afar, pull the feet out from under an enemy, and if he concentrates enough he can crush the windpipe of a target; though this requires a lot of stamina.

Name:  

Anora Skor 

Gender:   

Female 

Age:  

30  

Race:  

Human 

Appearance:  

Anora stands at a height of five feet five inches tall with a lean, but still powerful, muscular build.  She has long, flowing hair that falls down just above the midsection of her back.  She has a face that appears to be innocent enough until you catch a glare from her piercing grey eyes.  Her armor, as well as every aspect of her clothing, is very sleek and to the point; with very few fancy frills thrown in.   

Personality:   

Cold, calculating, and brutally honest.  Anora is a woman who has spent her whole life preparing to combat the Blight, and to this end, she views most other pursuits and situations as trivial.  If asked a question, she will respond with brutal honesty without regard for how the truth will be handled.  Despite being distant she has some redeeming qualities.  For one, she is one of the best tactical minds the Inquisition has to offer when to comes to attacking the Blight.  On two occasions she has led small Inquisition teams up against much larger Cultist forces, emerging victorious each time without a soldier lost.  Another quality she owns is her commitment to both the Inquisition and her soldiers.  She will often volunteer her service to help train up soldiers, help someone understand complex problems, and will even go the extra mile if it meant the Inquisition was better off because of it. 

Anora will see the goal of the Inquisition through, no matter the cost. 

 History:    

Anora, and her twin brother Ardur were born to legendary Inquisitors at the end of their service before they transitioned into a role on the council.  For as long as she could remember, she always had either a sword or a book in her hand and a story about the Blight in her ear.  She remembers vividly when her brother was taken away to better train his magical abilities; mostly because her parents doubled down on her training as a result.  Each day brought a new lesson that ranged from simple unit tactics all the way down to the weak spots on every blight monster encountered, how to vanquish the occult forces in a quick manner.  Each day also brought a new weapon to train with, with Anora quickly gravitating towards the polearm and long spears.   

After coming of age, she quickly rose through the Inquisitions ranks and in near record time became an Inquisitor.  Soon after she began to make a name for herself as a masterful tactician by leading Inquisitor soldiers to dangerous combat situation with every soul making it out alive.  From assaulting the cultist stronghold at the Mire through defeating the occasional Occult monster that slipped into our realm from the void.  After news of the City of Ash;s destruction, the Inquisitor Council voted and selected Anora as the lead Inquisitor to lead their forces into battle 

Equipment:  

-Reign- Reign is the name given to the polearm she wields in combat.  She was commissioned by Anora from the craftsmen of the Inquisition for her use and to this day, its Reign of terror against the monsters is unheralded.   

-Steel longsword – Anora has a simple, but proven, steel longsword in a sheath attached to her right hip in case she loses her polearm.   

-Plate armor overtop chainmail

An Inquisitors Story: The City of Ash and Decay

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 Blight War 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 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, but the stories are still remembered, albeit seldom spoken in whole, by the bards, and by the elders.  They spin a tale of rotting corpses stumbling through the countryside, whole villages being abducted and transformed into monsters, and the near defeat of the living at the hands of plaque.  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 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 blight, 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 Blight 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. "This is a story of heroes, who did not know they were such at the time, who came together and saved all life as we know it. They came from all walks of life, some of noble pursuits and some not, that threw their past grievances behind themselves for a common cause.  The war was terrible in all accounts, but I will start my story off at where It all started, right here in the city of Ash, three hundred and seventeen years ago; though the city went by a different name back then.  The city of Athenvu, under the steadfast watch of her king, was a prosperous trading town that was turned to ruin, " the old man paused as his head tilted to the left, "that was home to," pausing again, this time standing up, "what is that ruckus?," the old man stopped speaking as he rose to his feet. 

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 now, 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 as 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 the next day. And to this day, nobody knows of what befell the people that day.

Though this did not go unnoticed; almost immediately after hearing the fate of the City did the Council of the Combined races hold an emergency meeting where it was decided that an Inquisitor unit was to be set out to investigate what happened there.

The Inquisition has been summoned.

