Casting Call: Lonedark by Night (fantasy SRP)

[Sjon]

Details:

This fantasy world is based loosely on AD&D...similar races, and ambience, as well as the high adventure feel. Nothing in this world is small. Everyone lives out something epic, if only to themselves.

Lonedark is a bustling port-city. As such, all manor of creatures and situations can be derived from it. It has ocean to it's west, forest to it's north and east, and plains to the south. It is the Sin-City of this fantasy world.

Characters:

Galen Velaine- The character I'll play is a human male in his early twenties. He was on his way home after fighting in a war against a goblin hoard, returning to his home-city, Westgate. On the way, his ship fell into stormy seas, and crashed against the rocky beach. The opening post will have him awakening and heading towards Lonedark to the north, across the plains. He is brave, but slightly naive, trying to get on his feet in a shady city.

*You*- If you're interested in playing this out, just post here with an idea for a character, and when we get a few good ones, we'll kick it off.

Someone can play the barmaid if they want. You can come up with the character yourself, or I can give it to you, either way.

Guidelines:

Please write things in the third person.
If you don't like kink, you may not want to RP with me...I can get weird at times.

This RP may include: BDSM, Humiliation, Orgies, Watersports, Anal, Oral, Toys, and pretty much anything anyone wants to include.

*That was your warning*(as if you people get offended... )

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WRITING (Here is a short example of my limited skill)
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Galen awoke, sputtering. He heaved a goodly amount of salty ocean water from his lungs, and began to cough uncontrollably. He could hardly remember what had happened on the ship. It had seemed sudden, though he saw the foreboding clouds on the horizon. He had no idea where he was now, only that he was having difficulty breathing, and was chilled to the bone. His wiry muscles convulsed beneath his uniform, the green crest of Westgate nearly black with saturation. Galen struggled to his feet and looked around him.

Not much where he was, it appeared to be just a large field of wild grass. Galen managed to scavenge a dagger, fifty gold, and a brown cloak that had washed up in a bag near him. The dagger was worn, but better than nothing, and the cloak was soaked through, but the human figured if he dried it out it would be just fine. Through the morning fog, Galen thought he could make out the rising smoke that was the tell-tale sign of civilization, and from the look of it, a major city. He thought for a second, then headed toward the smoke, after all, what choice did he have?

Galen stripped off his wet cloathing, down to just his breeches, deciding it was best not to have cold wet clothes giving him cold-sickness. He stuffed them all in the bag, threw the strap onto his shoulder and began walking, oblivious to the fact that his white breeches were soaked through, revealing every inch of his large flaccid penis, gently resting above his testicles. Looking closely, one could even make out the transition from shaft to head, and the Y junction of skin on the underside, where clusters of pleasure-bringing nerves resided. All Galen knew was that he had a family waiting for him back in Westgate, and he meant to get there as soon as he could, even if he had to sell his soul.

The sun setting behind the man when he reached the gates of the city. Galen was tired, and hungry, and the fifty gold pieces he carried were his ticket to a stiff drink, a warm meal, and a soft bed. Galen wandered into the city looking for the nearest inn. It was called "The Prancing Pony", and it was fabulously crowded with people. This made no difference to the young soldier, however, when he strode in, clan in nothing but breeches. Luckily, they had dried in the hours he walked to this place, so he was less revealing at the moment. He approached the nearest barmaid, and ordered a large mug of ale, and some hot stew. As she went about busily serving customers, Galen could not help but notice the curve of her firm buttocks, and the low-cut top she wore. If he didn't have a wife, he might have gone after her, but he had a life elsewhere that was more important to him. The barmaid returned with his order, and smiled as he paid her and tipped her well...She had provided service and entertainment, after all. He mentally undressed her as she walked away, then set to his food, and drink, and watched others in their merrymaking.
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That's about all I got as far as skill...That'd probably be the intro to the RP.

If you are interested, post here, PM me, or send and e-mail to me at Tyavondo_Vala@hotmail.com

Thanks,

~Sjon

 

[Steiner]

Sounds like an interesting idea! The character I want to play is a Cleric - a combination Fighter/Healer, with the emphasis on the Healing aspect in my case.

Clerics can be played as religious nuts, but in the case of my character the religion is going to take a back seat to the idea of helping people who are suffering and in pain.

 

[Sjon]

Go ahead and writ a description on here, when we get one or two more people, we'll start up.

 

[Lady Topaz]

Here's an Idea------> Name: Lilah occupation: Silversmith and precious gem trader.
description: medium height, long curly black hair, startling green eyes, and tanned skin. body slim and toned. I would like her to be elven, but if they don't exist in the world, then human will be fine.

