POOHEAD189

The Hourglass Order

If I get less busy soon, this looks awesome

Elder Scrolls: Wrath of Akatosh (Interest Check)

"I've served the Nine all my days, and I chart my course by the cycles of the heavens. The skies are marked with numberless sparks, each a fire, and every one a sign."

-Uriel Septim VII, The Last Dragon Emperor of Cyrodiil

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You Have Been Chosen...

Let's start the new year off with a bang, shall we? Welcome to Wrath of Akatosh! Have you heard of the critically acclaimed game known as Skyrim? Well fuck Skyrim, this is an Oblivion Roleplay. That's right, we are in the tail years of the 3rd Era, where the demonic Daedra have begun opening Oblivion Portals all across Tamriel to invade the mortal plane at the behest of a shadowy enemy. You play as one of Akatosh's chosen, who have received divine visions from the first and greatest god to form a group that will save the continent from damnation...and decide its fate afterwards. Who among you who enter this thread wish to decide the fate of nations and become slayer of demons? Has Akatosh called you forward as one of his chosen...?

Blades of the Blood Coast

@Fetzen@DrRtron@Lucius Cypher

Very well then, my friends. I suppose I will end this roleplay. However, this is not the last of my universe that you will see, and if you ever wish to use your characters again, you are most welcome in whatever roleplay on Maroleth I make next. Likely one after Elder Scrolls.

I also want to point out that all of you are great writers. Can't wait to write more in the future!

a! (AKA, "I Heard You Like Shrimp")

Hello and welcome!

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

Neil threw the last sack of coffee onto the cart, slapping his hands together and exhaling into the crisp, cool air. The last few weeks hadn't necessarily been what he would call exciting, but it wasn't so bad every now and then. Semi-honest work and some good R&R were probably best for the crew, considering they were on the way to what was likely a suicide mission for Taya.

Their initial contact with the theologically inclined locals had been touch and go at first. The galaxy wasn't short of religious thought. The fact the universe existed on set principals of science when all could be chaos, or the fact existence at all was happening made many think there had to be a creator or catalyst beyond what current understanding could comprehend. Neil had heard many theories on his travels, particularly working at the space station with Sven. But he had never been on a planet of people who were so universally dogmatic.

It was really hard not to fuck with them, even if only a little bit.

"Brother Gerome," Neil started. The clergyman (if he even was a true one) halted in his tracks and turned to the group again. All the younger men watched intently. "I have a question about the faith."

"I'm always ready to help enlighten those who are curious," he said with a smile. He was wilier than his groupies, Neil could tell just by looking at him, so he wouldn't go too hard. "What is the question, friend?"

Neil gestured toward the Hexanagallion. "I was wondering about the fate of my good friend Saxon here. Where do Xenos fit in the Fellowship of Man?" Neil hid his smile like a champ. "He seems very interested in what he's been hearing but he was a bit shy to say."

"Neil!" Taya whispered as loud as she dared even while Sayeeda put a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. Neil didn't bother looking at Saxon, imagining the hulking brute's mandibles curling in anger. Brother Gerome's followers looked to one another and some even appeared threatening, thinking Neil was mocking them. They weren't far from the truth, but Brother Gerome took it in stride as Neil thought he would. The white sun gave a pale gleam to his shirt as he raised his hands.

"It depends on the sect, of course. Some believe man was made in God's image..." he remarked. It was a problem with many human religions. Or to say, not the religion itself, but how men viewed them throughout history. 'Man' was still so commonly used despite an extremely biodiverse galaxy. "However, all who follow the divine creator are welcomed here as brother's and sisters on Ateran. You, your Captain, the young woman, and even your big friend here are all welcome if you wish to stay."

"Hear that Saxon? There's hope yet."

Sayeeda had to place a hand on the Hexa's chest to keep him from walking over and throttling the pilot.

Blades of the Blood Coast

So, whilst it is certainly, partially my fault, I'm at a crossroads. If I gave another update, would people be onboard and johnny-on-the-spot ready to leap back into this RP, or should I focus on my next RP idea I have on my 'to do' list and let this one go?

My next one is going to be big, and it'll be in an Elder Scrolls setting btw. But if people are legitimately interested in this one, I will continue it.

Kingmakers: The Throne Alone (A Medieval Fantasy Succession Crisis)

Karl approaching Torm like

Kingmakers: The Throne Alone (A Medieval Fantasy Succession Crisis)

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At the head of the service stood a solitary figure, clad in battle raiment save for a windswept cloak that clung to his broad shoulders. He looked fit for a painting, his face was set in a grim countenance, a thoughtful light far behind his eyes of grey iron. The king had been mad as a rabid dog, Torm had seen the lack of sanity first hand. But he was still his liege, and with the passing of The Prince as well, it was not difficult to spend minutes regretting the events that led to this occasion. He'd learned how to mourn long ago.

Anyamara and Sharles both gave their eulogies, though Torm didn't really watch to see who gave more regret over the deaths of the royal family. Politics would come later. Though Sharles nervousness didn't escape him. Even now he felt his father's voice at his heels, tugging at his heart whilst his honor counterbalanced the evil thoughts dwelling within.

Behind him he could hear whispers, drawing him out of his reverie. Faint murmurs of what he assumed were upstart malcontents smelling blood in the water, and he turned. Not with his entire body, but he did not hide his wintry gaze. He could win a maiden's heart with a smile, but his glare promised a duel of iron swords. He wasn't so cynical or bullheaded that he thought all manner of stately discussion was made with forked teeth, but there was a time and a place. The service was mercifully concluded shortly after, the dukes and barons howling once again. Garthon the Venerable placed his hand on Torm's shoulder, the old master-at-arms locking gazes for a moment with him before they both smiled.

"How about a drink to warm the bones?" He offered the Wolf, his voice like grinding stone. Nearly seventy winters and he still had the strength of a knight in him. Torm trusted no one more, except maybe his horse. The man had practically raised the Archduke. For his part, Torm placed his hand on the elder's and shook his head, glancing at his lieutenant. Einon the Tall was already eyeing up every lass with long legs and longer lashes in the crowd.

"I need to bandy words with my...peers." Torm said, regret evident. He gestured toward Einon with his head. "Get a drink with that one, and make sure he doesn't go after a woman that could have him hanged."

"No promises," Garthon replied, and he pushed Einon with one meaty hand. "Come on, boy. Don't make me whip ye in front of all the lords n' ladies."

Torm gave a laugh showing his teeth. It showed how young and full of life he was, when the stern facade faded. He wanted to find Sir Jorin Longwall, probably the man he respected the most and knew the best in the entire city. But as it were the man was likely busy with his duties, and so he would instead find another Archduke or Baron he wasn't entirely acquainted with. It would do to engage and see who among the two claimants was more widely favored, and he wanted to see who outside his realm he could potentially trust, no matter the outcome.

Hider

Torm stands up front, disapproving the scheming behind him while lost in his own thoughts. He dismisses his two retainers to find those he could speak with, if nothing more than for appearance sake.

Kingmakers: The Throne Alone (A Medieval Fantasy Succession Crisis)

Gonna post tonite lads and lasses. Clutch your pearls and gird your loins.

A pleasure to make your acquaintance.

Welcome to the site!