SmileyJaws — Roleplayer Guild

The Hallows Inn

 You find yourself sprinting, as fast as you can, pushing every muscle in your body to the limit. The dirt track in front of you, so bogged down by rain water has become nothing more than a sludge path of sodden muck. With every step you feel as if your boots are about to be pulled from your feet. Thin, black gnarled branches of long dead trees pinch and tear at your clothes and skin, but you ignore the pain other than a wince after each painful lash. The rain is pouring and your soaked clothing weighs you down, you feel as if at any minute, your fatigue will overcome you and you will succumb to being yet another victim of the Drakenwald, in common tongue, the Dragon's Wood. For the longest time now, your only light source has been that of the moon where it manages to penetrate through the crowded tree-tops, whose dead branches are like crippled arms clawing at the sky, begging for freedom.

Suddenly, thunder rumbles and now consistent flashes of lightning offer you glimpses of what lies ahead, allowing you to maneuver around thorns and branches as sharp as a good sword. However, with each flash of lightning paranoia grows on you, fingering at the deepest parts of your brain. What was at first a hunch that you were being watched is now visuals, whether or not they are hallucinations, deep red eyes watching you through the trees, waiting for you to fall, or make a mistake before the pounce. Thunk you hit the ground hard as you trip over something, struggling to turn onto your back you see it was a rope, tied between the bases of two trees. Your hunch proved to be right, someone or something is hunting and you are their prey. About to give in, you lie back and feel the muck molding to your shape, opening your eyes you see something that almost beings your heart to a stop. Hung from a thick branch, is a skeleton, a long dead victim of whatever it is that resides in this place. Strangely enough this gives you the power to keep going. Bringing yourself to your feet you turn on your heels and once again begin to make haste. You don't know where you are going but anywhere is better than this place. Seconds turn into minutes, which in turn feel like hours as you find you are hopelessly lost. But, something catches your eye, a light coming from between two trees, this is not like any light you have seen in a long time, this is natural daylight. You make one final dart for the light, you can feel your hunter is right behind you. You run and you run and you run.

Thunk. Once again you hit the ground, but this time the fall is not as bad, you open your eyes to see that you came crashing through a final line of trees and landed in a clearing of lush, green grass. Strangely enough, as you look up at the sky, you can see the sun hovering directly overhead, a small ball in the sky. You squint as it hurts your eyes, but you cannot look away knowing that only moments ago you'd seen the moon, it was as if, you'd stumbled into a different time. Bringing yourself around, you see that there is a building ahead of you, it appears to be some sort of resting place, an inn. Beside it lies the forge of a blacksmith. Coming to your feet, you walk towards the building and upon reaching the door, push it open and stumble inside, dragging in muck and dripping water all over the oak floor. Eyes from all over the large open room fall you, you catch a pretty maiden standing on the stairs. Time seems to freeze for a moment, only to be started again by a voice.

"Another wanderer? This is the third this week, at this rate, we're soon going to run out of rooms... Welcome to the Hallows Inn! Lazarus, at your service." 

Welcome to the OOC for The Hallows Inn role-play. For those that have been here since the interest check, you'll know the back-story to this role-play as well as some of it's history, for those of you who don't know, here's what you missed:

So I haven't seen an inn role-play in a very long time. Perhaps it's that they're frowned upon or perhaps they've simply gone out of fashion/lived out their course. Whatever the case is, while scrolling through the forums I decided that I really would like to partake in an inn role-play again, and that is why I am creating this thread. I remember years ago on the Runescape Forums (sorry if that counts as advertising) before they went to hell and had a decent following of exceptional role-players, the first role-play I ever joined was, yes, an inn role-play. This role-play was created by a user on those forums called LordMatt144 and the role-play was named; "The Hallows Inn". It was this role-play that had me gripped by the ankles and wouldn't let me go, instantly my love for books, literature and other such mediums was revived and I fell head over heels with role-playing.

