SyrianHamster

Conquering Paradise: 1492 - An Age of Exploration NRP

Alright, looking at this, I see potential. Freeform is good. I've learnt from this forum that RPs with structured plots breed deserters. Mechanics cause dissent. Yes, freeform is good.

So we're looking at the real world, but with humans alongside fantasy beings? I tried that once, I ruined it with mechanics. So already you're in the right direction.

I'd like to play a revived Western Roman Empire, if I could? Covering the regions around Rome (but not holding the city, cus you know, Catholic seat of the world etc ) and Naples. Some General with delusions of ancestral grandeur, ya know? Gathers his troops, seizes the region and proclaims himself Consul or something. I'd be human, of course, but the Empire would always be willing to fill its ranks with whoever would bolster its fledgling form.

Battle Stations! - Castle Rivergate

The 16th Legion crawled slowly from the dense tree line east of Castle Rivergate. First, in huddled and disorganised masses, came the archers of the 11th Auxiliary Legion. These conscripts were inferior to their professional counterparts, mostly being made up of men too old to serve in the real legions, and women. For an Imperial woman seeking advancement in His Majesty's military, the auxiliaries of the frontiers were often the only way of showing their potential. Whilst not barred from conventional enlistment, the strenuous training routine designed to harden men in the Legions, was often too much physically for the finer sex to overcome. When a woman did pass the drill masters' tests, one could expect her to become a Captain within three years, having showed inhuman resourcefulness and strength just to get her foot in the door. For the rest, however, commendations from serving with the irregulars was the only other route.

Scattered around the 11th Auxiliary Legion, dozens of Centurions from the 16th were barking its soldiers into loose formations. Children, no older than eight winters, came forwards on the back of carts laden with arrows, and distributed the projectiles at various points across the assembling army. State-issued short swords, no more than two feet in length, were also plied to the auxiliaries - whom more often than not, couldn't afford their own personal weaponry. Whilst they wouldn't be expected to stand in battle against a determined foe such as the savagefolk of the north, it always helped to be prepared.

Behind the widening clump of archers, came the almost beautiful squares of the 16th's legionnaires. Each man wore silver chain rings overlapping blackened boiled leather. Their tower shields, almost as large as a man, gleamed with polish, and the short swords in their hands glimmered in the afternoon sun. At the head of each square, easily recognisable by their crimson plumbed helm, was a Centurion. Centurions were elite warriors, veterans of battle bred for leadership, and each one a loyal servant of the Emperor to no matter what end.

The 16th came to a shuddering halt fifty yards behind the auxilleries. As Lord Grimhelm rode between the rigid formations, he heard gasps of dispair, and not just from the auxilleries. Looking forwards, he understood why.

Castle Rivergate burned a green glow, and around her, an almost endless horde of black shapes stirred. The sound of battle was thick in the air, and the ageing Consul of the Empire knew that Lord Polvark still held the keep. He hadn't come too late, he could make a difference.

"The world's greatest warriors are gathered here, I am sure," mumbled Antonius, riding up behind the Consul.

Erich raised an eyebrow at him, "these savages? Greatest warriors?"

"Not they Consul. There is one who leads them, a giant of a man, pulsing with energy not meant for the hands of mortals," replied Antonius, suddenly stern with trepidation.

"I killed a giant once, when I was a bit younger than you," chuckled Erich, much to the Magnus' dismay, "got under his skirt, stabbed him right in the balls. When he stumbled, I climbed atop his knee and rammed it through his eye. I do not fear large beings."

"Rinack, the Emperor's Bane-"

"I killed a warlock once. He threw a fireball at me, and I my shield at him. Seared the flesh on my chest, and both arms - damn hurt, let me tell you. My shield caught him in the neck, pushed his windpipe out the other side. Of this, I do not joke," interjected Erich with a sly smile.

Antonius, Imperial Wizard, sighed at the Consul's confidence. A gesture quickly picked up by the wily general.

"Relax, Magnus, I know what dangers we face here today," said Erich. There was no humour this time. "If we fail in putting down this incursion, and destroying these fell-creations, then the Empire will fall. Make no mistake, if the savages are able to gain momentum, then the dwindling strength of our peoples will be unable to repulse them. This ends here, and today."

"I cannot defeat the giant warrior, nor Rinack. His power is beyond me, beyond any of those serving the Emperor," said Antonius, growing increasingly anxious.

"Then do not fight him; do what you always do, what you are supposed to do, and protect my men from his machinations," Erich grunted. He was becoming frustrated by the Magnus' fear of the enemy, and the man's lack of confidence.

Not wanting to allow Antonius' words to deter him, Lord Grimhelm urged his destrier forwards at a steady gallop until he was at the head of the auxilleries. In his lightweight, elaborate ceremonial parade armour, he truely looked every quality of some great king long forgotten. Drawing his sword, and pointing it at the sky, he spoke to his army in an attempt to stifle the seeds of cowardice.

