WolfHorns

The beast-kin(or anthro creature) army- marriage or war?

@WolfHorns
It is a fantasy realm , so yes.

@Vampiretwilight

... >.> <.< -_-

Anyways, I've go ideas flowing and when I'm happy with one I'll update this post.

The beast-kin(or anthro creature) army- marriage or war?

Not sure if I want to be one of the anthros or heirs...but definitely interested

Question though, is there magic in this world?

The Tide Will Return (Space, Nation, Fantasy)

@CitrusArms

Not currently, I was going to wait for more setting info before getting set on a character.

Avalia

@princess

Ok, thank you for taken the time to read through my character. I was already aware of the fact that she prolly wouldn't come to fruition as I was almost sure someone else would've already ask about half-breeds. Also, any mentions of winter elves would have been a mental typo and were referring to winter faeries. (I was probably thinking something along the lines of Faeries-Fae-Elves and making a stupid mental jump while writing.) Also, practically everything you said that was wrong, was due to the half-breed nature anyways so that would've just solved it. And I'm gonna scrap her from this RP as I don't like massively reworking characters. I'm just gonna make a new one. Oh, and don't worry about me taking any critiques as personal. They are critiques after all.

Now the summaries.
1) That's the main setting info at the beginning of the OOC. It basically tells us how the world of Avalia is related to ours, and where a large number of our myths come from. It also tells us why we no longer have creatures from mythology popping up due to the dark elves. Basically dark elves are being angsty and bad, the light elves and faeries are freaking out. The Orcs seem to currently be oblivious and I assume the dwarves don't generally care as the conflict hasn't yet touched their homes. But, the light elves are going 'Oh Shit!' and started summoning humans to help fight off the dark elves.

That I did read before making a character. Also, if you can put in lore wise how long ago they actually started that process, that'd be pretty dope.

Anyways, gonna be truthful didn't read the other two before making a character. I don't think either part was in the OOC and I didn't plan to read the IC unless I got a character a-ok'ed.

2) Well, as it says at the top, the villians are introducing themselves. In the most stick-up-the-arse way they can. (Not saying the writer is a pretentious arse, just the characters) One of them goes all dementor and kisses the rat dude. The other is rightfully disgusted and instead decides to shout at his enemies and goes 'Ha! I'm your enemy!' Which is very foolish because now he has a target on his back. And this all happened because they got all uppity about the light elves being uppity and summoning humans. Also, the villians are full of themselves and no doubt they think their existence is a gift. I got that from them calling themselves the twin-headed dragon.

3) XD. This one sounds like a weird beach resort advert for spring break at the beginning and is all like 'Come see the once in a lifetime event of humans! Also, we did it over there but it wasn't as good.

Oh, also if this ends up sounded rude, that was not the intention. I have been told that I just kinda write that way when I'm writing from my perspective.

Dragonier (Medieval Fantasy, Dragon Riders, Magic, War)

@TheMerlin

Sounds good mate, I was already aware that I'd prolly have to change a number of things, but I just wanted to get some of my ideas out and give you a little bit of my writing.

Avalia

Well, I ended up making my half-breed anyways....so here it is.

The Forsaken

Aeronwen ⋆ 26 ⋆ Female ⋆ Fairy/Human



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Appearance

Height:
6'

Weight:
172 lbs

Hair Color:
Black

Eye Color:
Pale Blue

Skin Tone:
Pale Ash

Other Images

My Hider

Her Ice/Water Armor


Formal wear (if it's ever needed)

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Psychology

Likes:
⋆ Quiet
⋆ Glaciers
⋆ Hot Baths

Dislikes:
⋆ Crowds
⋆ Living horses (Smell bad)
⋆ Living people (also smell bad)

Fears:
⋆ Clowns
⋆ Being hunted down
⋆ Cats

Sexuality:
Bisexual

Personality:

Aeron, as she is known to friends, if she had any that is, Is extremely introverted. Though it manifests as extreme hostility rather than awkwardness. She is selfish to her core, not because she is inherently a bad person, but because she has been hunted down due to her father's blood. And when your life is on the line you have very little time for altruism. Due to being kicked to the ground, beaten, and even having her wings torn from her back, Aeron has long since followed the ideology of an eye for an eye. Aeron, as having no one on her side since her mother was hanged for sleeping with a human, has no one to fight for except herself. And now, after years of running she has decided to stop. No longer will she flee. For with the endless seas of the north at her beck and call she will march upon her enemies. (I want to make her into some kind of big bad if that's cool)

While extremely irritable, Aeron does know when to stay her hand for the most damage. While she used to get anxious at being found out, she has since discarded those useless thoughts. She is neither brave nor cowardly, for she will simply do what needs to be done. (In her view at least). She is used to being lied and tricked and will therefore react as such to most situations, but if one came to her in sincerity and truth, she might not be able to process it.

