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Post by Uglius Maximus on Jun 28, 2010 22:45:40 GMT
Characters: Must be approved by creator Content Rating: Adult Genre: Action/Adventure
Setting [/size]During the Oblivion Crisis, hundreds of thousands are made homeless or loose their jobs, and afterwards the council finds itself in a financial crisis as they try to pay for the damages of the war.
One of the decrees made to save money is to disarm and discharge dozens of the military regiments, as they are no longer needed to safeguard Cyrodiil. Even though poverty is prominent in Cyrodiil, things are looking brighters. Cities and towns are getting rebuilt, and businesses not affected by the Oblivion Crisis find themselves going quite well. This seems like a new morning after night for those with jobs, but for the poor and homeless things aren't changing to the better; a clear division is visible between rich and poor in Cyrodiil, one that hasn't been spotted before in many generations.
Violence is rising in many towns, both simple theft and organised gang violence is commonsight in the town nightlife. People cry out for security and those with the money will pay whoever can grant them and their businesses safety and predictability. Those without money suffer under the lawlessness and anarchy of the gangs. A wealthy businessman heeds their prayers, one by the name of Rupert Lloyd. This wealthy benefactor has a plan to end the violence and crime.
Putting all his money and wealth into the plan, he creates the Freelance Mercenary Guild, and hires every capable hand he can muster, hundres of people sign the charter, former soldiers, farmers, mages, explorers and everyone inbetween are hired. The guild accepts any job, as long as the pay is good, whether it'd be policing a neighborhood or getting rid of local gangs. Glad to finally be working, the employees get started without questions and within months of the Freelance Mercenary Guild's birth, crime has already decreased by a massive percent. ------------------
Pre-Opening Post
It has now been 2 years since the Oblivion Crisis, the world is still poverty striken and crime is still on a record high, for whatever reason, you recently joined the F.M.G in Chorrol, you quickly rose to the rank of Member and you are now waiting for notice of a new assignment which you have asked for. To answer your wishes, a piece of parchment is pushed underneath your door, the wax emblem of the Chorrol Freelance Mercenary Guild is embedded onto it, eagerly, you read:
"Dear Member, It is our wish to inform you that you have been offered the placement for a contract with the Freelance Mercenary Guild. If you wish to accept the Contract, simply head to the Guild Hall in Chorrol and speak to Protector Jin by the 20th of Second Seed. She will inform you of your Mission, Payment and answer any questions you may have surrounding the mission.
We look forward to working with you in the near future.
With Respect Master Vladius"
Todays date is the 20th of Second Seed
-------------- Overview
In this RP, you take control of a character that has joined the F.M.G, the purpose of this RP is to go through a series of missions with the other characters, interact and gain rank and prestige in the guild, the missions themselves will not be simple, they will have plots and parts for your characters to grow and change.
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What is the Freelance Mercenary Guild?
A guild that recently appeared from ex-soldiers, people who had lost their jobs to the Oblivion Crisis and were looking for money. The FMG itself is less "Official" than the Fighters Guild who often has to stay within the limits of the law. The FMG operates both outside the law and within it, depending on the mission.
For that reason, it has been extremely successful within cults and so forth who need to hire some extra muscle for work. However, the FMG is certainly not just a "Muscle For Hire" guild, since taking people from all walks of life - They're able to expand and they deal in trading, investigations, assassinations, thievery and occasionally, they're hired to police neighbourhoods.
Normally, an organisation like this would be torn down by the Imperial Legion, except, the FMG has ties to both Military and Political leaders, making it a very influencial guild. One that is accepted by the local populas as a nessecity, but it's certainly not liked nor are it's members openly accepted.
The current guild leader of the FMG is a Breton named Rupert Lloyd, a businessman who saw a need for the FMG after the events of the Oblivion Crisis.
Like the Fighters Guild, the FMG employ a ranking system, starting with: Accepted, Member, Apprentice, Agent, Adept, Sergeant, Captain, Protector, Master, Grand Master.
Getting from Accepted to Adept is fairly quick, due to the high death rate of their employee's, the FMG thought it best to offer an incentive to take on the missions. Obviously, getting from Sergeant to Captain is alot slower, there are very few people in these ranks and often it's only hardened soldiers, mages, or the very lucky few that make it.
The guilds houses' are stationed in each major city including the Imperial City. With each Guild House having a Master.