The cobblestone surface of the Grand Road heaved with exhaustion as the strain of bearing the weight of the full might of the mortal races began to take its toll on its surface.  All across its many mile lengths, cracks formed that ran the width of the road, while potholes and ruined sections threatened to swallow the unlucky, and unknowing, soldier whole.  The Grand Road found itself in a state of disrepair once thought impossible, with many villagers weeping tears at the sight of its misery. Damaged as it may be, the villagers were not sad.  Through the roads surface was now cracked and its formerly leveled surfaces, they watched on it pride.  The soldiers happy.  The soldiers that trampled it, the carts that crushed it, and the horses that defaced it were not some random unit that marched towards a pointless war; no, these soldiers had a divine purpose and this road was going to see them to their destination, whether or not it made it out intact. 

All along the mighty road marched the Inquisition.  Soldiers from every army and every race marched side by side for the first time in modern history.  All hatred was thrown by the wayside under a common goal, survival.  The Elves normally would never catch themselves in a formation with Dwarves in it, while the Dwarves themselves did not scoff of the notion of fighting side by side with the goblins, who needed little convincing to work with their hated big cousins the Orcs, that did not hesitate to follow the humans, and so on.  They all knew what was coming.  They knew better than to face the darkness alone.  Stories passed down through the generations told of a dark and evil time, where monstrous enemies crashed over the mortal races and nearly drowned them under their might.  

The soldiers of the Inquisition marched together towards the Darkness, all ten thousand strong, led in front by the Inquisitor Vanguard.  The Vanguard was already a full day's march ahead of the main body and was gaining ground.  The prized unit of the Council of the Combined races, the forces of the Inquisition proper were clad in the best armor that could be made and boasted some of the most combat ready soldiers in the realm.  A mere hour away from the City of Ash, and as the sun above began to set, the Inquisitors brought their forces to a halt as the lead Inquisitor Anora called for a scouting party; asking for volunteers.  

You couldn't help but respond first.  A hunger deep inside of you burned to face the age-old enemy.  While many others volunteered, and they all did, you were selected to find the first trace of the Blight under the lead of Ardur, the battle-tested and powerful battlemage whose legend was rightfully earned.  The age of heroes is coming to a close as darkness spreads all around; the age of the Inquisition has arrived. 

Our story

Our story starts as we advance on the City of Ash as the first soldiers in on a scouting mission.  Our goal is to identify where the enemy has their forces, pull back, and join the final assault on the city after the mortal races and their armies finish their envelopment of the city and the surrounding area.  We come from a variety of different races with many different skill sets, however, we are all Inquisitors.  Some of you may know each other quite well, while some you may have only heard of in passing, yet you are ready to face the darkness side by side to the end if needed.  We fight so the world so the world will never see the horrors of the Blight again.  If we do our job, we will see the light prevail and the darkness forever banished to the hell it crawled out of.

Rules

1.) No controlling another players character in any shape or form.  Pretty standard but it has to be said.
2.) Combat is usually free form, meaning that you can write your character killing most enemies.  Sometimes I will throw out specific or special enemies that you can not kill so simply.  We can either write a collab post or possibly roll a dice to determine the success of the fight and/or action.
3.) Stupid decisions can lead to bad results.  Don't charge at the enemey alone.
4.) Our Inquisition has a rule about blue cloaks, make sure it is posted in your CS Equipment section so I know you have read this.
5.) No arguing in the OOC, take it to a PM or to discord. 
6.)Have fun!

How magic works in this RP

Magic works on a similar system to that of strength in this RP in the sense that the more training one has the more powerful they can become; and on the same note, there are rare prodigies that are naturally good.  The magical talent would reveal itself to the mage at a young age in a way that is reminiscent of their magic.  A fire mage would create sparks or accidentally burn something while a force mage would levitate something.  Early on the power of the mage would be highly unstable so, by law, they are either sent to their nations magic school or to the Inquisition for training.

Magic use drains stamina.  Prolonged use of magic in a short period of time will tire out the mage much like a warrior in battle.  Furthermore, over-casting is a real problem that mages are taught to avoid.  A mage can break through the exhaustion and keep using the magic but it comes with the aforementioned risk of over-casting.  Over-casting is a fatal condition where the magic of the user consumes them, often detonating in a grim explosion in relation to their power (a fire mage would be consumed by flames, a force mage would be crushed into the ground, and so on and so forth).

