Does anybody enjoy reading my posts about the Captain? Just kinda wondering what you guys think of it. I do it to expand the lore of the world where we're going as well as to develop the character, but maybe the players don't see it that way...
Thinslayer Member
- Last Seen: 2 mos ago
- Joined: 10 yrs ago
- Posts: 1776 (0.50 / day)
- VMs: 2
-
Username history
- Thinslayer 10 yrs ago
-
Latest 10 profile visitors:
-
Most recent →
Scrawl Banditta,
ConductorCore,
SilverPaw,
Rin,
ineffable,
Shadows Demons,
Lord Zee
Status
Recent Statuses
5 yrs ago
Either RolePlayerGuild.com is glitching, or everyone is studiously ignoring my PMs.
1
like
Bio
Forever-GM of forum roleplaying games. What can I say? I like making worlds for people to play in.
Most Recent Posts
There's room in the Captain's army for a human soldier. Saturday should be fine. Are you okay?
Inside the Tunnel
Tomas deposited the Captain against a rock so their medic, Gilf, could tend to her. "Where are we?" Gilf asked. Tomas lit a match and held it up. Light scattered over the walls and spilled over patch of earth where several names were scrawled.
Uglithug was here
Youlo Nerot was here
Nilfrog chuckled and pointed to the first name. "I knew that one. Hell of an orc."
The Captain crawled over and put down her own name. Several orcs studied her a moment, wondering whether to be worried for her health or happy that she was moving again. Then she looked back at them and grinned.
"Well, I was here too, wasn't I?"
Their faces softened and their shoulders perked. Satisfied that she had sufficiently eased their tension, she leaned against Gilf's arm and got to her feet. "I'll lead the way. Rengar, may I have my staff please?"
The orc called Rengar handed her a white staff that was as long as she was tall. Aside from its pristine condition, it looked like little more than a nice rod. The Captain rapped it on the floor, and a bright light shone from its upper tip.
She squeezed her grip on it with her left hand.
I only have a few hours of magic left in this thing. We have to get moving. The Captain reached into her thigh pouch and withdrew a crude map. Though it was only the second time she'd ever been this way in her life, her first trip was so etched into her memory that she couldn't help but remember it. The difficult part was working backwards, since this time she meant to use the tunnel to get out of Fellmore, rather than into it.
More importantly, she hoped that she remembered the path correctly, because one wrong step meant dropping into a chasm or waking up the trolls.
With a long sigh, she waved her right hand forward and began to march into the darkness, staff held high to light the way. The tunnels were like a dungeon maze, with forks, dead ends, and traps at every turn. The oppressive darkness fought to snuff out all excess light, allowing vision only in a small radius of the staff's position. Three hundred orcs may not seem like a large number, but in the relative absence of light, it was a dangerous number when the light ahead turned a few corners. A couple times the Captain had to double back to make sure no one got lost.
Then, just as they spotted the light at the end of the tunnel, it happened.
They were filing past a dark side opening when a low groan reverberated through the halls and shook dust from the roof. At first everyone thought it was an earthquake. But the Captain knew better, for she could hear better. A nameless fear pricked her heart, and she staggered back into the marching column. "Captain?" one orc protested.
Something is in there.
She pushed off him and approached the opening once more. She raised her staff to shed light on it. There in the shadows laid a creature she never ever wanted to meet in her lifetime. And it was wide awake.
A word escaped her lips before the thought even crossed her mind. "RUN!!" Trained to obey without hesitation, the marching orcs broke into a jog. The Captain tore off her gauntlet, exposing a silver ring on her finger to the light of her staff. She bit her finger just above the ring and allowed a trickle of blood to pool around it.
That should be good enough for a spell or two. She got her gauntlet back on right before the creature plowed into her. It slammed her into the wall and shattered rock when she landed. Hot breath sprayed her face. Panic seized her, and she took a wild swing at it with her staff. It missed. And for the first time, she got a good look at the face of her enemy. It was the face of a dragon, red as a fire's dying embers, its yellow eyes slitted in fury. The Captain immediately recognized what they were up against: the Wyrm, one of the several great Guardians of their world.
