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Post by FC4 on Jun 22, 2008 13:18:32 GMT
Characters: Approved by Host Rating: Adult Genre: Horror, Freeform-Adventure If you still wish to join, simply submit a character in the character thread and I will inform you of where you will begin. Stranded In a NightmareThe Third Era of Men has drawn to a close, and the world begins to recover from the calamity that was the Oblivion Crisis. Steadily, the economy rebuilds, and trade blossoms as material for rebuilding of homes and lives is required throughout the continent. Many have found this the perfect time to travel to find their long lost loved ones, worried their families may have been killed and needing to know their fates. Regardless of their reasons, many a person has boarded a trade ship between provinces. But with the increased trade has come increased piracy. Plot: (This section will update as the rp moves along)The Hydra found itself followed by pirates. Preparing for battle, a fog beset the ocean, and the waves disappeared mysteriously. Only thunder cut into the gloom. As the battle commenced, the pirate vessel was destroyed by a Kraken, which moved on quickly to the Hydra. Now both ships lay beneath the waves, and many sailors have lost their lives within the cold waters. But others have survived, to find themselves washed up on a beach. The Island in question features high cliffs to the south with small beaches below them, and they slope down into a gorge. This gorge surrounds a volcano that dominates the lower center of the island. A majority of the island is dense forest lined with beach. What is within these forests is a mystery. The darker the brown on the map, the higher the elevation of the rocky landscape. The forest is by no means flat. You may elaborate upon this and create as detailed a landscape as you please. Rules:-I am god. Obey no other (Except Illusionary, since she owns the place ) -Standard Rping rules apply, if I have to repeat what these are than that is a sad thing indeed. -There may be times in which I will have to take control of your character for the purpose of the plot or a particular situation. These times will be infrequent; I will try to avoid this, but keep in mind it is possible. Your character will never die or drastically change when I am controlling them. This is mainly a warning for if this does happen, but again I do not expect this to occur. -I control all NPCs, unless I say otherwise. Same rule applies for enemies. -Romance is allowed, but no porno posts please. Write your romance with class, people. Class. -This is a freeform adventure, so while the plot does exist and develop, you are free to do what you please. It is unlikely you will be able to break the plot, as it will develop as we go along. -To keep my posts smaller and less frequent than should be needed, I will give out PMs often. Every time your character sleeps, they are given a dream. You are to include the dream in your post. This will cut back on the length of my posts, and allow you to control the reactions of your character to the dream.
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Post by FC4 on Jun 23, 2008 12:42:27 GMT
Just for clarification, this is not a pirate -navy rp. We will be beginning on this ship however, and role playing the shipwreck. We'll begin when more character sheets are given.
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Post by FC4 on Jun 29, 2008 14:12:43 GMT
OOC: A new rule has been added to the OP. We will begin, put characters can still be submitted for approval. -To keep my posts smaller and less frequent than should be needed, I will give out PMs often. Every time your character sleeps, you are to include the dream in your post. This will cut back on the length of my posts, and allow you to control the reactions of your character to the dream.
IC: The salty air whipped at the sails of the Hydra, as her arrow-like hull slashed into the ocean crests and deep blue surface. The wooden mass rose and fell as it came over the small open-water waves, making transversing the decks difficult for any who were still gaining their sea legs.
The captain, Murrin Darcen, was not such a person. He had gained his sea legs long, long ago; before he had entered manhood. Now the middle-aged Redguard stood at the bow of his ship, looking out across the calm ocean as the sun glittered off the water. His arms were crossed over his chest in a decisively military fashion. The military look was aided by the navy blue jacket he wore over dark studded leather breastplate with steel studs the size of a coin and equally thick. Tucked into the long sleeves of his captain's jacket were the forearms of leather gloves that covered his hands.
His coat tail fluttered about his thighs as the ocean breeze rustled it, the cloth waving around the scabbards of two cutlasses at his hips. He turned towards the stern of the ship, analyzing the sails with a quick glance of dark brown eyes, and then nodding to his wheel man.
"Ten degrees port." He ordered, his voice cutting into the smacking of the sails and chatter of the sailors to clearly reach its destination, and the sailor turned the wheel accordingly. The ship began to turn, but one without naval experience would see no difference between the horizon of before, and the horizon now. All was an expanse of sea, and nothing more.
