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flamingfoxx

"I fear the day is approaching when we will no longer see the light of day amidst the smoke from the burning bodies, when we will no longer hear the wondrous sounds of nature amid the tortured cries of the dying, when we can no longer drink our water from the blood that stains it red. The day is approaching, and you, all of you are the cause! You quarrel and fight over nothing, you are bringing upon yourself your own demise. Your victories are merely progressing the end! You are all fools! FOOLS!......"

~ Josephey Caradel (Amid the stripping of his right as King)

The land of Cara has been enveloped in chaos. Millions die every day, chaos covers every kingdom, house, temple and every part of the land. But no one seems to pay any attention to it, the religious fanatics that make up more than half the population care only about their so called Immortal and murdering whoever does not follow him/her. Whoever takes a side will be killed by whoever opposes them, and whoever does not choose is murdered. There is no peace, no law, there is only their Immortal, and nothing else. The land of Cara is all but lost, all that remains that can restore peace and order to the land is the empty throne that the lost King Caradel sat. The land of Cara is in dire need of a king, the chosen one of Caradel, they need the Sylverlite.

Information:
If you didn't quite understand from the above paragraph it'll be explained here. If you have any questions not answered here feel free to ask.

Setting:
The land of Cara, a large land filled with sloping hills, roaring rivers, and large mountain tops. Though every where you turn there is chaos as the different followers of the immortals battle for their "diety".

Timeline:
The rp is set in medieval times, meaning no guns, no futuristic weapons, nothing like that. If you are wondering about things such as magic I will simply tell you that magic is not common. It is very hard to find and train in, meaning you cannot have any mages or wizards or what not. Though magic will still be a factor.

Your role in the Civil War:
You are what is nicknamed by "believers" a Wanderer. You have no Immortal you follow, you take no side, you merely survive. You are hated by the "believers" and most anyone unlike you. Though your long periods of isolation has taught you a thing or two about fighting, and the art of swordplay to an extent where you are experienced in many forms of combat, whether it be shield and sword, dual weapons, archery, etc.

Immortals/Believers:
The "Immortals" are a race of forgotten gods and goddesses mentioned in the tales of old that common "Believers" have come to worship. It is unkown if these "Immortals" exist. The following Immortals each have their own cult of "Believers".

Name - Gender - Following - Info.

Genitiva - Male - Cult of Genitiva - The largest of the cults, the Cult of Genitiva has made their impression on the land of Cara. This Cult, though not the most violent, is predominently located in major cities and mostly hold high positions such as Lords, Barons, etc.

Holl - Male - Sons of the Fallen - The most violent, and dangerous of the cults, the Sons of the Fallen have made an impression upon Cara by the large numbers they have murdered. They are the smallest of the cults, though they by far do the most damage.

Ailiea - Female - Sisters of the High Priest - The most peace loving of the cults, composed entirely of women. Most females belong to this cult, making it impossible to pinpoint it's exact location in Cara.

Serpentuous - Male - Raiders of the Waves - They control the entire Serridean Sea, making travel to other lands nearly impossible unless you belong to them. They are merchants and bandits, merely using the Immortal Serpentuous as a cover up for their large illegal goods business.

Theridias - Unkown - Beasts of the High Order - They are one of the smallest cults, the Sons of the Fallen the only ones lower then them. They are brave, powerful warriors, living among the forests of Cara, not abiding to any law, only that of their own. Their immortal is depicted as neither man nor woman but as a beast, a powerful animal.

Sylverlite:
The heir to the throne left behind by King Caradel. His/her location is unkown. Your goal is to find this Sylverlite, to put him/her on the throne to restore order.

Other:
This rp is going to be a dark medieval fantasy rp, meaning it isn't going to be a happy go lucky fairy tale but a serious, violent medieval rp where betrayel abounds. As stated above, Magic will play a part in this rp, as will mythological elements and creatures, though don't expect this rp to be full of this, only certain parts will. To answer any questions ahead of time, NO ONE except with authorization by me, can be a member of a cult. This rp will start at the Wanderer settlement known as Grey Haven. Your character is there for relaxation, and a place to settle for a time, you have no idea about the quest ahead of you.

Character Sheet:

Name:

Age:

Gender:

Appearance: ((Pictures are allowed as well as typed descriptions.))

Weapons: ((Two only, Bow + Arrows count as two))

Preferred Style of Combat: ((Your characters preferred method of combat with his weapons.))

History: ((A quick description of your characters life, leading up to him arriving at Grey Haven.))