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Post by Uglius Maximus on Jun 28, 2010 23:28:10 GMT
Reg fiddled with the cap of his flask, he was sitting down in the entrance of the guild hall one of the wooden benches that lined the well lit and heavily decorated wall. He stared at the paintings that were hung, they weren't exquisite, nor were they well done, but they gave the building an air of sophistication which was to be expected from any establishment in Chorral.
His eyes slowly drifted towards a person sitting across him, a young argonian who had a scarred nose and a missing ear. Reg didn't wince or find it weird, infact - It was comforting, he'd always been surrounded by people with scars or combat experience, and this argonian was beginning to relax him. He smiled awkwardly when they met eyes, the argonian simply blinked and looked away - Putting Reg back into a bleak mood.
He couldn't help but feel worried about his next assignment - So many people died in this guild doing these missions, but he was Reg, he'd been through this before, it was going to be fine.. Right? He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead and ran a hand through his shabby beard - I should've shaved. he thought, wiping the hand against his cloth trousers. The guild door opened and an armoured man walked in, his right gauntlet was coated in dry blood and his chest plate had a smeared, bloody hand print. Reg took a large gulp from his flask and sighed heavily, noticing how the Argonian had eyed him nervously as he did so. He felt better now, thoughts of saving civilians from criminals or trapped hostages from villages flooded him and he smiled, he was ready for it now - He couldn't wait to get in there and hell, if he could become an officer in the Legion, why couldn't he become an officer in this guild?!
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Post by Elgen on Jul 1, 2010 15:09:49 GMT
Nikolai was buried beneath the shady accounts of the guild at his desk when he suddenly heard a decisive knock on his office door. Nothing unfamiliar, there were always people asking for money, coming in with their hats in their hands with a hopeful look. However, this knock sounded very unlike their feeble attempts of feigned courage. This sounded like someone important.
"Enter" Nikko said as he contemplated who'd visit him in the middle of his calculations. He jotted down a few numbers on a clean patch of paper before looking up at the newcomer. A seasoned man entered. Nikko wouldn't call him old, for this man could probably twist his back like a twig, but he'd seen far more years than Nikko had. The man was Officer Marcus, one of the higher ups in the guild.
"What can I do for you today, sir?" Nikko asked, motioning to the man to sit in the chair opposite his desk. "I've got you new orders from the leader. You must read them and do exactly what they say. It's of great importance for the guild. And well suited a man such as yourself." Marcus said after he shook his head to Nikko's friendly offer of a chair. Marcus laid an envelope onto the desk and turned. "You'll give a report once you've returned" he said, and left Nikko to ponder his meaning.
Nikko questioned the man's words no longer than to reach the envelope and open it. The instructions inside were written in Rupert Lloyd's floating hand writing, and had his signature below. Nikko read in silence, becoming more and more anxious as to what this mission meant to him. He would have to leave his place here, and venture out into the horrors of the world, again. With a sigh, Nikko raised and put the letter into his back pocket. This certainly would complicate things...
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Cirith
Apprentice
Roleplaying mad genius
Posts: 59
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Post by Cirith on Jul 1, 2010 22:02:25 GMT
While walking over the Great Oak plaza Cith noticed how the streets around the great oak were filled with the people of Chorrol busy with meeting friends or doing business at the symbol of the city. It was also where all the guild-members of the various guilds in Chorrol walked between their business in their guildhalls and wherever they rented a room or had set up camp. Most guildhalls were not very impressive, like the thin, elongated house for the weavers guild or their neighbours, the carpenters guild of Chorrol. However near the Northern gate were the larger buildings of the magesguild and the fightersguild, and mockingly close to those was the guildhall of the F.M.G. each building stood high and wide at the great oak plaza showing the might these guilds had, even though some weren't happy about the new guild that had claimed it place next to the grand guildhalls of Chorrol. As Cith Devoldes walked to the guildhall with his orders in his hand he noticed the armour clad men at the fighters guild entrance, their expressions were more than enough to convey the message of unwelcome to Cith, that didn't stop them from slinging a few insults at him as he walked up to the door, Cith paid no attention to them, it had been worse a month ago when he first stepped through these doors. "Fool" "traitor" "honourless" they called Cith. But Cith always knew that this guild was the invader, the outsider. He knew of the shady background the guild had and the risks of their missions. but he also knew why so many joined this guild and why it did what Blackwood company and the fighters guild never could, the people who joined this Freelance Mercenary guild were driven to regain the glory of their lives, at any cost. The simple motivation of these soldiers and mercenaries was enough to rise above the fightersguild. But Cith guessed the guildmaster also had a few other ways to keep business flowing to the guild with his own talents.