But they were heading to the Iliac.
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Post by Vrek on Jul 1, 2008 2:53:27 GMT
Scourge of the Iliac, indeed. Jacin sighed, watching the endless rippling water. Eight days had he been on this bloody ship, not even a sight of a merchant ship. Nothing but endless bloody water. With a groan he fell back on a few sacks of something-or-other, and looked towards the sky.
His view was obstructed by the three masts of the schooner he was on. The ship was a sleek three masted schooner, built for speed. There was no flag, pretty much shouting out to the whole world, "Hey, look! I'm a pirate vessel!" But what did he know? He'd only been here for a week, he didn't know anything about pirating. Well, atleast there were no cliche accents or false appendages.
The crew of the ship, The Bael, seemed to be handy enough. At manning a ship anyways. A few carried swords of some sort, but Jacin could only wonder how good they'd be at keeping him alive and putting drakes in his pocket.
With a groan he lazily tossed an arm over his eyes, blocking out the sunlight. This definitely was not his career of choice. The air was too salty, the horizon was too flat. The food was too... rat infested. The cat they brought disapeared on the second day. He suspected it was the... what did he call himself? The... Ashlander? He suspected that the Ashlander ate it or something.
With a yawn Jacin did his whole-hearted best to doze off. He might as well get some shut-eye before they got on him for not doing anything around the ship.
Not that there was much to do. Apparently, 'scourging the Iliac' was a lot less exciting then they made it sound.
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Post by FC4 on Jul 2, 2008 22:46:21 GMT
OOC: I would kinda like everyone to make opening posts, interact with one another, etc, before I toss the action in. You know, kinda set the stage before the performance?
If you are having difficulty with an OP send me a PM.
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Post by Tom Bombadil on Jul 6, 2008 3:36:28 GMT
Three Hours Earlier
The wooden planks that made up the room's walls and ceiling seemed to meld and swirl in Aldarilon's vision. The single lantern that hung from a rope in the center of the ceiling glowed brilliantly, and when looking at it, the Altmer felt like he was looking into the sun's glory.
He sat against the wall of a room in the lower levels of the Hydra that appeared to be storage for crates and rope, from what Aldarilon's distorted judgment could tell. He wore a laughing grin as he stared up at the lantern, watching the purple fireflies weave in and out of the surrounding cheerful worms hanging from the ceiling. His hands were at his sides on the floor, a long-forgotten skooma pipe lying next to one of them.
Seated across from him was an equally enlightened Imperial woman, who was touching her head with an expression of revelation. Aldarilon blinked and looked down at the other, still laughing uncontrollably. "We..." he said between sets of laughs, "we are so on the boat...!" The Imperial did a double take at a spot on the floor. "I know...I know..." Neither of them dared move an inch, for if they did, something terrible would happen in Valenwood.
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Now
Aldarilon woke with a start, shortly before closing his eyes again, blinded and disoriented by the light given off by a nearby lantern on the little nightstand next to him. Finally he cracked his eyelids open so little that he could still hardly see anything. From what he could see, he was in his cabin. And that was all he was really concerned about at the moment. My head....what did I d- oh, right. Closing his eyes, he rolled over in his bed after taking a quick drink of a pale blue substance in a vial on the nightstand beside him. He slowly felt the aftereffects of the skooma wearing off. Slightly.
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Post by webster52402 on Jul 7, 2008 17:28:39 GMT
Ah, the salty air of the sea, wafting around him... The sound of the waves as they lapped against the side of the Hydra, in a gentle, repetitive pattern, that would undoubtedly rock a baby to sleep. The rocking of the boat itself, as it sliced through the emerald waters, a spray of ocean water wafting up the hull to settle gently over the crew as they worked....
Perur hated it. He hated that he was stuck on this boat, that he was forced to remain on this little ship while it made its way through the ocean, he hated that he had to be surrounded by water at all times, he hated that he had all his usual grace removed from him by the rocking ship, staggering like he was drunk all over the boat... He HATED that deep, deep ocean that surrounded the boat, hated the idea of the crushing depths that awaited him should he fall into its expanse, the thought of what lay within it to greet him...