It opened its mouth wide. She swung her staff again, and this time, several shards of earth shot down its throat. Its resultant gag reflex gave her the break she needed to make a run for it. The Captain scrambled on her hands and feet to catch up with the column of orcs, the Wyrm close on her heels. We're getting so close to the exit! Why can't these things just leave us alone? she thought as she stumbled over another pile of rocks.
The Wyrm suddenly snapped its jaws over her leg and started to drag her backwards. The staff fell out of her hands as she fought for a grip against the gargantuan creature. No! No! It can't end like this! "Help! Help me, please!" she cried. For a few harrowing moments, she thought no one had heard her. Then, the Wyrm let out a surprised gurgle as another massive creature hurled a breath-taking punch at its face. The Captain fell out of its jaws. She could hear the grunts and shrieks of a violent struggle as the Wyrm and its enemy thrashed about in the darkness. A voice she recognized called out to her.
"Go! I'll take the beast!"
It was Tomas. "N-no! Tomas!" the Captain stammered.
"Now!" he ordered.
She hesitated.
"Trust me!" the orc pleaded.
I trust you, Tomas. I always have and always will. Just...come back to me alive. She tore herself away from the fight and turned to head for the exit.
"I trust you, Tomas," she said at last. "Report back to me when you're finished."
With that, she fled for the light at the end of the tunnel, grateful that the metal mask on her face hid the tears she left behind.
Tomas deposited the Captain against a rock so their medic, Gilf, could tend to her. "Where are we?" Gilf asked. Tomas lit a match and held it up. Light scattered over the walls and spilled over patch of earth where several names were scrawled.
Uglithug was here
Youlo Nerot was here
Nilfrog chuckled and pointed to the first name. "I knew that one. Hell of an orc."
The Captain crawled over and put down her own name. Several orcs studied her a moment, wondering whether to be worried for her health or happy that she was moving again. Then she looked back at them and grinned.
"Well, I was here too, wasn't I?"
Their faces softened and their shoulders perked. Satisfied that she had sufficiently eased their tension, she leaned against Gilf's arm and got to her feet. "I'll lead the way. Rengar, may I have my staff please?"
The orc called Rengar handed her a white staff that was as long as she was tall. Aside from its pristine condition, it looked like little more than a nice rod. The Captain rapped it on the floor, and a bright light shone from its upper tip.
She squeezed her grip on it with her left hand.
I only have a few hours of magic left in this thing. We have to get moving. The Captain reached into her thigh pouch and withdrew a crude map. Though it was only the second time she'd ever been this way in her life, her first trip was so etched into her memory that she couldn't help but remember it. The difficult part was working backwards, since this time she meant to use the tunnel to get out of Fellmore, rather than into it.
More importantly, she hoped that she remembered the path correctly, because one wrong step meant dropping into a chasm or waking up the trolls.
With a long sigh, she waved her right hand forward and began to march into the darkness, staff held high to light the way. The tunnels were like a dungeon maze, with forks, dead ends, and traps at every turn. The oppressive darkness fought to snuff out all excess light, allowing vision only in a small radius of the staff's position. Three hundred orcs may not seem like a large number, but in the relative absence of light, it was a dangerous number when the light ahead turned a few corners. A couple times the Captain had to double back to make sure no one got lost.
Then, just as they spotted the light at the end of the tunnel, it happened.
They were filing past a dark side opening when a low groan reverberated through the halls and shook dust from the roof. At first everyone thought it was an earthquake. But the Captain knew better, for she could hear better. A nameless fear pricked her heart, and she staggered back into the marching column. "Captain?" one orc protested.
Something is in there.
She pushed off him and approached the opening once more. She raised her staff to shed light on it. There in the shadows laid a creature she never ever wanted to meet in her lifetime. And it was wide awake.
A word escaped her lips before the thought even crossed her mind. "RUN!!" Trained to obey without hesitation, the marching orcs broke into a jog. The Captain tore off her gauntlet, exposing a silver ring on her finger to the light of her staff. She bit her finger just above the ring and allowed a trickle of blood to pool around it.
