VoiD

Enduwin: Act 1 - The Dark Awaits

Posted my first IC, hope it's not too short.

Enduwin: Act 1 - The Dark Awaits

There were very few things that ever made Haljon feel small. He had lived the majority of his life towering over others, and his height always attracted attention. He was known as a giant amongst giants to the rest of his race, both his greatest curse and boon. Mountains, of course, always managed to make him feel small. Philosophy? He wasn't the most sophisticated of men, and over-deep musings went over his head as surely as mountains. The more expensive inns and estates he had been employed at always seemed to have a habit of dwarfing him as well.

Vrent seemed to have all these things. Founded on an enormous range of mountains, with architecture that didn't seem to know the meaning of "wide", as well as ample philosophical hogwash that made his head spin. Not to mention the size of the thrice-damned people. An average Vrentus stood head and shoulders above Haljon. He'd find the whole thing quite depressing if he didn't find it that much more hilarious.

He spotted the inn he was supposed to meet his new employer at, and managed to extricate himself from the huge throngs of people walking along the Ard road. Standing in front of the large oak door, Haljon hesitated for a moment before pushing his way inside; mere moments after the Venar known as Bakk had sat down. Haljon rubbed his eyes in order to adjust to the sudden darkness. He itched his wild beard idly as his gaze swept across the room, shrugged, then approached the tavernkeep standing behind the bar.

"Two ales, and a man named Eolas." He grumbled, his voice reminiscent of distant thunder. He tossed the barkeep his payment.

Haljon heard the tavernkeep mutter under his breath something about "meaty men and trouble", but ignored it. He collected his two ales - which frothed appetizingly at the top - and moved towards Eolas' table. He nodded to the Ventus and then the Venar, and sat down heavily. He didn't wait for either of them to speak before downing both ales in two massive swallows. Haljon belched and wiped his face with the back of his hand. Satisfied, he nodded again towards his table companions.

"Haljon. 'Tis a pleasure."

Deleted

@Dead Cruiser Awesome! Really hyped for this rp.

The Fires of Anuria(Reboot)

@Ozerath They only pushed deep enough to attack supply lines, so probably out of range of missiles. Your gunship, since it was called way earlier, would probably arrive sooner, with my fighter hot on the heels.

The Fires of Anuria(Reboot)

The Theocracy of Aorolach

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Patrol near Camp Frostbite
Arctic Northlands, Malthecien-Ashtarian border

[+]

The world seemed to turn upside down. Without knowing how or why, Elthian suddenly found himself lying on his back. He had trouble breathing, as if a great weight laid on his chest. Vision blurred and half-buried by snow and chunks of permafrost, Elthian dimly registered the sounds of gunfire and screaming raging around him. Slowly, he came to, the electronics in his suit recalibrating themselves. His HUD flashed into existence, blinking all manners of alerts. He groaned, and sat up...

"SNIPER!" Invoker Theuron screamed, grabbing Elthian's arm roughly and yanking him to his feet. He shoved him towards a snowy bluff ten paces away. "Take cover NOW Acolyte!" He didn't wait for a response, instead turning and emptying his battery into the distance.

Barely comprehending, Elthian dove behind the bluff, and was soon accompanied by several others from his squad. He noticed, with a sinking feeling in both his stomachs, the absence of nearly half of their original force. He heard Invoker Theuron curse, and suddenly the world was upside down again. Elthian found himself on his back, with a still-cursing Invoker Theuron next to him.

"He's using goddamn anti-armor rounds!" Invoker Theuron said incredulously, then turned to Elthian. "Acolyte, see if you can get a read on him, track the trajectory. The rest of you," He turned to the other surviving members of their patrol. "Provide suppressing fire! Use all your goddamn batteries on him if you need to. GO!" Invoker Theuron barked.

Supercharged plasma suddenly filled the air, and Elthian quickly began running simulations. The built-in processor in his suit hummed with power as it greedily sucked in air from his ventilators. Calculations ran across his HUD as a target icon swam across his vision. Finally, an alert popped up on his screen: INSUFFICIENT DATA. Elthian cursed the father, and turned to the Invoker. "Not enough data! You need to bait out another shot!"

Invoker Theuron gave no indication that he had heard, but suddenly he jumped up at cover, only to duck down immediately afterwards. The world tilted again, and two members of the remaining squad gave startled yells, unnaturally cut off. "Got 'em!" Elthian yelled triumphantly. Invoker Theuron gave him a thumbs-up. "I'm giving you a direct line to Central! Call in hell, Acolyte!"

Elthian swallowed hard, but nodded his assent. "Central, this is Acolyte Elthian of Patrol Squad D4N02. We have a hostile sniper approximately five kilometers away positioned on a hilltop. He is using heavy anti-armor rounds. We need immediate fire support. I repeat, we need immediate fire support." His heart thudding in his chest, he only had to wait for a moment before the reply came through.

"Understood Acolyte. Sending in a Crusader fighter equipped for low-atmosphere fire support. ETA sixty seconds." Elthian pumped his fists. They were saved.

The Fires of Anuria(Reboot)

@Ozerath I saw! I'll probably write up a response right now.

