I kind of want to throw some cannon fodder at Malakaus unless someone else wants to do the honor :) *nudge *nudge
Polybius Member
Rhymer
- Last Seen: 11 days ago
- Joined: 8 yrs ago
- Posts: 1020 (0.34 / day)
- VMs: 1
-
Username history
- Polybius 8 yrs ago
-
Latest 10 profile visitors:
-
Most recent →
Bugman,
Ladypug,
Milkman,
Vampiretwilight
Status
Recent Statuses
5 yrs ago
Hello guild my old friend :)
3
likes
7 yrs ago
The nostalgia is fierce tonight...so many ideas. Where did the time go? roleplayerguild.com/topics/…
1
like
7 yrs ago
The Archive is Activated
7 yrs ago
Guild issues making it difficult to post. Will update when the server errors stop.
3
likes
7 yrs ago
To Teluval, Farewell . A surreal fantasy adventure: roleplayerguild.com/topics/1..
Bio
Writing Blog: Notebooks
Most Recent Posts
The woman, Lady Elliot, seemed so genuine in her affectations. The name Elliot was not familiar to Maren but she had certainly heard of the fire-dragon cults. Maren was slightly annoyed at the 'knights' insistence on leading men out into the chaos of the night. But Maren could see this woman was clearly eager to fight.
"You are a very brave woman to ask such a thing, Lady Elliot," said Maren coldly. "And you are not a knight..." She thought for a moment. "But it is true I need good fighters. So does this city. Help defend the walls, if it comes to that Lady Elliot. For we do not know what threats await us in the morning. Do that and I will take you into my service. 10 silver a month, plus food and lodging. Cassius will be your commander. That is my offer. Take it as you will."
Maren turned once more to view the battle unfolding on the banks of the fire-fens.
"You are a very brave woman to ask such a thing, Lady Elliot," said Maren coldly. "And you are not a knight..." She thought for a moment. "But it is true I need good fighters. So does this city. Help defend the walls, if it comes to that Lady Elliot. For we do not know what threats await us in the morning. Do that and I will take you into my service. 10 silver a month, plus food and lodging. Cassius will be your commander. That is my offer. Take it as you will."
Maren turned once more to view the battle unfolding on the banks of the fire-fens.
Post for Maren is up. I'll be around for another hour or two.
EDIT: Quick mention about art. If anyone has art for there character or a location that's cool. Try and keep with the fine-art fantasy style of Maren's portrait in the first post!
EDIT: Quick mention about art. If anyone has art for there character or a location that's cool. Try and keep with the fine-art fantasy style of Maren's portrait in the first post!
At last darkness had fallen and the somber night sky was filled with stars. The purple moon rose swiftly, and a sliver of it's own full self this time of year. A streak of light fell to the ground to the north. A fallen star? thought Maren. Another streak of light, fiery and red.It is far to late into the fall for the star-showers... she thought worriedly. Then hundreds of fires filled the night and Maren heard the war calls of orcish riders.
She stood mouth slightly agape as the mercenary camp was beset by the nomadic warriors. She heard the screams and cries of battle, carried easily over the fire-fens. From the North Bridge Garrison came the warning bell.
"What is going on Cassius?" said Maren. She looked to Cassius to see his reaction.
"Hello there! Lady Maren and Captain Cassius, correct? I am Annabeth Elliot, a knight errant. It looks like the tide of battle has shifted to our favor! We should sally out and route these brigands while they're still a chance."
Maren turned to see who had addressed her and posed such an outrageous thing. Who is this woman so eager to shed blood in a battle we cannot yet understand? thought Maren.
"The gods peace upon you Lady Elliot," said Maren warily. Her attention returned to the battle on the north bank for a moment. It seemed to be going poorly for the Karsusian mercenaries, and for a moment Maren felt relief. The thought of an orcish army at the gate was a different matter entirely...