When this role-play had run it's course it led to a role-play I created (my first time being a GM in a role-play), called "The Sanctuary". Based in a universe on a separate plane of existence to the Hallows Inn, traveled to by a portal; the patrons of the inn found themselves in a city that was consumed by death. After successfully reaching the highest point of the city and defeating an entity known as The Guardian, the city was revived, those trapped by death returned to normal and the dank city became glistening white marble once again. The role-play was a hit and lasted for a colossal thirty-one threads over a number of years before all the players had moved on from the RSF. Having gone through heart-pounding battles, lovey-dovey romance and an amazing world, built by us all on a collaborative effort, the final thread of the role-play fell to page 51 of the RSF where it died and was wiped from server history. Back story

The Hallows Inn is situated in the middle of a clearing in a forest known as the Drakenwald. The Drakenwald has never been fully mapped but is known to be the largest woods in the chartered World. The exact location of the clearing in relation to the forest is also unknown as all who have come across The Hallows Inn have done so by accident, often after days, if not weeks of being lost in the vast expanse of the Drakenwald.

The owner of the inn is a man who goes by the name Lazarus. Nobody knows his exact age, only that he has been at the inn for centuries, some rumors say that he was born in the Drakenwald and has never been outside its borders, others say that Lazarus is an entity of the forest that cannot leave, a Dryad of sorts. What is definitely known is that all weary wanderers who come across the Hallows Inn are offered refuge until they decide it is time to move on, if at all.

Character Sheet

On the matter of creating your character, just a few points:

Remember our characters are not hardened warriors (at least not this soon into the role-play);
Armor and weapons shouldn't be too over-powered or overdone. For example, if you fancy your character a bit of a knight, don't go having a full set of plate mail with all the knots and works;
The role-play is following a traditional-fantasy style, at least for the time being, so it would be appreciated if we kept our characters in this genre in relation to race, class etc.;

Name:
Age:
Race:
Gender:
Sexuality:
Class:

Appearance: (Pictures are preferred)
Weapon(s):
Armor:

Personal Trinkets: (If any)
Short History:
Other:

NPCs

This list will be added to when the role-play starts, it will include NPCs that are around the inn and that are either essential to the role-play OR references to the previous version of this role-play.

Name: Lazarus
Age: Unknown
Class: Unknown
Race: Human?
Occupation: Innkeeper

Weapon(s): None, that are known to us
Armor: None.

Name: Sceolan
Age: Time has effected Sceolan strangely, all that is known of his age is that he is old.
Class: Fighter/Warrior
Race: Half-elf
Occupation: None

Weapon(s): Sceolan now uses what looks like a wizard's staff as a walking stick, and could be used as a weapon if need be, however, next to the table Sceolan is always seated at, resting against the table-top with the point on the floor is a rusty sword. What looks like once could have been a great blade, now corrupted by rust and almost falling apart. It's not much good in combat but served Sceolan well for years.

Armor: None

Info: Sceolan is a half-elf male of an unknown age who is a now a permanent resident in the Hallows Inn, after having left for what seems like an eternity. Tales go that he was a Hero-King among men and women of all age and race in another World, having traveled there by a portal. Hero of a hundred battles and several wars, Sceolan does not talk much to anyone except Lazarus about his tale. Now a disheveled shell of the great elf he once was, his one wish is to see his home again before he passes.

Name: Grombrindol Ironbreaker
Age: 112
Race: Dwarf
Class: Engineer
Occupation: Blacksmith

Weapon(s): Grombrindol has a number of weapons, none of which Lazarus allows to be on display around the Inn or the clearing (unless they are for patrons). Grombrindol has also fashioned some flintlock pistols and muskets which he keeps in his personal stash.

Info: Grombrindol is a master of many styles when it comes to crafting weaponary, Dwarfish, Orcish, Human, however, he will never craft or even attempt to craft an Elvish weapon. It is not that he doesn't think he has the skill, in fact he believes he surpasses them in skill. It's a race thing...

Okay guys, for now that's all, I'll add to this as we go on but feel free to start putting your character sheets up.

Special thanks to Altered Tundra for the new banner!
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