As he opened the door he remembered the first day he walked here with a similar order in his hands summoning him to report for a mission. The guildhall was a bit more crowded that day but still today he could see a variety of soldiers, mercenaries and magicians in the waiting room and throughout the main corridor. He could spot a redguard in mithril armor, a dunmer woman, a couple of nords at the bar "very stereotypical" an orc in dwemer armour and an argonian near the entrance, he could also see plenty of imperials in their own steel plated armour which looked like they just had come back from a mission of their own. When he asked the guild porter about his orders he was told to wait for further instruction by an official. It was not like his last mission where he was almost instantly kicked out the door to head straight for Anvil where they needed to exterminate a goblin nest that was becoming a problem for the local farmers. Cith decided to find a seat near the entrance as he wanted to keep an eye on the staircase to the offices upstairs where no doubt someone would be who knew what he had to do next would come from, eventually. He took another look around him and noticed with whom he shared this part of the hallway with; an argonian sat next to him a few feet away and across from him was an imperial with a look of a drunkard; flask in his hand with a telling smell of alcohol around it, unshaven and greasy hair that looked like it hadn’t been washed in some time already. Clearly he wasn’t at his best these days. Likely someone who was kicked out the fightersguild, or perhaps a former legionnaire who took his early retirement a bit too hard. Cith didn’t really care what he had been through, as long as he wasn’t going to cause trouble.
When the imperial met Cith’s gaze the dunmer smiled briefly and returned his gaze once more to the staircase in anticipation of someone who would give him the mission details. When there still was no sight of anything interesting he let out a brief sigh out as he started fiddling with his bow in his hands out of boredom…
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Post by halftooth on Jul 4, 2010 17:34:24 GMT
Ethila Sarethi opened her eyes and looked around to discover where she'd been sleeping all night. It appeared she had been sleeping on the grass behind a tavern, she shut her eyes and let her head fall back to the ground with a small bump. Etha lay with her eyes closed while she gathered her thoughts. Last night had been so much fun. There had definately been some brandy involved. Lots and lots of brandy. She breathed in deeply and smelt something sweet. Sweet? Moon sugar? You were eating moon sugar last night. she told herself as she sat up and opened her eyes again. And you should probably find some water to drink. Her stomach grumbled, alerting her to the fact that she was feeling quite queasy and dehydrated. So much suagr.... She stood up slowly and lent against the wall of the tavern to steady herself as her head throbbed. Find some water, find some water. she let her feet guide her, although she wasn't sure where they were taking her until she looked up and saw the guild hall to the Freelance Mercenary Guild. Curses, I'm meant to be receiving my next assignment today. She pushed open the front door and stumbled neatly into one of the chairs against the wall. Good god my head hurts. Etha closed her eyes tightly as rolls of nausea hit her. When they passed she got up and downed several glasses of water before sitting back on the chair again.
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Post by Chaos 303030 on Jul 6, 2010 5:28:26 GMT
Eij grunted, rolling out of his bed and onto the hard, uneven dirt floor of his Chorrol shack. Slum life wasn't good, but he'd needed a quick move to Chorrol so he had easy access to the guild. He rubbed the scales between his eyes with one hand, feeling the his back with the other. The last job the Guild pushed out on him was dealing with a Necromancer operating out of some broken down Abbey. They'd sent greenhorns with him, and Eij was the only survivor. He shuddered, rising to his feet and getting dressed.
Ten minutes later, Fin was striding out into the bright streets of Chorrol in full battle attire, the fur cape flowing behind him. The homeless looked at him bitterly, admiring his apparently rich armor and gleaming sword, while the aristocracts he passed merely looked at him with the disdain they afforded all outside of their social circle. For the most part, though, most just ignored him and kept their heads down while he made his way to the Guild hall. He sighed, realizing that it would be just another day where they'd just shove more blood onto his hands. He was sick of it.
Eij pushed open the doors, walking in. Whatever issues he had with it, Fin would always admit that it brought people together; you could see people of any race, creed, profession, and social standing, coming together to make just a bit more money. He sat in his regular seat, taking out a simple pipe with some tobacco in it, and waiting for...well, waiting for whatever came next.