 

[Sjon]

Sounds good, hold out for one more lady and we can get going, okay guys?

 

[Steiner]

Okay, here's the basic character. Some of the equipment / clothing / weapons will be determined by how powerful our characters are supposed to be. At the moment I'm assuming that we're not complete beginners, but that we're not all that experienced either.

Johann is a Cleric of Lathander, God of the Dawn sunrise and new beginnings. His charge is to wander the dark places and bring hope to the hopeless - a fairly broad brief that has taken him to plagued cities, dark alleys and remote villages so far. He's capable of curing some fairly nasty wounds, curing diseases and of communing with good spirits and driving evil ones off - all tasks he's performed in the past.

Lathander is a god who is more interested in the alleviation of suffering than the accumulation of converts and tithes, and this attitude has rubbed off on Johann. Although he's always ready to discuss his faith with an interested party, he is not a firebrand preacher. A scholar and healer by inclination the warrior side of the clerics life has been a little hard on Johann. He is pale skinned with dark hair and dark eyes and lightly built.

When on the road Johann wears Chainmail armour, complete with helmet and shield. Over this he wears a blue tabard with his God's symbol embroidered on the front and a light red travelling cloak with a hood. In his hand he carries a mace - a spiked ball mounted on a wooden haft. The weapon seems normal but has a strange sheen in the darkness and resists water as if oiled - telltale signs of magical imbuement.

In town Johann dresses well, but simply. His clothing is mostly blue, grey or white and the only sign that he is a priest is the holy symbol he wears around his neck.


I'm going to be away on business until Thursday now - I'll try and check back a couple of times, but may be away from a computer until then. I look forward to seeing what you and Lady Topaz have in store!

 

[Lady Topaz]

Here's a little more depth to my character:

Lilah is originally from a woodland village, but has kept very secretive about her history and family. Obviously she isn't human, but with her elven features she has blended well with the people of the larger village she has moved to.

Lilah has set up her own silversmith shop at the edge of town. Highly skilled, her blades and swords are almost always perfectly balanced and complete works of art. Also, she can make pretty fairpeices of silver and gem jewelry.

However, because she is so secretive there have been rumors about her other craft. Some people claim that she can meddles with magic and spirits using the precious gems and other stones amid her silversmith shop.

While she is in her shop she werars the typical leather smock and a plain workdress. But when she is not smelting or when she is in town on errands or for pleasure she usually wears dark forest green, maroon, or dark blue dresses that seem to show off all her good qualities.

 

[Slutlet]

Sarphadi is a human from the southlands, dark skinned and olive eyed. She arrived in the city recently with a troupe of travelling acrobats, and had to quit to escape the murderous rage of her masters wife ( who caught her man and Sarph in flagrante ).

At the moment she is almost penniless, owning little more than a few slips of silken costume. So far she has survived by petty theft and a little whoring.

In a strange city she is a girl in need of friends.


OOC - Can i play ?

 

[Steiner]

The more the merrier IMHO... Speaking of which - now that I've returned have we any plans for getting started? <grin>

 

[Lady Topaz]

ooc- Just to let you all know I'm still here

 

[stalwartone]

OOC - If I may...

Devrus - human "blademage" (fighter/magic-user).

In appearance a medium sized, wiry man, Devrus has dark red hair and flat, black eyes, offsetting a strange pallor. His movements are calm and sure, and he always seems to be aware of his surroundings. Tattoos of matching dragons are on his shoulders, their tails wrapping their ways down his arms to his elbows, a black spider is etched on the back of his left hand, and an inked ring of flames encircle his right wrist.

His clothing is dark hued, loose enough for fashion (and to cover a coat of intricate chain mail), but tight enough to facilitate fighting. Knee high boots sport the handles of twin long daggers, and a pair of matching shortswords are worn on his back, handles within easy reach at the small of his back. A black cloak hangs from his shoulders, sometimes seeming to move with a life of it's own. He also wears a pair of fingerless gloves and a long scarf that he sometimes uses to wrap over his head and face.

His magic is an accessory and tool (much as his blades), not the prime force in his life. His skills with it are primarily in defensive spells and sensory enhancement, although he occasionally uses other spells.

History - Little is known of Devrus' youth, and he never speaks of it. He has made a name for himself as a hunter/tracker in the Deyarn Imperial Guard, and is known to have worked as a mercenary for a while in various outfits. Rumor has it that he disappeared in the black tower at the center of the Cursed Woods of Algiarn, hunting an assassin that killed his last employer. While not apparently any sort of undead, he has an aura of mystery about him.