Wolk
The howny wabbit
- Joined
- Sep 21, 2002
- Posts
- 3,537
OOC: Open for a lot of possible roles. I will be playing Leon Franco, and I need a female to play Queen Isabella. Once someone takes the Queen's role, anyone else can join as secondary characters that don't alter the outlined plot too much. I don't want another army with someone playing a general suddenly appearing out of thin air, for instance, but if you want to play one of Franco's knights, one of Queen's chambermaids, or any other palace or city dweller, please, be my guest! 
IC:
It was nearing noon of a wonderful summer day. Not too hot, not too cold, not too windy nor stale, it was perfect, and nature seemed peaceful in its lush forests, the softly rolling sea on which the city-state of Isabella laid its strangely beautiful sprawls.
Men, however, had a tendency of ruining such natural beauty, and so they did that time as a vicious battle raged on the city's sturdy walls and its streets. The more numerous defenders - Queen Isabella's army and simple patriotic citizens - were being pushed back by the excellently equipped and drilled knights of the Franco Order.
Perhaps a word about the Order is in order now. Unlike the famed Orders of Tampliers and Hospitaliers, the Franco order was young and dedicated to one goal only - serving the goals of Leon Franco, its founder. One could call it his personal army - a cot of professional murderers and fighters - or an army. Though, preferably, behind the knights' backs, if you value your hide.
The second son of a Portugese Baron, Leon had little chance of inhereting the lands and the power that came with it. Though, he was a skilled general, and a wealthy man at the same time. With that wealth, he founded the Order, gathered, trained and equipped the men fiercely loyal to him. And now, five years later, it was time for the Order's sword he so diligently smithed to serve Leon and put a crown onto his head.
Now that the gates have been thrown open by the ram and Franco's knights were within the city, its defenders stood no chance. What at first was a battle, grew into a massacre.
Franco restrained his men, however, and those citizens who did not resist were merely herded with swift kicks and hits into the large square in front of the royal palace. The colorful sea of common people, peppered here and there by the red of the Queen's disarmed soldiers' uniforms, was bordered by sharply contrasting, straight lines of steel-clad knights.
Within the royal palace itself, the door to the throne room flew open under the force of the servant's body tossed by mighty Leon. Thus, the servant that was supposed to announce him did so, albeit in a rather unusual fashion.
In came Leon Franco - a man of huge proportions. He stood at least six feet and five inches, and was built like a hero of the ancient myths. His three hundred pound body had but a few touches of fat that were impossible to notice against the unbelievable mass of muscles. A thunderous voice and piercing gaze of dark eyes only made him more imposing and the dark-colored steel armor with huge spikes completed the image.
The queen's two guards dashed at him, but a few swift moves of the body posessing ogre-like strength and they were thrown aside like mere paper dolls. Seeing that, Queen Isabella waved off the remaining guards, saving them useless pain and injuries, for nothing seemed capable of stopping Franco.
He took the few remaining steps to the throne, standing a few steps below it, but still towering over the young, handsome queen. Extending a huge hand clad into an armored glove, Franco took her by the chin and lifted her face, looking it over.
"I'm here for your unconditional surrender, Queen Isabella." He bellowed. "You and the city will submit completely to my will. Then, I will not loot and raze it."
IC:
It was nearing noon of a wonderful summer day. Not too hot, not too cold, not too windy nor stale, it was perfect, and nature seemed peaceful in its lush forests, the softly rolling sea on which the city-state of Isabella laid its strangely beautiful sprawls.
Men, however, had a tendency of ruining such natural beauty, and so they did that time as a vicious battle raged on the city's sturdy walls and its streets. The more numerous defenders - Queen Isabella's army and simple patriotic citizens - were being pushed back by the excellently equipped and drilled knights of the Franco Order.
Perhaps a word about the Order is in order now. Unlike the famed Orders of Tampliers and Hospitaliers, the Franco order was young and dedicated to one goal only - serving the goals of Leon Franco, its founder. One could call it his personal army - a cot of professional murderers and fighters - or an army. Though, preferably, behind the knights' backs, if you value your hide.
The second son of a Portugese Baron, Leon had little chance of inhereting the lands and the power that came with it. Though, he was a skilled general, and a wealthy man at the same time. With that wealth, he founded the Order, gathered, trained and equipped the men fiercely loyal to him. And now, five years later, it was time for the Order's sword he so diligently smithed to serve Leon and put a crown onto his head.
Now that the gates have been thrown open by the ram and Franco's knights were within the city, its defenders stood no chance. What at first was a battle, grew into a massacre.
Franco restrained his men, however, and those citizens who did not resist were merely herded with swift kicks and hits into the large square in front of the royal palace. The colorful sea of common people, peppered here and there by the red of the Queen's disarmed soldiers' uniforms, was bordered by sharply contrasting, straight lines of steel-clad knights.
Within the royal palace itself, the door to the throne room flew open under the force of the servant's body tossed by mighty Leon. Thus, the servant that was supposed to announce him did so, albeit in a rather unusual fashion.
In came Leon Franco - a man of huge proportions. He stood at least six feet and five inches, and was built like a hero of the ancient myths. His three hundred pound body had but a few touches of fat that were impossible to notice against the unbelievable mass of muscles. A thunderous voice and piercing gaze of dark eyes only made him more imposing and the dark-colored steel armor with huge spikes completed the image.
The queen's two guards dashed at him, but a few swift moves of the body posessing ogre-like strength and they were thrown aside like mere paper dolls. Seeing that, Queen Isabella waved off the remaining guards, saving them useless pain and injuries, for nothing seemed capable of stopping Franco.
He took the few remaining steps to the throne, standing a few steps below it, but still towering over the young, handsome queen. Extending a huge hand clad into an armored glove, Franco took her by the chin and lifted her face, looking it over.
"I'm here for your unconditional surrender, Queen Isabella." He bellowed. "You and the city will submit completely to my will. Then, I will not loot and raze it."