While having mastered the art of intimidation, Aeron cannot lie effectively. But who needs to be able to lie when you can just send messages with said lies? Nor can she charm or strike a friendly conversation even if she wanted to. While not the most intelligent, her tumultuous upbringing has resulted in her having the utmost attention to detail and a memory that can rival most scholars. Due to having no friends to speak of Aeron's humour has become quite dark and twisted. There are some who would say it's even dry. While not quite tired, Aeron does suffer from wicked insomnia and usually only gets about four hours of sleep a night. (If you count her attempted to raise an army to march south as being crazy, then yes, she's crazy)

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Background

Occupation
Former - Thief/Beggar
Current - Aspiring Dark Queen :)

Living Immediate Family Members:
None

Dead Immediate Family Members:
William Brenning, Father, Accomplished woodsman before he was pulled over
Anne Wuth'el, Mother, Ice Raiser (Built structures with ice)

Current Companions:
Mulph (A large white wolf)
Crossus (A nimble raven)

Current and Past Lover(s):
None

History:
Born to two loving parents, both from places worlds apart. My father, a human, damn him and his cursed blood. And my mother, one of the fairest Winter Faeries. That is if the stories told in the bars are true. But who knows? I don't remember my mother well. Just a pale form covered in red. Now, I knew what that meant, my father never let me forget. How could he? We were on the run, and for what? Because my father was human? No, I wish. If that was the case then maybe they'd stop with him. No, we were hunted because my mother had me. The tainted child. The cursed half-breed. Once again if the drunkards were to be believed, then I was the cause and source of every single ache and groan that their bodies made. Somehow, to them, I had become pestilence and death itself. Well, they already made me it, didn't they? So, why don't I become Pestilence and Death. Don't worry, the North will march, and let no living thing think it's safe.

My father taught me. Did he teach me well? No, but he taught me hard. Forced me to learn my magic. Tried to get me to learn more. The crazed man even struck my hand in a flame once to try and force me to learn fire magic. HA! Though, the biggest shock came shortly after. He had bribed a healer to stay quiet, though when she went to do her job, nothing happened. Infuriated, for that is the kind of man he became, a cruel drunkard, my father forced her to work harder. And harder she did, until the very skin around the burn started to rot away. I will never forget that pain, nor will I ever lose the scar that covers my right palm. I still can't stretch my hand fully because of it.

My body is full of those. Pains. My back is constantly tight, and I can't wear heavy jackets because of my stumps. You would think that after several years the pain of having them torn from you would disappear, but no. I still wake up in the middle of the night, screaming, hoping to be able to fly once more. No, they were taken from me, like my father was, curse him. I was not worthy of them, as a dirty half-breed. That was the first day I took a life. My father tried to prepare me for it. He had me kill elk and fish. Even had me kill a wolf once. That was hard, because I could hear it's acceptance, feel it in my bones. I was not prepared. There is something qualitatively different about killing another thinking individual then there is killing an animal. But I killed him. I killed the man who took my wings. I killed him and everyone else in that tiny village. Including the babes. I wept the most for them. I had thought myself darkened to the plights of those around me, but it wasn't until I saw those babes, frozen in their mothers arms, that my heart finally stopped beating.

You might ask, how did I freeze winter elves? Well, unlike humans, winter elves are not themselves immune to their elements. A traight that I happened to pick up from my father. It was strange, to not fear things that any sane person should. I did not fear the long nights nor the glacial seas. No, they are the only friends I have. That is, of course, not including Mulph and Crossus, a wolf and raven respectively. They seem to be the only kinds of animals I can speak with, another deficiency of mine.

Well, you might ask what I did after that fateful day. I fled. North, as far as I could go. Mulph and Crossus gathered more of their kind around me. They knew I had changed. I was no longer a person, for what person could murder innocent babes. No, I was Death, that very same think those drunkards so long ago called me, not even knowing I sat next to them. So I fled with these beasts that would see themselves lashed to me. I captured prisoners on my trek north. Shackled them in manacles of ice and forced them to move with wolves nipping at their heels. The was one of curiosity to me. An orc, he seemed older then most, though intelligent. I kept him away from the others and we would often speak at length. It was from him that I learned of the orcish ritual magic, and of how it strengthened them.