Over two-hundred years ago, their realm was beset by a plague of violence unlike anything seen before it.  In the course of just a few years, numerous villages and cities were razed to the ground with nary a soul to survive the horrors they witnessed.  In the dark shadows of the night, monsters leaped out at travelers and dragged them off to fates worse than death and returned to their posts waiting for the next unlucky souls to cross their sights.  These monsters are very well known today as the evil found within all mortal races.  Humans waged war after war with anyone who had anything of value to them, the Elves guarded their sacred forests with a rabid intensity, while the other races did one horrible thing after the next. Countless lives were lost during this time, later known as the Days of Suffering, and much more witnessed the depravity of the mortal condition.   

All this pain, suffering, and evil called out to the darkness; and he answered their prayers.   

Not much is known about where the beast came from, however, in the City of Athenvu he arrived with a thunderous strike.  From the woods that surrounded it, his horde descended on the walls of the city.  The defenders fought them on the walls, through the streets, up the grand stairs, all-over the Chieftain's hall and finally in the depths of the cave network; though they were swept aside like a young boy who challenged his combat trainers to single combat.  While this instance proved to be the turning point in the Blight War, it was not its first battle nor were the defenders of the city the war first casualties.   

The Blight War started off as something else entirely.  It started as hushed whispers spoken by the commoners who noticed something the leaders did not.  They told stories of empty villages with no signs of a battle or an escape; with clothes drying on their lines while weapons and traveling gear neatly tucked aside. In private they spoke of ghostly figures stalking their caravans in the forests, of sunken black eyes watching from afar.  Fearing a monstrous presence, the commoners all over began to report their fears to the various different militaries to investigate.  They would not.  Instead, the captains and the commanders spoke of their true enemy that is trying to instill fear in the populace; the Orcs, the Elves, and numerous others depending on where you were located of course. 

The commanders, generals, and every other person in some position of power assumed this was the public fear of the numerous wars being fought.  They assumed that the boogeyman in the night the public thought so real were all stories.  If only they were paid attention.  As they focused their attention on the war more and more villagers disappeared. And it spread.  Human, Orc, Elven, Dwarven, and every other race soon found themselves dealing with this evil.  In a sense, the destruction of the city of Althenvu spurred forth the cooperation that eventually saved the realm from the darkness.  While reluctant to toss aside past grievances, the many militaries soon found themselves forced to work together to fight the Blight Monsters. 

It took two years of constant bloodshed before the combined races forced the dark beast, now called Fuin, into an epic final confrontation where the combined races found themselves victorious and Fuin killed by a human soldier named Rora.  With his death, his Blight Monsters succumbed to their darkness and fell to the earth below dead.  Without their master, they could not survive.  To this day there is much debate as to how Rora killed Fuin, with the most widely held belief that Rora simply got lucky.  That is the modern interpretation of what was recorded however and not what the historians and Inquisitors understand.  The stories clearly state that a miracle happened in the fields of that battle; with the Gods themselves having pity on our plight.  They gifted Rora a mighty spear imbued with the magic of the heavens above that pierced the twisted hide of Fuin; a spear that mysteriously vanished as the battle ended.  To this day one of leading goals of the Inquisition is to figure out two things; where the spear is and how to create a weapon of similar strength.   

The aftermath of the Blight War saw a new era come to light.  While many cities were destroyed, they were rebuilt.  Stones sourced from Dwarven mines rebuilt walls and buildings with labor supplied by the Orcs and Humans, among other races.  The Elves opened their sacred Healing Forests to those whose minds were twisted by the sights from the war, healing their affliction and sending them back out to repair the world.  Food was donated by farmers of every race.  In a matter of years, the world was rebuilt. 

The leading rulers came together in the centralized human city of Firen and established the Council of the Combined races to continue the improved relations between everyone as well as prevent future Blight Wars.  To achieve this goal, the Council brought together the best warriors of every military and formed the Inquisition and tasked them with studying the remnants of the Blight as well as search out and preventing future ones.

The Inquisition is an order that dates back to the end of the Blight war that has searched out and destroy signs of the Blight. They are highly trained in many different areas, from combat to the Blight itself and its signs, and the sight of them in an area usually brings a sense of fear in the local populace. Since their foundation, no major Blight outbreak has occurred since the end of the war.  Their history is steeped in tradition, with many generations of Inquisitors filling many parts of their many ranks. 