My Character Sheet:

Name: Wdeldyr (Del-der)

Age: 28

Gender: Male

Appearance:

Physical Appearance:
Wdeldyr is a man of medium height, with a thin, yet muscular build. His brown hair reaches down to the tips of his shoulders, though he does nothing to upkeep it ((no braids, ponytails, anything)). His face is covered in patches of scratchy stubble, that cover the lower half of his worn face. His eyes are a dull brown, nothing of beauty. He has multiple scars that cover his body, his most visible, is a thin scar that wraps from right below his chin down to his stomach and and finally curving off into a painfull looking stab wound at his right side.

Clothing/Armor:
Wdeldyr owns nothing of true value or beauty. He dresses in a simple shirt, and pants, with layers of rusty armor covering it. He wears a simple dark green cloak over his clothes with a hood for protection from the rain and other elements. His only item of value is a small token he wears that resembles an old family seal, most likely inherited from an ancestor long dead. He carries an old pack around with him, filled with various survival equipment.

Weapons:

Longsword: Wdeldyr carries a surprisingly well kept longsword, with a decorated pommel hinting at a Knight in service's weapon of choice.

Dagger: Wdeldyr also carries a small dagger of simple design, it is as well kept as his longsword, though it's design is nothing of beauty or honor.

Preferred Style of Combat: Dual Weapons: Wdeldyr sacrifices powerful hits for fast movements and multiple attacks.

History:

Wdeldyr was born to a peaceful world, where Kind Caradel still ruled, and all was well. His father was a simple commoner, his trade being that of a merchant. His mother was never around, though Wdeldyr didn't care as much because of his love for his Father. At age 8 King Caradel had his infamous trial in which his right as King was unlwafully taken away. Beginning the rise of the Cults. His brief glimpse at peace was quickly ripped away as the rise of the many cults took place. Perhaps his life under King Caradel made this tragic turn of events all the more hard as he soon found himself hunted and hated by those around him. Taking on the name Windrider, he began to travel, quickly earning a name for himself as the "Bringer of Swift Death".

He traversed the world, his lonely camp being his only home for many a year. Now, at age 28, Wdeldyr has grown accustomed to his lonely, harsh life. Retreating to the Grey Haven for a simple get away from the chaos around him, though he soon finds himself thrust into a quest he never want, but will not give up on.


((This is my first rp on this site and I'm looking forward to it. Remember, if you have any questions don't hesitate to ask them.))

Hromoplast

(( anyways not a bad start for you then hope more people join so that the RP doesn't die due to lack of interest ))

Name: Jamal

Age: 27

Gender: Male

Appearance: His body is very muscular but short and narrow. His arms are strong from all of the time he spent using his bow. His face is crowned with two sky-blue eyes and a shrub of chestnut brown hair. No obvious scars can be seen, but on his right shoulder blade he has a long cut from years ago.

Weapons: A composite short bow and quiver with arrows

Preferred Style of Combat: He uses his bow with great skill being able to hit an apple from an eight of a mile away. He is agile in close combat too, using his bow as a staff and his arrows as daggers.

History: Ajuwan lived in a humble family. They lived by cultivating their land, until the cults started spreading even faster and getting more aggressive.
His mother was one of the first to join the Sisterhood although not even his father new that.
His father on the other hand was clear as he didn't believe in and deity and thought that a man is only worth as much as his hands and head. This kind of thinking was a quick way to get a man killed - which eventually happened.
Sons of the Fallen did it, killing his wife too, but only after raping her and putting all of her children onto a bonfire.
Obviously, not all of the children were burned, and Jamal now hunts down any man, woman or child that praises Holl.

Jamal raided a small shrine to Holl to the north of Gray Haven killing five acolytes and destroying all the relics he found. He proceeded towards the village, and decided he could use some trading material - he went hunting.
A few hours later, he arrived at Gray Haven with a nice catch that he might trade in for services in the town.

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flamingfoxx

((Accepted! Hopefully more people join soon!))

Screenfox

Name: Nita Jordan

Age: 27

Gender: Female

Personality: She used to be happy but ever since her betrayal she has been sad and dark, she is quiet and has a problem with trust

Appearance: She does wear the mask, She is very beautiful and has soft skin

Weapons: A large throwing knife, and a small hand size scythe

Preferred Style of Combat: She likes to be silent and stealthy, she gets up close and personal with her kills. When she fights she runs on four legs and hops around like an animal

History: She used to belong to Beasts of the High Order but she was betrayed by her fiance and closest friends so now she does not believe in Theridias anymore. She still lives in the forest most of the time, and she is always looking for revenge. She especially wants to kill the person she thought she loved. She has gone to Grey Haven in a hope to find a last safe place in which to prepare for her revenge.

