A gulp ran down the throat of the black-robed steward as he stared uncertainly up at the spiralling obsidian staircase that snaked its way up before him, slipping one hand beneath his raised hood to wipe beads of sweat away from his shaven dome. That the constructs had only done as well as she had predicted was not bad news... But the trek from the apprentices' quarters up to her study always seemed an unnerving prospect. Still, she had demonstrated rather viscerally that she had not the patience for cowardice amongst her students... And suddenly the man stood at the top of the staircase, before an unassuming door of oak. He blinked in surprise, so occupied with his fears as to have let the climb itself gone unnoticed. He allowed himself another uneasy gulp, then raised a closed fist to knock boldly upon the door. When no answer came, he laid his hand flat to its surface and stepped within.

The ebony walls of the room were laden with all many of grisly artefacts, ingredients and trophies – preserved heads, dark candles, bloodied knives... Save the far wall, which held a large, unadorned window that stretched from wall to wall, floor to ceiling, revealing the darkened sky outside and the sorched earth beneath it. Poised before the was a large desk, behind which sat a bored-looking woman, dressed in similar black robes, yet with her hood lowered to allow view of a dark-eyed pale face, framed with a long cascade of thick, yet shiny black curls. “How is Fox?” Lasandra, the woman, inquired, not deigning to look her steward's way, yet instead staring uninterestedly into the depths of a clear glass orb mounted on a small pedestal before her.

The steward did not know why she asked such questions when she knew that he knew she already had the answer. Nevertheless, the man gave a bow and uttered clear response, “he yet lives. The constructs are too slow, brittle and dumb. It seems the mind is not preserved within the soul, but dies with the body. They do not know how to use the weapons we give them, thus when matched with Fox... They fall quickly.”

“Can the knowledge not be imprinted on... No, they have no mind.” Lasandra looked up from the orb to deliver the steward a cold frown, one that sent a chill down the man's spine. She was not imposing, in manner or appearance, but the magically attuned couldn't help but falter a little against her aura. “Hmm... Well, give him an hour's rest, and a decent meal. In the meantime prepare further corpses for reanimation... I think I may have an idea...”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lasarus stepped dejectedly from the hovel the necromancers called his 'quarters', hearing the heavy clang of the mechanical grate that sealed his little hole from the rest of the cave in which he stood, the higher part of which was encircled by a balcony and walkway that lead into the castle proper. For a moment his lips were twisted into a snarl of hatred as he stared up at the black-robed figure that watched from on-high, but it was short-livid. The stench was what hit him first, as always, the thick smell of rot and decay floating from down the dark tunnel that ran into the wall of the circular and brightly lit cave in which Lasarus stood, sword gripped tightly in hand. Then the first pair of glowing turquoise eyes appeared within the darkness, followed by a low, grinding moan. Lasarus gritted his teeth, lifted his blade and mentally prepared himself. Their last attempts had been shoddy, shambling wrecks easily destroyed – but he never knew when Lasandra may perfect her dark craft...

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning you find an envelope. Tearing it open, the following correspondence is found inside:

FROM THE DESK OF NASURATE LUCINDIO, MAGISTRA OF FLAME.

SYNOPSIS OF ASSIGNMENT:

Knight-General Lasarus Fox has been located – he is presently captive to Lasandra Dragonbane, a necromancer of the Black Concordat. She does not plan to move him to their citadel of evil, the Onyx Labyrinth, and is instead holding him within her own Castle Dragonbane. This violates any political ward she can claim. Castle Dragonbane must be captured, and Lasarus freed, so that she is forced to stand legal trial.

TARGET(S) (IN ORDER OF URGENCY):

Lasarus Fox
Lasandra Dragonbane

AIM(S):

Locate and liberate (Lasarus Fox)
Foil and apprehend (Lasandra Dragonbane)

STATE ALLOCATED PROVISIONS:

Enough food to provide fifty (50) men with two meals per day for one month.
Twenty-five (25) Thar'll Militia trained in use of swords and crossbows.
Five (5) qualified Combat Healers.
Ten (10) Thar'll Knights, trained in use of shields and a variety of close-combat weapons.
Two (2) Mage-Ambassadors of the Arcane Circle.

YOU WILL NEED:

Your ceremonial Sword of Thar'll.
Additional food/drink.

POINT OF CONVERGENCE:

You have four days to present yourself and you Sword to me at the encampment established west of the Citadel, where the main road gives way to the Obsidian Path. It is a fortified checkpoint, so have your Sword ready.