Maren turned her attention once more to Lady Elliot. Maren forced a smile. The warrior held an impressive Warhammer. Maren did not doubt the woman could wield such a powerful weapon and instinctively reach into her robes and gripped the pommel of her shortsword concealed there. "Forgive me, but who are you? I do not recognize your name nor standard. What is your business here?"
The sounds of battle continued beyond the wall...
She stood mouth slightly agape as the mercenary camp was beset by the nomadic warriors. She heard the screams and cries of battle, carried easily over the fire-fens. From the North Bridge Garrison came the warning bell.
"What is going on Cassius?" said Maren. She looked to Cassius to see his reaction.
"Hello there! Lady Maren and Captain Cassius, correct? I am Annabeth Elliot, a knight errant. It looks like the tide of battle has shifted to our favor! We should sally out and route these brigands while they're still a chance."
Maren turned to see who had addressed her and posed such an outrageous thing. Who is this woman so eager to shed blood in a battle we cannot yet understand? thought Maren.
"The gods peace upon you Lady Elliot," said Maren warily. Her attention returned to the battle on the north bank for a moment. It seemed to be going poorly for the Karsusian mercenaries, and for a moment Maren felt relief. The thought of an orcish army at the gate was a different matter entirely...
Maren turned her attention once more to Lady Elliot. Maren forced a smile. The warrior held an impressive Warhammer. Maren did not doubt the woman could wield such a powerful weapon and instinctively reach into her robes and gripped the pommel of her shortsword concealed there. "Forgive me, but who are you? I do not recognize your name nor standard. What is your business here?"
The sounds of battle continued beyond the wall...
A lot to unpack in the last post :) reply from Maren coming tomorrow. Meanwhile. What of the townsfolk? Maybe someone in the Karkusian camp? Feel free to do a one off-post to give the story a different perspective. You guys are killing it!
Heeeeey welcome. Thanks for joining the RP! I think we're off to a good start here. I try and follow the rule of 'yes and...' when improvising a roleplay. It will all probably fall apart eventually but at least we are writing!
Adrenaline coursed through Oyargs black veins. The smell of fire and the sweat of his mount, a hairy bristle-back boar from the Tartarus Mountains filled his nostrils. Down the steep embankment of the marshy fen, tumbled rider and mount. Oyarg screamed with fanatical triumph as he plunged his heavy spear into a man and the beast trampled the body underfoot.
Already the fires were spreading through the camp. His master, Malakaus, although not pure of blood, was a clever one. But Malakaus liked to fight. He did not cower in caves, hoping to raid some meager caravan or farm. Malakaus led his men to battles wherever they were to be found. And Oyarg loved, no, lived to fight. Some thought his master foolish to split his forces when opposing a larger army, but the fire arrows had distracted the Karsusians; a mistake that would cost them their lives.
Oyarg did not care for tactics or politics. He was a grunt. A true soldier of the orc kind. He lived to follow orders, and to kill and to die. And Malakaus demanded blood this night.
The orc charged through the Karsusians line, screaming and thrusting his spear. Men half-dressed, drunk and barely armed fell before his blade and beneath the tusks of his boar. Oyarg laughed as he killed and wrecked havoc on the scattering mercenary army. His companions had fallen behind. He was leading the charge. He looked behind him to see a dozen men swarming the vanguard of the charge. Oyarg was alone.
Pathetic. Thought Oyarg as he thrust his spear into the face of a fleeing man-kind. The spear stuck, and Oyarg cursed as his gnarled fingers lost their grip. The heavy spear was left behind as Oyarg careened into a heavy black tent. Canvas tangled his mounts hooves and tusks and the boar faltered. Oyarg saw only darkness, the tent entangling him. He could feel his mount thrashing wildly as he reached for the machete on his hip. The sounds of battle were drowned out for a moment, and then :
A sharp pain in his side forced a gasp from his frothing lips. Another. The pain only enraged him as he flailed wildly, machete in hand cutting canvas and flesh. Light from the fire-fens fell through a tear and Oyarg fought his way out. Spears and swords in the hands of men fell, cutting and slashing Oyargs flesh to ribbons. Blood mixed with dirt and Oyarg fell, dead, smiling.