The Inquisition has a thousand capable fighters at its disposal with most being trained from birth while others are donated to the cause by numerous armies.  They are led by the Inquisitors themselves when they travel out in the world.  The soldiers wear effective plate-mail armor overtop their chain-mail while adopting long spears and various other polearms as their primary weapons.  The Inquisition soldiers form the basic level of the Inquisitions fighting force.  Everyone who aspires to be an Inquisitor must start first as a soldier.  Through training and study, especially studies related to the Blight and the monsters it created, they can eventually maneuver themselves up the ladder and don the title of Inquisitor 

Inquisitors themselves are a much rarer force that numbers just in the two-hundred range.  They are well versed on the history of the Blight War, the Blight itself, and on the ways to overcome the Blight Monsters in combat.  They are inquisitive by nature, seeking answers to the problems caused by the Blight as well as other forms of Demonic, and occasionally occult, forces.  When travelling, an Inquisitor can select whatever armor choice suits them best but no matter where they travel they wear their light blue cloaks with the insignia of the Inquisition on the back; the white sun. 

After reaching an age where their physical prowess starts to slow, they transition themselves onto the Inquisition council or into the roles of the teachers and trainers that will serve the future generations of warriors; with the former reserved for particularly note-worthy individuals.  The Inquisition council has broad authority, granted to them by the Council of the Combined Races, to send out Inquisitors to investigate the Blight; though for their full force to be sent an approval from the Council of Combined Races is needed.

The Blight was a demonic magic-induced affliction that ravaged the countryside during the Blight War.  A corrupting magic, the Blight transformed the host living creature from within; corrupting and twisting both their minds and their bodies to serve Fuin.  The affliction took only a few days from contact with the afflicted person suffering great pain throughout the transformation.   Though from recorded encounters and official studies on the matter, it was discovered that the transformed creatures often had subtle variations that intrigued the Inquisitors.   

One of the most important tasks that an Inquisitor has is identifying the Blight and it is not difficult.  Within hours of contracting the foul plague, the unlucky individual will often wail in pain as their bodies are twisted apart by the magic.  Hair loss, teeth falling out, and a pale complexion are all signs of the early stage of the infection.  After another few hours, the individual will often be subjected to a series of painful readjustments of their bone; causing their back to adopt a slight hunchback and their stature shortened.  Finally, with the final stage of infection, the eyes of the individual undergoing the least painful but most visually startling to witness.  Their eyes quickly lose their white color and are instead replaced with the dark black color of evil itself, with thin wispy vine-like lines protruding out and across their eyes sockets down their cheeks.  At this point, some strong souls can still try and resist the call of Furin but resist it they cannot. 

While the total time varies with each inflection, the generally accepted amount of time it takes for the infection to run its course is within a day.  It is for this reason the Blight went unnoticed for so long initially.  Furin guided his initially small forces towards simple targets like villages and caravans, dragging their populace back to their hidden lairs, and subjecting them to the Blight.  Generally, it is believed that the creatures operate under a 'hive' mentality and respond to situations accordingly.

Though even in the prolonged battles that took place, the Blight Monsters never truely sought to kill.  Only to transform.

Another curious aspect of the Blight is how the transformations varied from one individual to the next.  The most commonly encountered Blight Monster is commonly referred to as a 'Skinnui'.  They range in height between five feet tall and five foot five inches, with the trademark pale and sickly looking skin and body.  Their heads are always void of any trace of hair, with sharp fang looking teeth slightly protruding out from their mouths.  Their sunken eye sockets and black colored eyes and surrounding areas give them a sadistic look.  Any clothing or armor worn during the transformation is still present on their bodies, though it has been recorded that the longer the monster lives the more tattered and destroyed the clothes appear.   

Another recorded variation is dubbed the 'scar guards' for the thick layers of scar tissue that have formed on their forearms and arms.  Though the process by which these creatures obtain their scar tissue, the intent behind them remains perfectly clear.  Reported as strong as well-made leather armor, the scar tissue can withstand most strikes with one-handed swords. 

There are also countless other variations that range from as simple to some being as small as children all the way to the intense and terrifying Scarui (a monster that is reportedly taller than the tallest man), they are far too limited to know everything about them and as such their records are scarce.

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