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Overshadowed

Name: Koran Idaho

Age: 25

Gender: Male

Appearance: He is a very slim but muscular man,strong and of average height. His eyes are a light blue colour, reminiscent that of a clear lake glistening in the morning sunlight. His head is covered in a mat of messy brown hair that moves slightly when he runs. A silver chain also dangles from his neck. Koran wears a sleeveless white silk shirt that has two lengths of black string running down the middle of the shirt in loops before ending gracefully near the bottom of the silk. He also wears plain trousers made of the same white material that reach his ankles. Koran's feet are adorned with two pointed black leather boots.

Weapons: Koran carries two weapons. The first is a long whip made of a very durable leather. Many iron spikes that protrude from the surface of the leather can cause injuries or death if used correctly. The second of his weapons is a dagger that is usually sheathed at his waist. More than skilled with this weapon, he can unsheathe it in case an enemy were to engage him in close combat.

Preferred Style of Combat: Koran prefers to kill his enemies from a mid with a well aimed strike at their head or neck. If not a kill, then he prefers to hold them in place with his whip before hurling the dagger at his enemy.

History: Koran belonged to a nomadic people know as the "Cran" that made temporary homes on top the hills of Cara before the chaos began. What was once a peaceful tribe of nomads deteriorated almost immediately in to a band of savages when king Caradel was stripped of his kingdom. No longer what he felt to be an ideal place to live in, Koran left the tribe and ventured off in to the wilderness, eventually entering the "Grey Haven"

Null

Name: Belphor Loxen "the Behemoth

Age: 45

Gender: Male

Appearance:


Weapons: A two handed sword and a shield

Preferred Style of Combat: Belphor is very strong, he can handle is two handed sword with ease and without any wasted movements. He has a relatively small shield but it is very effective, as he could put it on his arm without affecting the effectiveness of his sword. He can change from being focused on power to speed.

History: Belphor was noble with high hopes of becoming a wonderful knight. He first became a squire where he aided the most well respected knight. He grew up learning much from the knight order. When he was made a knight he was a fierce one. He had immense strength, good speed, and leadership potential. He was made the head royal knight of King Josephey Caradel's court, the youngest ever to accept this title.

When chaos erupted Belphor and his men protected the King with their lives. That was not enough, they were outnumbered when the castle was attacked. He was the only one who was taken prisoner, he was in the castle prison for a year before escaping. He first thought about revenge, but a lot had already happened in a year and all seemed lost. Belphor for years then drank, everyday when he slept he hoped that he will not awake. He wandered, killing anybody in a cult in sight.

He found Grey Haven in a when it first started out, he stayed ever since. He was always known as the disgraced alcoholic knight. He expects himself to die in the settlement from alcohol. He has no hope for the future of the land. However he will be proven wrong.

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flamingfoxx

((Everyone's accepted! Though screenfox, you didn't say how you got to Grey Haven. But no matter, jus tedit that and all will be well. We have five people rping so far, that's good enough to start. Just a reminder, YOU CAN JOIN AT ANY TIME DURING THIS RP! Ok, here goes....))

Wdeldyr sat next to the small campfire. Despite it's size it blazed strong, sending waves of smoke into the air with every minute he burned. Wdeldyr was motionless, except for the occasional sigh of his chest as he breathed. He was tired, as was everyone at Grey Haven. Everyone there was a fellow Wanderer, an unwanted, unloved, hated person who chose not to take sides in the matter of the Cult Reform. He sighed and grabbed the small leather pouch he carried food rations in. He slipped his hand inside, careful to only grab one of the dried meats he had stored. He slipped it into the side of his mouth, chewing and absorbing the salted flavor. It wasn't any fine meal, but it held him over for a time.

As he sat, a man approached from the far end of the field that the Wanderers were located in. He slowed to a stop not a few paces away from Wdeldyr. Raising his hands into the air he called out, "THE TIME HAS COME! IT IS TIME WE REGAINED OUR STATUS IN THE WORLD! NO MORE WANDERING! NO MORE WILL WE BE LEFT TO FEND FOR OURSELVES! NO MORE! JOIN ME! HEED MY TALE! THERE IS A SYLVERLITE, AND HE IS HERE AMONG US! SYLVERLITE, COME OUT! COME OUT SYLVERLITE!" Wdeldyr sighed, rephraining from laughing at the obviously drunk, man. Boo's echoed from the crowd of Wanderers, but the drunkard kept yelling, going on about the chosen one being in camp with them. Seeing the potential danger the man was in, Wdeldyr rose and quickly stepped between him and the approaching crowd of Wanderers. "Are you a fool, do you want yourself to be murdered? If so continue talking, if not, stay here and bite your tongue, I don't want another word out of you."