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Post by Uglius Maximus on Jul 6, 2010 15:07:37 GMT
Adamus Vladius strolled through the upper halls of the F.M.G guild in Chorrol, his heavy boots making a quiet thud on the carpetted floors. He stopped infront of the office of Nickolai, one of the guilds' better accountants, he knocked 3 times, "Nick, it's me." he called out and stepped through, not waiting for permission to enter. He waltzed in, a slight smile stretched across his smug face, "Ahh, Nick, good of you to be around - No doubt you've been informed of your new assignment and I'm here to tell you that I'm about to call the first meeting, you should report to Briefing Room 3 now." He ordered, turned around and walked out. Truth be told - He didn't really like Nickolai that much, he was far too sarcastic and usually made jokes Adamus couldn't understand - Besides, hit and run approaches made him feel much more powerful.
He reached the top of the staircase leading down to the ground floor of the F.M.G and shouted: "Cith, Regulus, Eij and Ethila! Report to Briefing Room 3, immediately!!" his voice boomed around the guild hall and members stopped what they were doing so they could see who it was that was called.
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Reg stood up slowly, it was difficult to stand up after sitting down in his armour and it clinked uncomfortably, he made his way towards the secretary desk, "Excuse me, you don't know where Briefing Room 3 is, do you?" He asked curiously, he'd only ever been to one and he couldn't recall it's name. "Oh yes, it's 3rd room on the right once you get up the stairs." Replied a well dressed nord, his obvious discomfort with Reg annoyed the ex legionnaire so he moved on and headed up the stairs which creaked loudly under his weight.
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Post by halftooth on Jul 7, 2010 14:02:37 GMT
"Oh god." Etha moaned, clutching her head as someone barked orders at her from the top of the stairs. She sat perfectly still for a few moments waiting for the nausea to pass for some reason the smell of the wooden chair was really making her feel ill. Get up Etha, you've got an assignment to do. she told herself before staggering to her feet and folowing heading up the stairs. As she walked she found herself piecing together what she had gotten up to the previous night. She had been sat on a table, not on the seats, in an inn and she was pretty certain she had been entertaining everybody with stories. Stories from her own life, slightly exagerated of course for dramatic effect.There had been a constant supply of drinks as well, since nobody wanted her to stop talking. Even the owner of the inn stayed open much longer than usual, not wanted to waste the oppertunity to keep people drinking and take more money than he usually did.
Etha chuckled to herself, she told them of the time when she had gotten into a bit of a mess at a daedric shrine back in Morrowind and how she had amanged to talk her way out of everything without directly hurting anyone. Yes... it had been a very good night although she could not for the life of her remember how moon sugar would come into it all. Oh yes! I remember, that khajiit at the bar had given me some instead of buying me a drink. It didn't really get you as high as Skooma did, but the effects were still noticable. Everything was just really funny, it increased your movement speed and made your thoughts race, like eating too much normal sugar only more extreme. The only downsides were that it gave you an incredibly dry mouth and a huge headache.
Etha ran her tongue over her teeth, even after all the water she'd drunk her mouth was so dry. Well you'll just have to wait until the breifing is over. She scolded herself as she made her way into room 3 and sat down, waiting to hear what needed to be done.
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Cirith
Apprentice
Roleplaying mad genius
Posts: 59
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Post by Cirith on Jul 13, 2010 11:22:45 GMT
As the orders were shouted down the stairs summoning Cith and his soon to be partners to the third briefing room Cith watched the movement as others went to the stairs as well to the briefing room. from the names he could recall Regulus which was obviously an imperial name, no doubt the man who had asked where the briefing room was, and although the other names had quickly slipped his memory he could at least see the lady who has entered after him and the argonian he'd seen were also heading for the stairs. Cith thought that out of all three of them, the argonian looked like the most capable fighter of them, likely someone who knows what he's doing by joining this guild rather than some desperate farmers trying to make some money the fast way.
Without a word but with confidence and a relaxed attitude he followed the others up the stairs to the briefing room Of course this would not be like the goblins, but Cith was confident that he'd make it through their missions. He took a seat near the imperial and waited for the rest to take their seats. "Let's see what they have in store for us..."
