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Ambar: Chapter 1 - Snow & Ash

Ambar: Chapter 1 - Snow & Ash

In a world where old prophecies suddenly come to life, kings squirm, the dark approaches and an involuntary band must rise up.

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Topics: , fantasy, magic, original, prophecies, and warriors (Add Tags »)
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Introduction

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Ambar is a vast world, just like any other, real world. It has beautiful landscapes, though some are wild, rough and even downright brutal. And then it has everything in between.
At this particular point in time, there are two human kingdoms, two dwarfish kingdoms, an elvish kingdom and one enormous orcish empire. There are four dominant races in the lands of Ambar; elves, men, orcs and dwarves. The humans occupy the kingdoms of Vesia and Stormgarde. The dwarves have their homelands in Caeld and the isolated Dûrg-Bekári Empire. The elves reside in Rínarwin, and the orcs… Well, take a guess!

While a fragile peace has existed for a while, strife and bitter, bloody rivalries begin to resurface. The orcish empire has been rather reserved and isolated for a long time, but now there are reports of orcish warbands raiding borders. Of course, the orcish Khan denies this, entirely. Old crones and old wise men claim that war is brewing, while they mend clothes and smoke pipes (the latter applies to both).
No one wants all-out war, so diplomacy is important, but it is widely known that all kingdoms are stockpiling weapons and arming themselves. There has never been a better time to be a smith!

In this world, a select few have a role to play that is bigger than anything they could have imagined. They will be marked.


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Ancient Blood Rune


But what no one is puzzled by, is why these things are happening. Aggression and strife and rattling of swords happen for no apparent reason, but all races are concerned with keeping themselves safe, rather than getting to the root of the problem. So, several things seem to be happening all at once. The orcs are stirring at the borders, and there’s a general uneasiness among the people in the cities. What’s more; the granddaughter of the current king of Stormgard has fallen sick. This happened immediately after a strange mark appeared on her wrist. And finally: a town in the north-west of Stormgard has been utterly destroyed, burned to the ground. People talk of blue flame and the walking dead.

Some blame orcish warlocks, some blame blood mages and some are more inclined to see this as divine judgment - punishment for our wicked ways. The king of Stormgard knows how superstitious people can be, and naturally wants to avoid civil unrest. But he does want to investigate, as he thinks that all of these events occur suspiciously simultaneously with the recent affliction that has befallen his granddaughter, and the mark on her wrist, as well as the general ominous feeling that seems to creep through the land, hanging in the air, filling everyone with uneasiness and fright.
His scribes and masters of books were set to work, to find what they could about this mark, and her illness. They found little, but did return with an old, dusty and quite huge old tome, which contained an image (or drawing rather), resembling the mark on the princess’ wrist. It also contained the stories of something, or someone rather, called the Heralds. The Heralds are supposed to be 7 ancient beings of great and dark, twisted power. These stories are largely considered superstition and folklore now, though some still believe in them. Those that claim they don’t.. Well, people scare easy.

The Heralds are said to number 7 in total, and are supposedly the ones who will bring about the end of the world, plunging it into darkness. this is the one thing all the major religions of the four races can agree on. They all mention 7 figures that will bring doom.

All of these incidents have brought the king of Stormgard to initiate a search. A search for any and every one that might have a marking on their body, resembling that of his granddaughter’s, or just anyone who has knowledge about it. He has even requested the help of the other kingdoms, though all of this has been done secretly! Word was sent to the Orcish Empire, but no word has returned from the Khan. The king of Stormgard hopes that other orcish leaders might make their own choices. No one but the regents of the other lands, and the king’s most trusted friends know what the search is for. The soldiers that carry out his orders, have only been instructed to carry anyone back to Fellmark, who has a mark or knowledge thereof.