Wdeldyr spun around and met the gaze of an approaching Wanderer. "Out of my way, or you will find yourself gutted like this annoying pest will be." "Be reasonable, he has had a few drinks like we all have, let him lie down and rest. He will not bother you any more." "Out of my way, I am not going to keep repeating myself." The man slipped out a small dagger and inched it closer to Wdeldyr stomach. Wdeldyr sighed, stepped back, and watched as the man moved to pass. As he did so he hand flew out, catching the man in the ribs and sending him to the ground. He hands moved in a blur as he withdrew his weapons. "I don't want this to get out fo hand, just go quietly back to your camp and nothing else will happen." "Screw it! I'm not gonna listen to you!" The man lunged at Wdeldyr, forcing him to react with a parry from his short dagger. The small crowd of Wanderers drew their blades and began to move towards Wdeldyr.

((I wanted to start with a little excitement, to make the rp kick off. So now simply post your intro's much like this, with your character joining in on the brawl.))

Screenfox

Nita stood lonely next to a tree. She listened to the rantings of the drunk man. If only it was that easy. What was this? a fight was breaking out. She pulled out her scythe and let it dangle by it's chain. ((I am giving it a chain now)) She wandered over next to the man who the crowed had just turned on. "Can i help you with this."...

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kain222

Name: Deryn, or "The Deryn."

Age: Unknown, but he seems to be around 21.

Gender: Male.

Appearance: http://img.wallpaperstock.net:81/dre..._2832_1600.jpg

A tall and imposing figure, the Deryn is instantly recogniseable to those who had looked close enough for him. Standing at about six foot two, he was a giant of a man, yet he still moved with grace and swiftness. Having a tall, muscular and lean form, he is moderatley attractive, not stunningly so, but he has an air of mystery around him that seems to make him intruiging.

He usually wears an attire that is as follows: A long, flowing grey cloak with bear fur in it, the hood usually drawn over his head. He allso wears a leather top, with steel armour underneath, and furred gloves. Both of these are coloured a light brown, as are the slightly robe-like leggings crafted from leather with chainmail underneath that go to his knees, before being replaced by the usual steel-reinforced leggings. Fur boots taken over them, too.

One of the most noticeable features on his face is the lightning-bolt esque scar just under his eye.

Weapons: Two, long, silver-etched swords of impeccable make. They seem like the blades of forest kings, the sun reflecting off them. Or is it just that they had their own, awe-inspiring glow to them? It was hard to tell. The edge of the blades were slightly serrated, etches in them attesting to alot of conflict.

Preferred Style of Combat: Deryn is a frenzy-driven warrior. Striking with percise blows, he controls his rage. Reigning it in and focusing into each and every strike - not a blow is wasted, either to block, or to strike. It is clear he is a very skilled swordsman.

History: The Deryn is a major figure from ledgend, some belive him to be immortal, others belive that the title of Deryn is simply passed on from apprentice to apprentice. The latter being the less-abided rule. He is depicted in most paintings of great battles as a figure on a hill-top. Sometimes the appearance changes, shifts slightly, but one thing allways stands out, that lightning bolt scar.

The Deryn only shows up at the most important moments, moving in to try and fix the world, before leaving just as suddenly as he came, retreating back into the forests. Some say that he is the spirit of the forest - and that, when it feels the time is right, it will send out part of itself to aid the humans.

Regardless, it seems that this time, the Deryn found himself along with the wanderers, trying to appoint a king to stop this madness.

((Deryn isn't actually immortal, I have an awesome backstory planned for him, just you wait ))

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flamingfoxx

((Great character kain, ACCEPTED!))

Wdeldyr looked behind him, his gaze piercing. A girl stood behind him, a scythe like weapon in her hand. She wasn't drunk, for that is what Wdeldyr originally thought, nor did she look at all like a crazed blood driven warrior. Her qeustion was sincere, or so it seemed to Wdeldyr, and thus he answered with a sharp, "Yes, I would appreciate it. Just stay clear of my blade, for I can't guarantee it won't pierce you if you get in my way." With that, Wdeldyr began to duel the men. His blades weaved in and out, blocking the blows effectively.

The men he was dueling were quite drunk, meaning that their stances, along with their strikes, were weak, and not thought out. Giving him an edge in the battle. He swung out with his blade, catching the cloth shirt of the nearest drunkard. The shirt tore open, revealing the man's chest. The hopped back, afraid to be struck again. Wdeldyr simply smiled and struck out with his other blade, catching the man's throat, and slicing it in two.