Sarpedon — Roleplayer Guild

'Sup everyone? I've been away for a bit, just got back, looking for rp partners. I'm down for fantasy or sci-fi, but I could be convinced to try just about anything, I suppose. the idea here is to establish a solid relationship with people who aren't going to run off on me, so I want YOU to pitch me your idea, and we'll give it a shot. And if things work out, we can try brainstorming more stuff. I'm willing to put the work in if you are, right now I just can't be bothered to invest in people who usually drop within a week. If things are the same around here, I'll find just one of you. So PM me your interest, PM your ideas. I like PMs they are nice and neat, but we'll do threads if it makes you happy. just make sure you PM me first, I'm turrible at checking threads. If you don't PM me, I won't guarantee anything.

Gram was rather excited when he thought he heard something getting close. He didn't know how long he had been waiting, but he had called out regularly, hoping. And now it would seem that his plan was working. If the sounds he was hearing were what he thought they were. The sword called out eagerly, really hoping it wasn't some stupid animal poking around. The blade did not cease its cries for help as the sounds got louder. It was positive someone was coming. And that was good. He was not going to spend another minute stuck down here that he absolutely had to. The weapon wasn't sure how long he had been calling out just yet, but it didn't matter if he was going to be rescued. Oh, to taste blood again. Hopefully whoever it was liked to murder things. People would be ideal, but beggars couldn't be choosers, though Surtr liked to thing he was a fairly persuasive sword. Being one of the few swords capable of such things, obviously that made him more persuasive than any of the others. That was a nice thought, but it didn't matter when he couldn't kill anything.

But much to his pleasure, the weapon discovered that it was indeed a person coming to rescue him. He cried out in glee. "Yes! Yes! You'll do nicely. Now pick me up!" he cried as the adventurer entered the room. but then she accused him of being a statue. Gram sighed, he would have shaken his head if he had one. "No, silly. I'm the sword. I'm a talking sword." he shouted at her. "I'm not cursed, I'm just not capable of moving on my own. Someone thought it would be funny to leave me down here for a century or two. It's not funny. I promise you, it is not funny to leave an immortal being somewhere for centuries. And I swear to any deities that might be watching, if you don't help me, I will be upset with you for as long as you live." it wasn't like he could get up and hurt anyone, so that was the best he could do. "But if you do help me, I'll never fail you. I am Surtr Nothung, 'Black Wrath' in your tongue, I think. You can call me Gram, though. That means 'Fury' if I'm not mistaken. Could be wrong, I haven't been around for a while. Now stop gawking and dancing about. Pick me up and let's get out of here, you can admire me outside in the sunlight." the blade was eager to be outside, even more eager to get buried in the flesh of an enemy.

"Help yourself to the baubles too, if you like, I think there's a chest behind the statue if you pull the rightmost sconce to the left. But be quick about it, I want out of here. Weapons aren't made to sit around and do nothing..." there was an almost threatening tone to his words, but the flammenschwert knew it wasn't exactly in a position to hurt anyone. He was understandably upset, in his opinion. The weapon just wanted to be outside and free of his scabbard for once in a great many years...

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