BE ADVISED:

I do -not- want a repeat of the Syrenia incident. By bringing your Sword to the encampment you knowingly agree to the possibility of personal injury/maiming/curse/death. No whining. No 'sick leave'. We have a job to do, and we will do it.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thar'll is the last of the human kingdoms yet to fall beneath the banner of the unified Empire of Man spanning most of the mainland further east. It is a small province – a dispersed collection of fortified towns and farming villages around a great walled capital city, the Citadel Thar'll. The wise Lord Sceolan rules from his keep atop the Citadel, mustering his militias against the evil hordes of the neighbouring province of Velleront, the dark domain of the Black Concordat. When his trusted Knight-General was kidnapped in the latest skirmish the Thar'll militias fought against the Concordat's foul servants Sceolan has turned to his elite, the diverse multitude of mages, warriors and rogues that comprise the Swords of Thar'll, a myriad of skilled individuals sworn to defend the province from threats its usual brave soldiers cannot. Each carries a ceremonial longsword, wrought of the finest steel with a gold-plated grip and a stone of their choosing set into an inscribed pommel, as a mark of this honour and responsibility.

You are one of the celebrated Swords, and your kingdom needs you – lest it be unable to stand against the press of the Black Concordat.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rules/Points of note:

1. I shouldn't have to go through the basics. No power-playing, no god-moding, auto-hitting, blah, blah, blah.
2. Your first character must be a Sword, and this character requires an application to be accepted by me, but after that you have free reign. I require one app only to make certain you are capable of writing a balanced character. Some guidelines though:

- You may play as a member of the Black Concordat. I will include some advice for doing so on the relevant groups page.

- Outlined below are some of the races that inhabit the world. Please stick to these races when making your character – and try to play them effectively. A Drow is more believeable as an antagonist than an Elf, Orcs are dumb and vicious, and so on. There is room for more races to be included, though not by me. If you wish to play a race that isn't described below, post a description of the race onto the OOC thread and I will consider it. Note that I am unlikely to accept any new races straight away.

3. I believe that my role as GM is more to guide the thread than dictate it – as such I try to be lenient in the way I let the players go about writing their characters. However. I do retain the write to dish out inflict auto-hits on anyone I feel is being unfair, which will take the form of random Acts of God. Playing an unstoppable badass who never takes any damage is a good way of evoking one of these reprimands.
4. As of yet, I don't intend the plot to extend beyond the rescue of Lasarus and the defeat of Lasandra. However, if the plot is successful and the players wish to continue on after this endgame, I will devise a new plot for us to enjoy, and probably expand the gameworld a little.
5. I am so sick and tired of seeing thread after thread populated exclusively by teenagers. If your character is aged between sixteen / nineteen, expect them to be not as strong or experienced as older characters. If you wish to play a character at their physical peak, I suggest a character aged between twenty-three / twenty seven.

Oh yes, character skins

(Delete brackets)

Full name:
Race:
Age:
Faction (at present only the Swords faction is available, until I get round to writing up the others. Note that mage characters are automatically considered members of the Arcane Circle):
Physical appearance (not clothes):
Equipment/possessions (incl. clothes, weapons, armour, anything and everything. Order this section as you see fit):
Magic (if any):
Aura/magic specialisation (if your character is a full mage or shaman):
Background (any generic fantasy background will do, though I will be pleased if it references any of the locations or factions described on the Places and Groups pages):

The basics of magic:

All beings are born with an innate energy pool that comprises the spirit of an animal, sentient or otherwise. Those with the smarts or the natural aptitude can learn to drawn upon this pool, expelling the energy outward in the form of spells. Apprentice magic users often tire out quickly after casting only a handful of spells – this is because their spirit is not yet used to the sensation of expelling the required energy. As more spells are cast the spirit grows more adept, and begins to expand beyond the constraints of the body, forming an 'aura' that other magic users will be able to detect. It is the realisation of this 'aura' that separates a recognised mage from an apprentice.

The bulk of arcane knowledge required to develop an aura is such that any who are skilled in magic find themselves unable to take to any other style of combat or living – the sword, bow and other weapons are forever useless to them. Those that attempt to wield sword and magic in tandem never advance beyond simple cantrips. The spirit also finds it easier to adapt to one particular style of magic, hence why specialisation is required to build an aura. Most specialisation is elemental, but other fields of favour are not unknown.

It is also possible, and indeed fairly commonplace, to imprint magical energy onto an artefact such as a weapon or armour-piece (although pretty much anything can be enchanted). Such augmentations are rarely permanent however, without the use of a channeling aid to imprison the energy and prevent it escaping (precious stones do well at this). Consequently an enchanted item will get less and less powerful as time goes by, with the enchantment usually dissipating completely after a couple of days.


Playable races:

Human: The sentient great-apes of the mainland. Humans are a diverse bunch, ranging from the cosmopolitan imperials found in great cities, to the hardy nords in the tundra-locked north and the dark-skinned, athletic desert folk to the far south. Most humans swear fealty to the Empire of Man, which dominates most reaches of the mainland.