That should be good enough for a spell or two. She got her gauntlet back on right before the creature plowed into her. It slammed her into the wall and shattered rock when she landed. Hot breath sprayed her face. Panic seized her, and she took a wild swing at it with her staff. It missed. And for the first time, she got a good look at the face of her enemy. It was the face of a dragon, red as a fire's dying embers, its yellow eyes slitted in fury. The Captain immediately recognized what they were up against: the Wyrm, one of the several great Guardians of their world.
It opened its mouth wide. She swung her staff again, and this time, several shards of earth shot down its throat. Its resultant gag reflex gave her the break she needed to make a run for it. The Captain scrambled on her hands and feet to catch up with the column of orcs, the Wyrm close on her heels. We're getting so close to the exit! Why can't these things just leave us alone? she thought as she stumbled over another pile of rocks.
The Wyrm suddenly snapped its jaws over her leg and started to drag her backwards. The staff fell out of her hands as she fought for a grip against the gargantuan creature. No! No! It can't end like this! "Help! Help me, please!" she cried. For a few harrowing moments, she thought no one had heard her. Then, the Wyrm let out a surprised gurgle as another massive creature hurled a breath-taking punch at its face. The Captain fell out of its jaws. She could hear the grunts and shrieks of a violent struggle as the Wyrm and its enemy thrashed about in the darkness. A voice she recognized called out to her.
"Go! I'll take the beast!"
It was Tomas. "N-no! Tomas!" the Captain stammered.
"Now!" he ordered.
She hesitated.
"Trust me!" the orc pleaded.
I trust you, Tomas. I always have and always will. Just...come back to me alive. She tore herself away from the fight and turned to head for the exit.
"I trust you, Tomas," she said at last. "Report back to me when you're finished."
With that, she fled for the light at the end of the tunnel, grateful that the metal mask on her face hid the tears she left behind.
@Cuccoruler
Zenovia is the mage, not the healer~ Just sayin'
EDIT: Also, I need something clarified. Are we on horses or are we on feet?
We're on foot, though a few of us are on horses.
Now, to be fair, the above tips are more in the purview of Detailed RP. They're easy to say, tough to implement. The reason I have this RP as Casual is to put a damper on the stress. As a rule, if posting feels like work, you're not going to do it. I know because I've been there. There are days when I really want to post something, but the desire to write a high-quality post overwhelms me and stops me from writing anything at all. I don't want that to happen to you guys.
Honestly, we'd all prefer that everyone's stories be well-written, and I think that XenoCyanide is right to challenge us to write better. But at the same time, if life is getting you down, your interests have moved on, or you're just plain busy, don't feel like you have to write an award-winning short story for your next post and end up leaving us hanging for a week. Just don't make a habit of writing low-quality work. I think that's all anybody can ask for, no? :P
Anybody else have writing tips to share?
Honestly, we'd all prefer that everyone's stories be well-written, and I think that XenoCyanide is right to challenge us to write better. But at the same time, if life is getting you down, your interests have moved on, or you're just plain busy, don't feel like you have to write an award-winning short story for your next post and end up leaving us hanging for a week. Just don't make a habit of writing low-quality work. I think that's all anybody can ask for, no? :P
Anybody else have writing tips to share?
I know a few tips for that.
* When writing a response, rewrite in your own words the post you're replying to. It shows the other player what you (or your character) thought of the events and improves your readers' immersion.
* Don't describe the environment per se, describe your character's reaction to it. You don't "see a lamp hanging from the celing," you "watch your head so you don't bump into the lamp hanging from the ceiling." There aren't "brambles and thickets around," you "bat away the brambles and thickets."
* Show, don't tell (or don't adverb). You don't "close the book angrily," you "slam the book shut with an ear-splitting pop."
* When writing a response, rewrite in your own words the post you're replying to. It shows the other player what you (or your character) thought of the events and improves your readers' immersion.
* Don't describe the environment per se, describe your character's reaction to it. You don't "see a lamp hanging from the celing," you "watch your head so you don't bump into the lamp hanging from the ceiling." There aren't "brambles and thickets around," you "bat away the brambles and thickets."