"Soldiers! Soldiers! Soldiers of the Emperor! Stand, stand and be counted!" He yelled, his ancient voice becoming hoarse almost instantly. The Centurions closest to him, repeated his words down the line, until several reverberations were shooting through the ranks. "Today the savage men of the north, dirty in their ways, dishonourable in war, have fallen upon the Empire in its time of greatest weakness! Shall we surrender? Shall we present them with our wives and daughters? Shall we jar a dagger into the eyes' of our sleeping sons?"

"NO! HARAH!"

"Well, why don't we just down our weapons, pull down our britches and let 'em fuck us?"

"HARAH!"

"No? Well, it was just a suggestion. So the only thing we can really do, from this point on, is march forwards and FUCK THEM INSTEAD!" Erich broke into a coughing fit; his old lungs straining to rise to the challenge of conveying such a tenacious speech. No one laughed, or were disheartened by this; he had seen many winters, and had led the Empire to many victories. He would lead them to one more, they were all certain.

Retiring to the rear of the army, and deafened by the thundering applause of his men as they beat their swords against the wood of their shields, Erich nodded at his Signal's Master. The man, who was tall but scrawny, held a purple coloured flag high in the sky. Horns sounded all across the 11th Auxiliary Legion, and the mass of archers started a slow walk towards the castle - even as the savages scrambled to meet them.

St. Helen's Hospital - Survive the Night Horror RP || Freeform Edition

Automaton said
Jack Smith

Accepted.

St. Helen's Hospital - Survive the Night Horror RP || Freeform Edition

Alright, so as Commander in Chief of nothing, I have to ask the following questions.

To Clockykiller, if you still care:

1) So your character got admitted to St. Helen's by shady doctors, murdered a kid, then ran away, then came back fifty years later to rescue other patients from the doctors? That whole story proves the insanity part, but um, we'd need to clear a few things up unless you wanna play a 60-70 year old.

- You'd have to be dead, a returned and vengeful/guardian spirit. Either hepling innocents escaping those who tormented you, or killing aforementioned innocents.

That's actually about it. I mean, you're aware we're just a bunch of kids running around some hospital getting spooked by the Great Unknown right? And that this isn't Freddy Vs Jason? ... Well, not yet anyway.

---

Moving onto User,

Pro Tip: Delete the explanations in each section of the character sheet so the GM doesn't have to filter out what it is you've actually written.

So he's just an eccentric multi-personality murderer?

No problem with the idea myself, but I must turn to the populace for guidance. Freeform DEMANDS democracy, after all.

To existing players: Do we need/want a homicidal maniac yet? Or are we still exploring creepy stuff?

St. Helen's Hospital - Survive the Night Horror RP || Freeform Edition

Whoa, take it easy people. This is freeform, freeform is all about love and understanding (he says). That's why it's called the "freeform" edition, it pretty much leaves the RP open to almost everything.

I've gotta go out, me and the Mrs are being treated by my folks at an all you can eat chinese. All you can eat chinese is pretty much my cocaine, and no I'm not fat, I am a fine specimen of warfare.

If I have time when I get back, I'll look over all of this and see why there's a mob running amok with torches screaming bloody murder in the OOC rather than the IC. Until then, nobody do anything rash, if I come back to an empty RP I will find the person responsible and send him pictures of my hairy chest. If it's a her then I wont, on account of the likeliness of the ensuing legal issues, but I'll think of something.

Battle Stations! - Castle Rivergate

Of course, zombies! Where would we be without the walking dead? Castle Rivergate is getting busy!

St. Helen's Hospital - Survive the Night Horror RP || Freeform Edition

One bottle hit the wall and crashed. Gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp, then a second bottle. Chad was not stopping for no one, and eagerly grabbed the third. If he took a second to focus beyond the placement of the bottle cap opener, he'd of realised he was shaking. It was something; I did not imagine it. SHUT UP. Drink more, you pussy.

He dropped the third empty bottle, let it smash on the floor, and then collapsed into a heavily moulded bench behind him. The lobby was quiet, eerily so, and this did not add to Chad's mood in a positive way. Desperately trying to get a hold of himself, to the point of denying the streaks on his arm resembled fingers, he entertained the idea of making a break for the SUV and driving off as fast as he could.

"Naw," he sighed to himself, "the great Chad, ruffled by a freak occurrence of the shadows?"

The sound of his own voice, mocking yet confident, gave him something to anchor on. He was a fully grown mad, God darned it, and he wasn't about to cave in like a child. It'd been a decade since he last admitted he was afraid of the dark. In an attempt to distract himself, he tried again to recall his brother's experience at the place - though nothing seemed to come. His brother had gotten lucky here, he knew that, and he would've remembered if someone got hurt. One thing that did come to mind though, was that strange look in his eyes - an emotion Chad seldom saw on his brother's features. It was fear. Ball breaking fear.