A small shiver ran over him, as he gripped the railing of the boat, staring down at the water. Though he may be afraid of it, he most certainly wasn't going to take his eyes off of it. Indeed, his gaze was locked to an extent that it made it seem that he was expecting it to try some kind of ambush move should he turn his back on it for more than a few seconds. As though if he began to try and go anywhere but that railing, it would suddenly sweep up the hull to drag him, screaming, into the water to be crushed deep down in the inky blackness of its innermost depths, surrounded by creatures both strange and deadly...
"I hate sailing..." Perur muttered underneath his breath, as his watery legs struggled to steady themselves, keeping him just barely from flipping over the railing to fall in himself. But, he had to go where he had to go, and his next target awaited him across the sea... He just wished that he could WALK there.
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Post by Vicorva on Jul 8, 2008 14:40:02 GMT
Semiramis was stood nearby Perur, a little ways off staring out into the sea. She had left off her cloak and hood, enjoying the feeling of the salty sea air against her skin and the wind in her hair.
She was certainly an unusual looking woman, with her horns, her jeweled skin and unusual colouring. Few realised she was a dunmer until she said so, and even then were suspicious. But while as a child she had been awkward and hideous-looking, she now had her own, very unique beauty, wearing her looks as if she were made to perfection rather than by mistake.
She was still wearing her armour, the mithril light and flexible, as comfortable as skin to the woman who was so used to wearing it.
She looked over at Perur, an amused expression on her face, her red eyes mirthful. "You look a little green around the edges, there," she commented cheerfully.
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Post by webster52402 on Jul 10, 2008 14:13:05 GMT
"Odd, I would have thought I would have moved beyond green by now." Perur muttered a response, his voice slightly muffled by his arms, as he had his head resting between them on the railing. Though many may enjoy sailing, Perur was most certainly not one of those people. Though, judging from the way that whomever it was that had just spoken to him had sounded, she, for the voice had been feminine, certainly was.
Trying to contain the wave of vertigo that came from raising his head out of his arms, he fixed the woman that had spoken to him with a weary gaze. Usually, he would be stunned by her jewel-like skin, the exotic beauty that she held, and the stark contrast to how Perur pictured... Well, anyone, despite the red eyes that marked her as a Dunmer. However, the only thing that Perur really minded about the way she looked at the moment was the fact that light reflected off the jeweled surface of her skin, making the pulsing throb behind his eyes that much worse.
He ignored that for now, though, turning ponderously to rest his back against the railing. Maybe if he didn't look at the sea, he wouldn't be so affected by it... Though, it wasn't really helping, as the ship seemed to mock him by mimicking the motions of the waves exactly, reminding him endlessly that he was on a boat, in the middle of his most hated element: Water. "Thank you for the concern, though, Mrs...?" He inquired, again fixing the strange bejewelled Dunmer with his weary look.
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Post by Vicorva on Jul 10, 2008 14:22:02 GMT
Semira had sensed the imperial's eyes on her, but hadn't looked around, not really wanting to see his reaction to her odd appearance. She avoided meeting people's eyes until they had time to get used to her, usually. She disliked shock and disgust, as a whole- which is what she expected, since she'd come up with the rule when she was a kid and still looked quite demonic. "It's miss," she said firmly, "And my name's Semira." She didn't like to give her full name, since it shamed her family that she was such a being- and frankly, becoming a Nightblade had done little to help. She glanced at the imperial through the corner of her eyes, and was pleased to find that he was looking away- either recovering from the shock of being faced with her, or still feeling quite queasy. Probably both... she thought, amused. "I can probably spell your stomach to calmness. I'm not much of a healer, but I know a few tricks. 'Course, when the spell wears off, you either get another one or get sick again, this time without time to get used to it. Your choice." She shrugged. OOC: EDITED. *blushes* Don't know where I got dunmer from, sorry webster.
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Post by webster52402 on Jul 10, 2008 14:37:33 GMT
OOC: Perur's an Imperial, not a Dunmer, IN. IC: Perur let out a relieved laugh, as Semira offered to calm his stomach through the use of a simple spell. "That would be very much appreciated, Semira... I'm not used to losing my balance like this, at the least not without a bit of drink in me." A bitter smile crossed his lips at these words. He actually didn't drink at all, it wasn't in his nature to do so. But, it was best to keep up appearances. "Ah, how rude of me though to be asking things of you without introducing myself in return..." Perur said, almost as an afterthought. Which was fitting, since that had been precisely what it had been. "My name is Perur."