When we finally reached the sea and could flee no longer I pushed my magic to it's current limits. Never had I done so before. Never had the very fabric of the world seemed to sing with me. It was joyous, elated, that one of it's children could sing so loudly. And it moved. The world shifted. The snow stopped in the air, the waves paused in the ocean. and from it depths a great iceberg rose. A frozen fortress upon the water. My wolves forced my prisoners within it's icy depths. While I did not need to worry about the harshness, my prisoners did, so I forced my magic to moved the coldness away from them. They would still be chilly, but they would not freeze.

Unseen by the forces that chased me, we left. We sailed north in my frozen castle. We fed on great whales and orcas that I hunted with my magic. My wolves grew large and strong, my Ravens fast and nimble. Though while most of my prisoners would die, a few managed to have children in the interim years of our voyage. Those children survived. I will raise those children, and they will be my warriors, loyal to none but me.

The old orc eventually died, but not until I learned much of his rituals. I have not cracked them yet, but I will. And I will use them upon my beasts and soldiers. The old orc even spoke of another ritual, though it was mostly guesswork and hypothesizing. A ritual unlike any other. A ritual to raise legions. A ritual to raise the dead.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Combat and Magic:

Strength: 5
Speed on Land: 5
Speed in Air: 0
Magical Ability: 10
Dexterity: 6
Weapon Proficiency: 5
Stealth: 2

Subspecies
Winter Fairy/Human

Abilities
Crykinesis/Hydrokinesis (Her human blood makes her power over ice and water stronger than other faeries)
Like other faeries, Aeron can speak to animals, though only two. Ravens and wolves. No other animal seems to able to hear her.

Weaknesses
*Due to her half-blooded nature and history, Aeron has weaknesses slightly different then most Fairies and humans*
First of all, she cannot fly and is in some sort of constant pain from the jagged stumps of her wings.
She is unable to practice any kind of magic besides Cryokinesis and Hydrokinesis
She is weak to iron and most other lesser metals such as copper and tin. (She can use bronze though, strangely enough)
Now the strangest twist of her birth makes healing magic useless on her. She still has no idea why it does nothing, and trying to force healing magic into her body actually causes slight necrosis in the affected area. Due to this, she also cannot heal like other faeries.

Oh, and yes, I am aware that if I get to play this character that she is an evil character and will most likely get killed. I'll be coming into the RP with that understanding and I won't be upset when her time finally comes.

Avalia

Out of curiosity Are half-breeds a thing or nah? I want to play a Half Winter Fairy-Half Human. Also, from the way the Orcs are structured there seems to be space for ritual magic in the world. Is that so?

If I can't do the half-breed thing that's cool too.

Ban the Person above you

You're banned because your avatar doesn't have an electric guitar

Sum up your week in roleplaying in just 3 words

I brought pizza!!!

Crownless King

This is my application. Want her to be some sort of Spymaster-esque character. Oh, and any instances of irony are 100% on purpose. Such as how she takes the name of Lowborn to mock the nobles, but is unknowingly a noble herself.

My Hider

Name: Elizabeth Lowborn

Age: 22

Physical Description:

Often mistaken for young man or boy, Elizabeth has almost no womanly characteristics. No doubt a result of her early life. Her skin is pale and rugged, with small scars covering her hands, feet, elbows, and knees. Despite this, she has a face that most would define as 'delicately handsome'. With smooth eyebrows, full lips, and a smallish nose. Inquisitive brown eyes constantly search her surroundings. Having grown up on the streets, Elizabeth often wears rags and long, filthy cloaks to more easily go unnoticed amidst the dregs of the Capital. Her teeth are slightly yellowed, though mostly straight, and her long, platinum hair is so caked with mud and refuse that it appears totally brown. There are several knives on her body hidden from view.

The only feminine thing about her is that she has a height of 5'4".



Personality:

Having always looked fairly masculine, Elizabeth learned at a very young age that being a man on the streets was far better than being a woman. So she styled herself as one. She walked like a man, talked like one, fought like one. In fact, there isn't a single living soul in the kingdom that knows of the name Elizabeth Lowborn. They only know of a forgettable lad by the name of Henry. Elizabeth is a rather sly character, always quick to twist her way out of an unfavorable position. She is a master of information, with her own network of beggars and merchants feeding her information about the comings and goings of other gangs and of the Highborn. Her snarky and challenging attitude to threats larger then her is the source of her mocking name of Lowborn.