Battle Stations! - Castle Rivergate

Lord Polvark grimaced as a youthful face - a girl - no more than fourteen winters, surely, twisted in anguish moments before it was engulfed in an emerald inferno. Flames licked at the front ranks of the praetorians, causing several of them to step backwards as their shields heated to the point of spawning blisters across their wrists. It was a fell thing, for the very force of Mother Nature to be twisted and turned into evil. Lord Polvark held up the regal sceptre of his House, and mumbled a few words that his father had taught him as a child.

More flame came down upon the retreating soldiers, but this time it froze above their heads, twisting and turning in hungry frustration before dissipating. Lord Polvark was no mage, nor a sorcerer or wizard, but the heirloom of his bloodline was an enchanted relic of the Black Age. By saying the words inscribed upon the silk-threaded handle, and lending one's own life force to the powers that dwelt within, the sceptre's wielder could deflect the aggressive magic of others. Though a novice of its understanding could only do this for a short while, as was in Polvark's case.

Perspiring with heavy exhaustion, and his mind clouded by a dense thicket of fatigue, he dropped to one knee. A piercing pain stung in the dephs of his brain, as though he'd spent the previous night drinking ale. He was grabbed by two pairs of hands - his men had seen him fall, and were preparing to whisk him away to the safety of the keep. He shurgged them off.

"No, I am all that stands between this castle's fall and the evil that surrounds us," he said weakly.

His men obeyed, and released him.

"How many have we saved, sergeant?" Polvark asked wearily, using the cold stone of the keep's wall to support him.

"As many as we're going to, my Lord," said the sergeant grimly.

More fire came pouring down on the praetorians. Lord Polvark lent what little he had left, and again repulsed the devouring wall of laurel flames. This time he fell on his arse, and could not get back up. Lord or not, his men made the decision for him.

"Alright lads, we've done what we can," bellowed the sergeant, "make for the keep!"

The praetorians marched backwards, eyeing the carnage before them, and deflecting the odd strike as and when it appeared. In the middle of it all, stood a man clad in robes too big, and too concealing for them to catch a proper glimpse of his true form. To the eagle-eyed, he seemed to be smirking, and as he raised his palm, the organised retreat broke into a panicked rout. Flames licked at the backs of the soldiers, blistering their skin beneath their armour, but they dared not turn to look, nor stop to fight the blaze eating away at them. When the great oaken doors of the keep slammed shut, and the screams of the wounded and dying drowned out the carnage outside, the sergeant saw that only seventy of his men remained.

"By the Emperor, what evil was that?" he asked, wiping a black smear from his face. "Have the savages gained themselves a warlock?"

---

The 16th Legion marched through the thick forest. Divided into innumerable lines of soldiers, it was vulnerable - if their enemy came upon them now, they would be unable to form up in an organised fashion. The strength of any Imperial Legion was its ability to form ranks, to move and to fight as one coherent combat unit. The heavily vegetated north was ill fitting terrain for them, and partly the reason the Emperors had never fretted too much over conquering it.

Lord Erich Grimhelm was confident though. The barbarians were not smart, though some scholars back in the Heartlands often professed otherwise. Skirmishing lines, scouting parties and the use of signallers was beyond them. They were what they were often called - savages; backwards, big but dumb, brave but wasteful. The Consul of the Imperial Senate had many times sent them sprawling back over the borderlands, usually with ease, but then it was always on his terms. This would be the first time he was actively reacting to them, rather than the other way around. It did not bother him either way.

Antonius had kept him posted on Castle Rivergate's situation throughout the day-long trip. He was almost certain that he would arrive too late to save Lord Polvark, and if that was the case, he reckoned that a retreat was in order. On an open field, he was confident he could drive away five times his number. Hemmed in by tree lines, and blocked by an occupied fort, he figured he'd be lucky to drive away half. Everything was hinging on Polvark's ability to do his Earth Mother given duty, and hold that piece of rock to his dying breath. The Empire's northern frontier depended on it.

Battle Stations! - Castle Rivergate

thewizardguy said
Yeah, I'm glad you approve of the death. I was tempted to wait until someone showed up to save Trinton's ass, but nobody really did, so I killed him off. I really didn't see any realistic way that Trinton could have survived that encounter.

It's okay, he wasn't supposed to. I was actually afraid you was going to pussyfoot around and I'd have to do it in my following post. Well written sir!

St. Helen's Hospital - Survive the Night Horror RP || Freeform Edition

Alright, I'll stop with the posts now, to give people a chance to catch up.