You will be playing a character, who will be part of a secret, chosen few. You will not, however have a say in this choosing. You have lived your life as you have, so far, but things are about to change dramatically as you are suddenly struck by dizziness and a sharp, blinding pain on the wrist. Your skin blackens, your blood feels hot and stinging in your veins. You’ve been marked, and now people are looking for you!

This is where your character’s story begins! En route to the audience chamber of the King of Stormgard, in Fellmark.





Code: Select all
[hr][/hr][center][size=150][font=palatino linotype][b]"[/b][color=#000000]Quote by or about your character if applicable[/color][b]"[/b][/font][/size]
[hr][/hr][/center]
[size=150][center]>>Character Image Goes Here<<[/center][/size]

[center][hr][/hr]
[size=250][font=Copperplate Gothic Light][b]INTRODUCTION[/b][/font][/size]

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[[u]General Information[/u]]
[b]Nickname(s):[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Race:[/b]
[b]Origin:[/b] (What country?))
[b]Occupation:[/b] (Could include class and or rank).


[hr][/hr]

[right][hr][/hr]
[size=250][font=Copperplate Gothic Light][b]APPEARANCE[/b][/font][/size]

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[b]Hair:[/b]
[b]Eyes:[/b]
[b]Complexion:[/b] 
[b]Height:[/b]
[b]Build:[/b]
[b]Weight:[/b]
[b]Body Markings:[/b] (Scars, tattoos, other noteworthy markings of any kind).


[[u]DESCRIPTION[/u]]
(1-3 paragraphs.)

[b]Please do go into detail, don't rush yourself and be as descriptive as you can. This really makes the character come alive.[/b]

[hr][/hr]
[size=250][font=Copperplate Gothic Light][b]PERSONALITY[/b][/font][/size]
[hr][/hr][/right][size=120][[u]P E R S O N A L I T Y[/u]] [/size]
(1-3 paragraphs.)

[[u]FEARS[/u]]
[list][*]
[*]
[*]
[*][/list]

[[u]QUIRKS[/u]]
[list][*]
[*]
[*]
[*][/list]


[[u]LIKES[/u]]
[list][list][*]
[*]
[*]
[*][/list][/list]

[[u]DISLIKES[/u]]
[list][list][*]
[*]
[*]
[*][/list][/list]


[hr][/hr][hr][/hr]

[size=250][font=Copperplate Gothic Light][b]ABILITIES[/b][/font][/size]


[[u]Skills[/u]] [i]Please describe your character's skills in combat. Have they adapted a certain fighting style? Do they know how to fight with a sword, but not how to repair it? Can they infuse their weapon with magic? Can they fight hand to hand? Can they hunt? Make potions? Mend wounds? Make wonderful balloon animals? You get it... :)[/i]


[[u]Spells/Magic Affinity[/u]]  [i]This isn't meant for you to list every damn spell your character has learned. Are they more proficient with a certain type of magic? Do they know a certain very powerful (or very illegal) spell? Stuff like that. And only if this is applicable! If your character doesn't know magic, then there's is no point to this.[/i]


[[u]Weaknesses[/u]]
[list] [*][b](something you're lacking in regards to battle, or otherwise. This is VERY important. EVERYONE has weaknesses, and I would like for you to list those of your character here. this also really makes him/her come alive!):[/b] (description)



[hr][/hr]
[right][hr][/hr]
[size=250][font=Copperplate Gothic Light][b]EQUIPMENT[/b][/font]
[/size][hr][/hr][/right]
[[u]ARMOR[/u]]

(Feel free to use pictures!!
What is your character wearing into combat? Is he or she wearing heavy, slowing armor? Something lighter, perhaps? What does it look like? What's it made of?)

[[u]CLOTHING[/u]]
(Pictures welcome here as well!
What does your character wear when not in combat? Do they have a raiment of fine clothes, that they wear to certain social events, and a set of clothes they wear on the road? What does it look like?)


[[u]ITEMS[/u]]
(Does your character carry around other trinkets?)