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Post by FC4 on Jul 10, 2008 14:46:45 GMT
OOC: I am waiting for Raven to Op, before I begin the action.
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Post by Vicorva on Jul 10, 2008 17:02:06 GMT
OOC: Semira, not Samira, webster! IC: Semira shrugged. "Was a bit rude, yeah," she replied, clearly not bothered either way. She didn't go through any pleasantries like 'pleased to meet you', since she figured life was too short to waste on being unnecessarily polite. She reached across and rested two fingers on Perur's arm, both of them glowing faintly blue around the edges as she settled his stomach. She removed her fingers, turning to look at him now as she said, "What exactly are you?" She shifted, her red gaze curious. "You have a bit of a look of a Nightblade to you- I'm fairly experienced at that look- but you don't look like that much of a heavy spell-user." She paused, and added, almost as an afterthought, "Forgive me for asking," which was fitting, because that was exactly what it was.
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Post by webster52402 on Jul 10, 2008 17:55:07 GMT
OOC: Hmmm, don't know why, but Samira rolls off my fingers a bit better. Sorry, IN. IC: Perur raised an eyebrow at Semira's half-hearted response to him, as though her attention were focused elsewhere, her mind airy and light-hearted. At least, that was the case until after she had settled his stomach for him, granting a much needed relief that Perur would be hard to come by on this Gods-forsaken ship. As he finally regained his balance and felt his nausea and vertigo slip away from him, Semira became a bit more intense in her questioning, pausing her roundabout route to become far more blunt, asking Perur outright what it was that he did. She mentioned a Nightblade, which Perur assumed was what she was, and was rather close in her assessment of him. However, simply coming out and telling people 'Oh, I'm an assassin for a living, nice to meet you.' is a good way to get you killed. So instead, Perur stiffened slightly, looking at Semira out of the corner of his eye. She had admitted to being a Nightblade, a kind of adventurer that relied on magic and stealth, which meant that she had few ties to the law. Judging from her appearance, which was rather unusual, she would be outcast from normal society, and thus likely would find herself less than respected by both the Legion and society at large. This may have colored her morals to be a bit more accepting of darker shades of people, when she herself seemed to be classified as one. Though Perur himself viewed her differently. Instead of judging her as a freak of some kind, he simply saw uniqueness and the potential that lay therein, as he was trained to do. An assassin does not judge... They read. After this quick assessment of her, done within a few seconds, Perur turned towards her. He still wasn't going to say outright just what he did, that would be foolish, but he supposed he could at the least give her a roundabout glimpse of what he was capable of. "I have much the same skills in stealth as a Nightblade, though I am far more skilled in archery and close quarters combat, usually with daggers. You could classify me as a hunter, I suppose." Perur said vaguely. This bit of skill sounded much along the lines of a hunter, but when you thought about it, was that not precisely what an assassin was? A hunter of men and beast, stalking and slaying their quarry over time and over vast amounts of land, and in this next target's case, water, to deliver the perfect, quick kill... A hunter indeed.
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Post by Vicorva on Jul 10, 2008 18:06:02 GMT
Semira was not quite as air-headed as she appeared: though she planned little, she was very aware of what was happening around her, and she did not fail to notice him stiffen at her questioning. Her diplomacy training kicked in as she recognised this to mean that he didn't want to answer... and thus was hiding something.
Before he even gave her an answer, her mind processed what he was: an assassin or bounty hunter, most likely, since he looked to be a Nightblade and yet was more protective of his identity.
His next words, obviously carefully chosen, confirmed her thoughts. "Lot of work for hunters, with the world in the state its in," she replied blandly, knowing that her words held more truth for an assassin than a mere hunter. "I suppose that's why your on board here? Looking for new game?"
It wasn't often she chose to use the skill she'd learned from the cradle, the give and take between those who knew how to look beneath the surface of things, but her instincts warned her against being too open about such a sensitive matter.
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