Already the fires were spreading through the camp. His master, Malakaus, although not pure of blood, was a clever one. But Malakaus liked to fight. He did not cower in caves, hoping to raid some meager caravan or farm. Malakaus led his men to battles wherever they were to be found. And Oyarg loved, no, lived to fight. Some thought his master foolish to split his forces when opposing a larger army, but the fire arrows had distracted the Karsusians; a mistake that would cost them their lives.
Oyarg did not care for tactics or politics. He was a grunt. A true soldier of the orc kind. He lived to follow orders, and to kill and to die. And Malakaus demanded blood this night.
The orc charged through the Karsusians line, screaming and thrusting his spear. Men half-dressed, drunk and barely armed fell before his blade and beneath the tusks of his boar. Oyarg laughed as he killed and wrecked havoc on the scattering mercenary army. His companions had fallen behind. He was leading the charge. He looked behind him to see a dozen men swarming the vanguard of the charge. Oyarg was alone.
Pathetic. Thought Oyarg as he thrust his spear into the face of a fleeing man-kind. The spear stuck, and Oyarg cursed as his gnarled fingers lost their grip. The heavy spear was left behind as Oyarg careened into a heavy black tent. Canvas tangled his mounts hooves and tusks and the boar faltered. Oyarg saw only darkness, the tent entangling him. He could feel his mount thrashing wildly as he reached for the machete on his hip. The sounds of battle were drowned out for a moment, and then :
A sharp pain in his side forced a gasp from his frothing lips. Another. The pain only enraged him as he flailed wildly, machete in hand cutting canvas and flesh. Light from the fire-fens fell through a tear and Oyarg fought his way out. Spears and swords in the hands of men fell, cutting and slashing Oyargs flesh to ribbons. Blood mixed with dirt and Oyarg fell, dead, smiling.
Maren studied the sellswords' face. She found a thin smile, and weary eyes. Cassius had barely been in her service a month and now she had led them both to there probable deaths in the city of bridges. But in that time, Cassius, and the dozen or so men of his hired company had been well taken care of...the people of Tamberle were sympathetic to her cause, and the city was wealthy. The soldiers ate and drank their fill from the city coffers. The people of Tamberle were as much at risk as Maren's own small rebellion and were gracious in their hospitality.
"It's not my intent to let them have you without a good fight, milady,"
Could she trust his loyalty? Or would he and his men run once the situation seemed hopeless?
"I do not doubt that, Cassius," said Maren turning away from the walls to look upon the city. "I doubt any quarter will be given to this city, however. These men are mercenaries from Karsus, hired by my brother. They are not trained soldiers. They are looters. Bandits given royal sanction. This city will burn if they breach the walls."
And I am the cause of all this, thought Maren. For a moment, she doubted herself. Her brother had taken the crown that was rightfully hers. She was the eldest, after all. Fled the city with a handful of loyal men and women. That seemed ages ago. She had no choice, really. She would have been imprisoned, or worse. It wounded Maren's heart to think her brother Mago would be capable of such crimes, but here they were.
What would father think? Son and daughter tearing apart the kingdom like this?
The city was quiet now, as the moon rose above the eastern walls. A few lightly armored city guard patrolled the streets, lighting braziers and torches. The money-houses and merchants guilds were quiet. Even the inns and taverns seemed somber this night. The people well knew what would come in the morning.
"Cassius. I know you will fight. That is what I hired you and your men to do. I do not expect the Karsusians to breach the walls tomorrow. They are not organized enough to take this city that quickly, but once they do..." Maren looked down at her kerchief. The embroidered silk scented with oils from distant lands could buy a commoners food for an entire season. She balled the cloth up and tucked it into Cassius' breastplate.
"Keep me alive Cassius. Do that and you and your men will be well rewarded," said Maren.
"It's not my intent to let them have you without a good fight, milady,"
Could she trust his loyalty? Or would he and his men run once the situation seemed hopeless?