Backstory:

Unknown to Elizabeth, she was not born amidst the stench and rot of the sewer roads. No, She is the daughter of two nobles, mages truly. Though they were not members of the Darkwatch. The girls mother and father are members of the synod, driven from their family's generational home of Azon by those fearmongering Darkwatch mages. Accused of treason and of consorting with remnant supporters of Daigon, Elizabeth parent's attempted to flee the capitol with their daughter. Alas, they were unsuccessful. Her mother, who carried Elizabeth in her arms, was struck down by Azon's barbed arrows. The Knights charged around the mewling child and dead mother, intent on capturing Elizabeth's fleeing father. A man who still thought his wife and daughter were right behind him. (I would like for him to reappear, but with the goal of making Azon crumble for taking his wife and daughter)

The child, still crying in her mother's cold arms, was found by a poor beggar woman. The woman, taking pity on the child raised Elizabeth as her own. With her, and the other petty thieves of the sewer streets, Elizabeth learned how to move unseen and unheard. How to pick any pocket and any lock. How to defend herself with naught but a nail, though she preferred to at least have a dagger. As she grew, Elizabeth realized that she couldn't stay in the sewer streets. They were merely too small. So she grew her territory, slowly, insidiously. By the time she was 20, Elizabeth had an informant in every room of every building in the capitol. In fact, she had even walked the very halls of the royal palace with no one the wiser. Except for maybe the prince, as they had quite literally ran into each other. But as no cry of alarm went up after that encounter, she counted it as a win.

Flaws/Strengths:

Not 100% sure what these will be, though I have some ideas.
Since both her parents were proficient mages, I want her to have a natural talent with magic, but since she has had no training she doesn't really know how to use it. So far it just manifests naturally, making her quieter, forgettable to the casual onlooker, and giving her an almost eidetic memory.

However, I also want to make her an almost Loki-ish character. Where she definitely plays both sides for her own benefit, but is more in the prince's basket than his uncle.

Other:

To be updated as we RP.

IC Sample:

My Hider

It had been almost a year since her impromptu visit to the palace. A year of pieces moving in the dark. Of innocuous words spoken in hushed whispers. Of forces readying and deals being struck.

Elizabeth sat at her desk, dressed in a fledgling merchant's garb, snagged from one of her contact's wardrobe. In her hands was several pieces of paper. Copies of reports that were scattered across the desks of several nobles of the Capitol. She was looking for anything, a word, a name, even just a misplaced letter that would let her make heads and tails of what these documents meant. They were written in code and none of her trusted advisors could break them. Which made this the most worrying thing to cross her desk since she started this whole operation. She new they were tied to the current king and his Synod mage, but what their goal was, she couldn't tell.

Frustrated, she crushed the pages together and threw them across the room. Her fire place sputtered angrily as she glared at it in impotent anger. Damn the gods! She was supposed to be the single most informed individual in the capitol and yet she couldn't crack this code. The only thing she could possibly think was that the Synod mage somehow magicked the original words and that carried over to the copies. How? She hadn't the faintest clue, but that must be it, right? With a nod, mostly to herself, though slightly to the still-sputtering fireplace, Elizabeth got up from her desk. Careful to roll up her too long trousers and sleeves (damnable men with their damnable height) She made her way to the door only to have it open up in her face.

"By the god's! Fuck shit!" Tilting her head to let the torrents of blood flow freely from her nose, Elizabeth realized she had not spoken with her standard male voice. With a start she glanced at who had opened the door and sighed in relief. It was John, one of her middle-men. He was a child of the sewer streets, like all of her middle-men, and therefore was one of the privileged few that actually knew her to be a woman. "What is it John?" She said nasally as she held a piece of cloth to her nose.

John, in his lovably dense way, responded. "Got ya lettah 'ere, Ladee." No one really knew why John spoke like that. He wasn't stupid, just slow, and had always been like that. Maybe it was the fact that they were brought into the sewer streets on the same day that had endeared them to each other, but regardless John would always be her older brother for all things that mattered. He was also, strangely enough, the only one of her middle-men that referred to her as a Lady, though he always carried the 'e' sound at the end a bit to long. Elizabeth didn't know where it started, but someone had started a rumour about there being some princess of the undercity. She had been searching for that so-called princess since the rumour started years ago, but she was still unsuccessful in that regard. There was, after all, no way it could be referring to her as she always went by the name of Henry in public. But that didn't stop John from being convinced that his little sister was some kind of princess.

"Thank you John," She whispered as she opened the letter. It was marked with a stylized 'R' at the top, which meant it was extremely urgent. As in, probably happening now. There was only one line of text on it.

The Prince is fleeing.

Elizabeth smiled.