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Post by Uglius Maximus on Jul 14, 2010 17:08:19 GMT
Reg entered the room clumsily, bumping his foot against one of the table legs, "Damnit." he grumbled and quickly sat down, wincing slightly at how uncomfortable it was to sit in armour. He took a deep breath and surveyed the room around him, it wasn't a large room, rectangular in shape with a large table in the middle so it was difficult to walk around the edges. The table itself was decorated with a large map of Tamriel, including all the provinces. Without thinking, Reg began to look at it, his finger tracing a road from one town to another.
He looked up again and was about to ask where the Adamus was, the man was the usual mission giver and he could've sworn he heard his voice calling him, but before he could get his words out, a side door opened and in strolled Adamus himself, he was donned in a blue robe and a sword on his side, "Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, please, be seated." He stated, waving to the chairs dotted along the mapped table, "We will wait for the others before we begin ofcourse, but first off, please, introduce yourselves, let's start with you Regulus."
Reg nodded and let the Dunmer sit next to him before he stood up to introduce himself, "My name is Regulus, but most people call me Reg." He then let out a wide smile which was partially hidden underneath his facial hair and sat down. Adamus nodded, "Thankyou Reg, Cith, please introduce yourself." he added, turning to the dunmer that had seated himself next to Reg.
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Cirith
Apprentice
Roleplaying mad genius
Posts: 59
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Post by Cirith on Jul 15, 2010 9:28:52 GMT
As everyone took their seat Adamus told them to wait for others and to introduce themselved, he started with the imperial Regulus, Cith noted no other details given and was second to introduce himself to the other three mercenaries he'd be working with on this mission.
"I am Citharion Devoldes, but by all means just call me Cith, I never liked the full name. I look forward to working with you all" Nothing fancy, no theatrics or anything, just a simple statement and a kind smile. Seeing as Regulus didn't include any details other than his name Cith didn't bother to elaborate on the other subjects like profession or background either. There'd be plenty of time for that later when he got a better idea of what these people were like. He looked to his left and presumed next in line would be the dunmer woman. she looked like she had a rough night or perhaps was ill, but did not look as bad as Regulus does so Cith guessed she just had a bit too much mead last night or something.
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Post by sibera on Jul 15, 2010 16:13:14 GMT
Kareth was in the middle of his training ground, practicing his maneuvers. A high elf messenger had come to him and was watching, somewhat impatiently as the Khajiiti would be monk seemed to assault various target dummies. The katana blade sliced through them elegantly as if they were made of paper. "Uhh..Excuse me Do'Kareth!" the altmer finally called out in impatience, this was unfortunately to his detriment as Kareth spun around from an elegant dance like half spin, his blade coming down slicing a tall dummy melon head in half and taking a good portion of the Gold hair of the high elf as well, had his ear been a centimeter higher he would have lost the tip. Kareth stood from his crouching position and spun the blade, sliding it up and into its sheathe on his back.
His fiery eyes looked up at the elf whom by now was most pale. "I have told people not to interrupt me while I train. Least your head suffers a split. Whats the issue?" he asked brushing himself down.
"A..set of orders for you.." he stammered before stareing at the gold locks of hair that were so effortlessly removed in a rather awkward slant. He quickly handed Do'kareth the order slip and bolted off, rubbing at the bald spot on his head. Kareth couldn't help but laugh as he read the orders, since he was already ready for most missions the Black furred Khajiit walked out from the large garden plot of land, shaking his head at the burnt-out spot where his Family Villa once stood. It was a sad sight to be seen, especially amongst some of the richer houses that stood on either side of course he loved how the rich nobles often tried buying the land off him and he turned them down. He headed for the hall, which was positioned ironicly close to the mages and fighters guilds. Heading inside, avoiding a few looks from the others as he headed up the stairs.
Quietly the khajiit knocked on the door to the briefing room before walking in and taking a seat down alittle away from the rest. As he adjusted his weapon so the handle didn't dig into the seating cushion.
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Post by halftooth on Jul 26, 2010 19:52:15 GMT
Etha listened carefully to Reg and Cith. Neither of them said much about themselves. Why were they being secretive? Sharing a little bit of vague information about yourself wasn't that difficult. Suddenly she realised everyone in the room was waiting for her to talk, she'd been so cuahgt up in her own thoughts she hadn't noticed. Pretending she was completely cool with keeping everyone waiting she stood up slowly. "This feels silly doesn't it," She grinned casually "And awkward, well my name is Elitha Sarethi, Call me Etha. I'll probably be the main magic user on this mission. I'll watch your backs if you watch mine." And with that she sat down again, feeling somewhat eager to learn what they would actually be doing.
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