"I do not doubt that, Cassius," said Maren turning away from the walls to look upon the city. "I doubt any quarter will be given to this city, however. These men are mercenaries from Karsus, hired by my brother. They are not trained soldiers. They are looters. Bandits given royal sanction. This city will burn if they breach the walls."
And I am the cause of all this, thought Maren. For a moment, she doubted herself. Her brother had taken the crown that was rightfully hers. She was the eldest, after all. Fled the city with a handful of loyal men and women. That seemed ages ago. She had no choice, really. She would have been imprisoned, or worse. It wounded Maren's heart to think her brother Mago would be capable of such crimes, but here they were.
What would father think? Son and daughter tearing apart the kingdom like this?
The city was quiet now, as the moon rose above the eastern walls. A few lightly armored city guard patrolled the streets, lighting braziers and torches. The money-houses and merchants guilds were quiet. Even the inns and taverns seemed somber this night. The people well knew what would come in the morning.
"Cassius. I know you will fight. That is what I hired you and your men to do. I do not expect the Karsusians to breach the walls tomorrow. They are not organized enough to take this city that quickly, but once they do..." Maren looked down at her kerchief. The embroidered silk scented with oils from distant lands could buy a commoners food for an entire season. She balled the cloth up and tucked it into Cassius' breastplate.
"Keep me alive Cassius. Do that and you and your men will be well rewarded," said Maren.
Player Characters
Locations
The Fire-Fens
a fetid marsh stretching for hundreds of miles on the southern shores of the Kingdom of Erlad. Known for the fires that burn continuously fueled by deep pockets of gas or perhaps something more sinister...
Tamberle the city of bridges
An ancient trading port at the souther tip of the Kingdom of Erlad. Surrounded by the dangerous marsh known as the fire-fens and accessible only by bridge or boat.
- North Bridge Garrison
heavily defended main gate to Tamberle
The Siege of Tamberle
Welcome! This is a true Jump-In roleplay and I invite you all to join in! I have a vague idea about the world and character I want to play and that's about it! Anyone can join. I only ask you respect the rules of the guild and acknowledge the other players. I will play Maren, a noble with some claim to the throne of the kingdom of Erlad. This is a true free-roleplay in that you can create a character and start posting without GM approval! The idea is to get the RP rolling and see what happens. Think of it as improvisation with some minor guidelines. Just keep within the general outline of the RP and everything should be all good. I've written just a quick paragraph below to create the setting and scene. The obvious jump-in character would be Maren's bodyguard, but you could create any character that fits with the setting. Let's write!
Maren walked along the stone causeway, holding a lavender scented kerchief to her nose and mouth. Still the stink of the fire-fens found her nostrils, and made her stomach churn. Flames, blue and green spouted randomly from the muddy marsh that surrounded the city of Tamberle. Behind Maren walked a soldier, wearing light armor and a sword on his hip. Shadows flickered across the many stone bridges leading from the city to dry land.
To the north, an army camped on a grassy embankment jutting into the brackish water. In the twilight of the day the cook fires were lost among the spouting flames of the marsh. But Maren could hear the war-songs of the mercenaries come to kill her and it chilled the bones of her slim frame. She paused, leaning against the ancient stone parapet. She was not sure if it was the fumes of the marsh or the impending invasion of the city that had knotted her stomach.
“We’re all going to die here,” she said. She looked at her bodyguard. He was observing the camped army, and turned to meet her gaze.
To the north, an army camped on a grassy embankment jutting into the brackish water. In the twilight of the day the cook fires were lost among the spouting flames of the marsh. But Maren could hear the war-songs of the mercenaries come to kill her and it chilled the bones of her slim frame. She paused, leaning against the ancient stone parapet. She was not sure if it was the fumes of the marsh or the impending invasion of the city that had knotted her stomach.
“We’re all going to die here,” she said. She looked at her bodyguard. He was observing the camped army, and turned to meet her gaze.
© 2007-2024