Empires of Sand

Interested! I'll have a sheet up later tonight/tomorrow.

Deleted

@TheWizardLizard Thank you for the kind words. And no, it wasn't intentional - I must have missed that on my revision. I may have Damion and the Crimson Company tag along/meet up with Emily if they get approved :)

EDIT: @DeltaV I probably didn't make it clear enough - Damion only values loyalty/friendship towards him. He truly does value his friendships though, and perceives them as so. I think it adds a bit more nuance to Damion's character and makes him less of an archetype. Although, I value blank slates, as it allows (in my opinion) for greater and less restricted character development.

Deleted

@Dead Cruiser Here it is. Tell me what you think.

Lord of Blades

Name: Damion Blackmont
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Appearance:

A man of muscular build, Damion stands at 5'11, and weighs roughly sixteen stones (160 lbs). His arms are slightly longer than normal, and his hands are heavily calloused. Damion has a clean-cut face, and a closely cropped haircut. His eyes are deep set and dark brown, almost black. He possesses strong, angular facial features, along with thin eyebrows and a small nose. Most would consider Damion at least moderately handsome. He appears athletic and graceful, and carries himself with confident, almost arrogant, poise.

Personality:

Damion works hard to come across as a graceful man with a noble demeanor. Off the battlefield, his words brim with charisma and eloquence; on the battlefield his tone is clipped, strict, and brokers no debate. He has cultivated a reputation as an honorable man, though secretly he is utterly ruthless when it comes to achieving his goals. Damion is incredibly ambitious, and possesses an utmost confidence in himself, bordering on complete arrogance. He is a cunning and opportunistic tactician, and these traits follow him off the battlefield as well. He values friendship very highly, though he holds long and sometimes petty grudges. He is prideful of his abilities and though he does not outright boast, he lets everyone know of them. He is oft said to be somewhat stubborn, convinced his methods are always the correct ones.

History:

Damion was born in a tavern in a town somewhere in northern Borea. His mother was a common tavern wench and died in labor. His father, a young belted knight of twenty, took Damion and left the town in grief. Damion grew up on the roads, traveling with his father who was now little more than a hedge knight. They traveled from town to town for some time, his father discontent to be under the employ of some minor lord. Damion was reared in the basics of swordplay and courtly etiquette by his father up until the age of seven, when his father entered the employ of a lord who was considered a regional power in Borea.

There, he quickly showed promise and soon began squiring under another belted knight in the service of the Borean lord. He was scorned by the other squires for his common birth, and later due to jealousy of his impressive talent. By seventeen he was known throughout the court as a devilishly quick swordsman, as well as unusually well-spoken. He acclimated to court-life quickly, and learned the intricacies of etiquette there; however, he soon tired of the petty power-plays that court-life entailed. When his father was slain in a skirmish, Damion left the court permanently. He was nineteen.

He changed his last name to Blackmont, and used the sale of his father's possessions as well as some small loans to recruit the first five lances of what would come to be known as the Crimson Company. One of these lances persist to this day, and make up some of Damion's closest advisors, commanders, and friends. Initially he took small work such as reinforcing garrisons and driving out bandits, marauders and the like. However, as word spread of the professionalism of his company, he gained ever more lucrative contracts, which in turn allowed him to expand his company.

Eventually the Crimson Company was hired by a minor Borean power in their war against two of their neighbors. There, Damion displayed his tactical prowess by achieving an incredible victory against an army six times the size of his company with hardly any casualties of his own. He would continue these feats several times in the course of that war and two others, which eventually netted him enough fame and capital to be known throughout Borea and even into parts of the old Atlantean empire. Damion used part of these new-found funds to rebuild a ruined castle in the mountains of southern Borea, abandoned during the Age of Dusk. He has established the castle as his company's stronghold.

Journey:

Damion's current goal is to gather fame and repute, as well as significant capital, through the Crimson Company. His ultimate dream is to carve out a realm of his own, through conquest or political intrigue. He believes he is the only one capable of creating a new civilized nation powerful enough to withstand the evils of the world.

Ideals:

Damion highly values friendship and loyalty, the latter of which he actively seeks to cultivate in all his followers. He firmly believes that the ends often justify the means, though he is also quite conscious of the value of his reputation and will avoid doing things which may negatively affect it; such as breaching the unwritten laws of war. He is highly ambitious and values intelligence, forethought, and bravery in his subordinates.

Holdings:

Damion is the leader of the Crimson Company, the so-called "Lord of Blades". The Crimson Company is a professional army-for-hire consisting of two-hundred fully equipped lances, which is roughly twelve-hundred soldiers. Each lance has six members: a heavily armored man-at-arms and his similarly equipped squire or page, a slightly lighter armored serjeant, and three archers. Every soldier is mounted and has at least two horses; one for riding and one for battle. Damion also owns Castle Blackmont, a large fortified castle in the mountains of Borea he rebuilt using the funds from his company. He uses the castle as a home base for his army. Damion has an excellent warhorse named Grendel, along with full custom plate armor and a hand-and-a-half longsword.

Enduwin: Act 1 - The Dark Awaits

Working on an IC, expect it today or tomorrow.