* Show, don't tell (or don't adverb). You don't "close the book angrily," you "slam the book shut with an ear-splitting pop."
Yeah, go on without me. I'll keep tabs on this. I've been having a heck of a time nailing down an intro that'll support me.
Maybe I should commandeer Dionaea Sycamore...
@Thinslayer
I'm still interested but Laina is basically just waiting for the quest to start etc.
The quest has already begun. I'm currently designing subquests that will challenge you, not just as an individual, but as a team. Heroes don't just save lives - they take tremendous risks. The upcoming subquests have the potential to end your character's life or otherwise deal them substantial harm. In order to properly design these subquests, I need to know your character better. More importantly, the characters need to know each other better, because they will come to depend on each other. This conversation stage is vital bonding time. Please take advantage of it.
Location: West Mountain Pass
A bitter chill seeped through her armor as the Captain waded through the snow. A blizzard was coming soon, and from the looks of it, there was no way they'd reach the tunnels before it hit. Already a fierce gale tore through the gaps in her bear hide and threatened to pierce her padded armor. She dragged up one foot and plunged it into the snow, then the other. A cloud of vapor trailed from her lips as she struggled to do it again. Behind her, three hundred orcs marched silently behind her. They were cold too, though not nearly as much, and more physically fit.
Yet none of them dared pass the Captain. Even Gilf, who was usually rambunctious, walked just a step or two behind her. The Captain's boot dug a little too deep in the snow and tripped her over. Gilf tenderly picked her up by the arm and set her on her feet again. "You don't have to do this..." he pleaded.
The Captain squeezed his hand and continued her exhausted slog.
I should have trained... she thought to herself.
I should have come earlier...
I should have let them carry me...
They'll all freeze here because of me.
They're trying so hard to be good
And I'm holding them back.
Why am I so foolish?...
The winds were getting stronger now.
Pride. It's my own pride.
Pride goes before a fall.
Speak of the devil...
The Captain tumbled down again. Now, her limbs utterly refused to obey. Get up! Get up! Get UP! Her struggles came out as low moans, and this time, Gilf could restrain himself no longer. He beckoned for Tomas to approach. "Please-" Gilf begged, but the vast orc needed no prompting. Tomas slung her onto his back and resumed his march. The warmth in his back filled her chest.
"Thank you..." she whispered in his ear.
The world seemed to drift away into a cloud of white. The other orcs formed up around her.
Then the storm hit.
A bitter chill seeped through her armor as the Captain waded through the snow. A blizzard was coming soon, and from the looks of it, there was no way they'd reach the tunnels before it hit. Already a fierce gale tore through the gaps in her bear hide and threatened to pierce her padded armor. She dragged up one foot and plunged it into the snow, then the other. A cloud of vapor trailed from her lips as she struggled to do it again. Behind her, three hundred orcs marched silently behind her. They were cold too, though not nearly as much, and more physically fit.
Yet none of them dared pass the Captain. Even Gilf, who was usually rambunctious, walked just a step or two behind her. The Captain's boot dug a little too deep in the snow and tripped her over. Gilf tenderly picked her up by the arm and set her on her feet again. "You don't have to do this..." he pleaded.
The Captain squeezed his hand and continued her exhausted slog.
I should have trained... she thought to herself.
I should have come earlier...
I should have let them carry me...
They'll all freeze here because of me.
They're trying so hard to be good
And I'm holding them back.
Why am I so foolish?...
The winds were getting stronger now.
Pride. It's my own pride.
Pride goes before a fall.
Speak of the devil...
The Captain tumbled down again. Now, her limbs utterly refused to obey. Get up! Get up! Get UP! Her struggles came out as low moans, and this time, Gilf could restrain himself no longer. He beckoned for Tomas to approach. "Please-" Gilf begged, but the vast orc needed no prompting. Tomas slung her onto his back and resumed his march. The warmth in his back filled her chest.
"Thank you..." she whispered in his ear.
The world seemed to drift away into a cloud of white. The other orcs formed up around her.
Then the storm hit.
© 2007-2026