[[u]Primary Weapon:[/u]]
[b]Weapon Name:[/b]
[b]Weapon Type:[/b]
[b]Length:[/b]
[b]Weight:[/b]
[b]Origin:[/b]

[[u]Other weapons:[/u]]
[b]Weapon Type:[/b]
[b]Length:[/b]
[b]Weight:[/b]
[b]Origin:[/b]

[b]Weapon Type:[/b]
[b]Length:[/b]
[b]Weight:[/b]
[b]Origin:[/b]


[hr][/hr]
[right][hr][/hr]
[size=250][font=Copperplate Gothic Light][b]>>INSERT NAME<<'s Story[/b][/font][/size]
[hr][/hr][/right]

[[u]RELATIONS[/u]]


[[u]Family[/u]]

[list][left]|[b] >>Family member<< [/b]|[/left]
(INFO GOES HERE)

[list][left]|[b] >>Family member<< [/b]|[/left]
(INFO GOES HERE)

[list][left]|[b] >>Family member<< [/b]|[/left]
(INFO GOES HERE)

etc....


[[u]OCCUPATION[/u]]
(What did your character do before they were marked?)



[[u]Outlook on life[/u]]
(Does your character hate elves but love orcs? Other way round? Don't care? What's his or hers thoughts about the different races, different countries and the general state of the world?

If you find this to be a dreadful waste of time, you may skip this.)


[[u]HISTORY[/u]]

Rules

Rules


  • I would like you to contact me, before you submit a character. This is for you to sort of “pitch” the idea of your character to me. I’ve implemented this rule, so I can stop you from creating a character that we don’t need more of, in time. Also, we can talk about it and I may have some advice or ideas, or you may have questions
.

I REQUEST THAT YOU HAVE A GOOD TIME!

I never write very much in the rule section. I think you are all well aware of what to do, and what not to do. I feel like it shouldn’t be necessary to fill this section up with do’s and don’t’s.


  • I’m a big fan of common sense, so if you just apply that to most every situation, I think we’ll all get along fine

Be nice. Don’t god-mod, etc. General good behavior!

Regarding Characters:


I do expect that you put some work into these characters. That doesn’t mean I expect you to be finished with your character sheet in a couple of days. Take your time, put some work into this thing, and I’m sure you’ll come up with a lovely, wonderful character! <3

Please contact me if you have questions. I will write to you if I have any, and if I feel you should change something about your character.

I have deliberately not filled the world map entirely with towns and cities, so if you want your character to hail from a certain region, but you’re maybe not content with the currently added locations, we can talk about that and I can add something to the map :]

To ensure diversity, I will reject characters if there are already too many dwarves, for instance.

REMEMBER TO CONTACT ME BEFORE YOU SUBMIT!
I’m hoping for around 10 players for this. 1 character pr. person for the time being.

To ensure that you have read through all of this, please include the word "squiddlyspooch" in the PM you'll send me, when you talk to me about your character!

View All »Available Characters

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Character Portrait: Garos Sharad "Oh, I've got troubles of more than one kind."
Character Portrait: Cecilia Floros "No time to grieve for roses when the forests are burning."
Character Portrait: Emily Austringer "Don't nip at me, ya little bastard."
Character Portrait: Callion Lightson "This bores me...all this bores me...Can we go get some pork?"
Character Portrait: Lipilu Aldaeth ""You're sick, the whole lot of you. As if a child gets to choose their heritage."
Character Portrait: Mara Timbers "Knowledge is not dangerous..."
Character Portrait: Glola Heavyrider "Understandable."
Character Portrait: Ragnar Greymany I don't do well with boredom.
Character Portrait: Thomas Burgundy "Which of you do I answer to?"
Character Portrait: Phaedra Mithalvarin "Everyone's got secrets, love. That's where I come in."

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These poor, unfortunate souls were once a part of this great world, but have been abandoned. Why don't you consider viewing their profiles and making a decision on whether or not you can roleplay them accurately?