Elf: Pale, pointy-eared folk of the Elven Isle. There are four recognised sub-species:

Wood elf – these elves are of small but nimble build, and reside in enclaves littered around the great, lush forests of the Elven Isle. Their senses are impressively sharp, and a steady hand makes them unmatched in use of a bow. Those young wood elves who are recognised as having potential as powerful mages are often delivered to the Arcane Circle to learn their craft, to return as wise and feared leaders in their enclave.

High elf – these elves are taller than their forest kin, and take naturally to use of spears, glaives and sword-staffs. They reside within Great Tal, the collective term for the four great cities of marble and gold that puncture the coastlines of Elven Isle, connected by trade roads leading through the forest. They are distinguished as Tal North, Tal East, Tal South, and Tal West respectively. High elves value intellect and patience, and their society is very socialist, with no high-born elf allowed to live in anything less than the lap of luxury.

Drow – these elves are coloured black as night, with gleaming silvery hair and eyes of red, orange or violet. Like wood elves, they are small and agile, but unlike them their thoughts are only of violence and evil. These elves also live in enclaves, forming fortified towns scattered around the Black Province of Velleront, from where they raid other enclaves, Orc settlements and harass travellers on the road. It is a common Drow practise to annually send those of an enclave who are soon to come of age into the mainland, to live as brigands and prey on traders and travellers. They return with their ill-gotten spoils of murder and theft, and are named adults among the enclave. Uniquely among the elves Drow society is led exclusively by women, with females undertaking all positions of leadership and males living as soldiers or servants.

Low elf – these are elves who's blood has been thinned by breeding with humans. They are generally found wherever humans are, sharing in their daily lives. Low-elves have a shorter life-span than other sub-species, around one-hundred-and-fifty-years, their senses are less sharp and their ears less pointy. They are typically shorter and less stout than most humans, though take easier to acrobatics and stealth-related abilities.

All elves have disturbingly long lifespans, enabling them to live for up to around eight-hundred years. Generally it takes an elf ten years to age one human year, so a ten year old elf is the same as a one-year old human.

Dwarf: Short, stout, strong and hairy. Dwarves are typically mountainous, and reside in the western mountain regions where they do continual battle with the Orcs they share the territory with. They work hard and play hard, often at the same time – many Dwarves are happiest with a pickaxe in one hand and a flask or flagon in the other. There are no finer smiths in the land, Dwarves commonly unearth weapons and relics from thousands of years before and still their steel is in pristine condition. To compensate for their short stature they typically favour two-headed weapons, such as claymores and great-axes, and find a crossbow easier to handle than a longbow. They are the only non-human race to give fealty to the Empire of Man, as they have found humans to be both impressive craftsmen and fierce warriors, and consider them their evolutionary equals.

Greenskins: Dumb and bestial, the collective peoples referred as to 'greenskins' encompasses the species of Orc and Goblin. They are grouped together because of two primary traits – they are typically very stupid, and have green skin.

- Orc – these greenskins stand as tall as a man, with the build and muscles of the stouter dwarves. They live in small packs, spread throughout most mountainous regions as well as the sorch lands of Velleront, where they are nomadic. Orcs live to do battle – with humans, with elves, with dwarves, with other greenskins, other Orc packs, any and all persons. It is not unknown, however, for an Orc to gain some sense of moral understanding, and if he is big enough to avoid being butchered by his fellows, make his way into the mainland to try and earn an honest living.

- Goblin – these creatures are small, seldom more than three-feet in height, and sinnewy in build. They are more like elves than men, favouring crude wooden bows and agility over melee-combat, though most Goblin's carry a 'stabber' – a sharp stake hewn from whatever stone is nearby to where they live. Goblins live typically in caves or networks of underground burrows, and are therefore found near mountains and hills, though groups of them have been known to take residence in abandoned outposts. They are found all over the mainland, and generally considered more of a nuisance than a threat. In some towns there are stories of a great united Kingdom of Goblins, of which every living Goblin is a citizen, with all the separate groups across the world in regular contact and homage to each other. The world is so vast, however, and Goblins so small, dumb and ineffectual that this is highly unlikely.

The greenskin races are no different to the others in terms of magic. Most groups have at least one magic user powerful enough to develop an aura (called a Shaman) and there are, believe it or not, a few scattered Orcs and Goblins that wear the robes of the Arcane Circle.

Draconian: these are the living descendents of ancient covens of dragon-worshipping tribals. The legend goes that eventually these people “became one” with the dragons of the world, and were granted gifts of great strength and vicious traits. Nowadays this blood is very thin, and very few Draconians remain – one of whom is Lasarus Fox. The Draconians that live today are typically very tall, innately stronger than the average man, and possessing one other dragon-like trait: long claws, scaly wings or the ability to exhume flame from their mouths.