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Character Portrait: Garos Sharad Character Portrait: Callion Lightson Character Portrait: Mara Timbers
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After their little send off by the King himself, the entire group swung onto their respective mounts and set off down dirt pathway. It’d eventually lead to this village. One he’d never particularly heard of. Of course, Garos wasn’t picky when it came to where he was going… but he tended to avoid smaller places for a reason. Folks didn’t usually need mercenaries, and if they did, they weren’t that well off to begin with. Sometimes, he traded favors or manual labor for a place to rest his head. For a hot meal. Even if it didn’t pay particularly well, it kept him going. Besides, he had a soft spot for farmers; the simple, hardworking folk on the outskirts. Reminded him of his parents.

He knuckled at his nose, and readjusted himself in his saddle. Despite working with horses at his own homestead, he never really liked riding all that much. Too bouncy. Chafed his legs. Made him sore. S’pose if he rode like Callion did; all side-saddle, like a wee lass plucked into someone’s saddle, he wouldn’t complain too much. Unfortunately, he didn’t think his pride would allow him to. While he wasn’t much for prying into people’s business or offering too much about himself, he was curious about those who rode at his side. People he’d inevitably bloody his blade with. If anyone thought they’d be spared any trouble on the road, they’d be in for a rude awakening. It was almost never the case.

Digging his heels gently into Suledin’s sides to quicken the stallion’s pace, Garos nudged him alongside Mara, with Callion only slightly ahead of himself. It appeared as if Ragnar had taken the lead. It looked like it suited him, too. He was just as comfortable accepting the grizzled soldier in that role. It meant that things would generally be smoother if someone was in charge. Usually. Besides, they had mostly the same goal here, even if they were reluctant participants. Cecilia seemed only interested in learning more about their marks; Thomas was a prisoner, and probably didn’t have much choice, Callion was a mystery and Ragnar must’ve been driven by a sense of duty for his country. His kingdom. His king.

No doubt Mara had her own reasons, as well. One borne from something far more abstract then being asked politely. A sense of adventure? Purpose? Perhaps both. Seeing how she didn’t look like someone who actively fought… he couldn’t help but think it was admirable. As for him? Who knew. He certainly didn’t. At least, not yet. He cleared his throat behind a fist and tried to tame his grin into something manageable. A tempered, non-threatening smile. He hoped it was. “Ah, hey, Mara—” he swung his gaze back to the road, “I wanted to say sorry. For being y’know… back then, in the garden.”

Beastly? A savage? Unmannered? He’d heard it all before. It was unnecessarily vague. Like he was, most of the time.

Mara gave him a small, somewhat bashful smile. In spite of this demure reaction, she seemed more comfortable on a horse than on her own two feet. Sat taller, even, it seemed.

You don't need to apologize, Garos... I'm just unused to....” Mara trailed off, looking perplexed. It seemed she was seeking the words to express what it was exactly she was unused to. When she finished, it was a little unexpected. "Kind contact.." Mara seemed satisfied with those words, strange though they were. She held the reins in her small hands, looking comfortable for the first time since they had met. A scar on her hand seemed especially white against the dark leather.

"I'm sorry to have reacted so poorly." Mara looked to him, eyes soft, and smiled in a way that seemed embarrassed.

From what Garos could see... she definitely looked more at ease there, sat atop her horse. Probably tended to a lot of them back on her farm. It made him feel a little more comfortable, though he couldn't figure out why. Similar backgrounds, he supposed. He scratched at the back of his neck and swung his gaze back towards her, though maintained his attention on her hands, only sneaking a glance to her face when he caught sight of a smile. Small as it was, it was something at least.

An indication that he hadn’t offended. Not nearly as much as he thought he might’ve. The swell of tension in his chest loosened. Unknotted. If only a little. Sometimes, he just wasn’t sure how to compose himself around people. Sometimes, he just didn’t think about it. The company he rubbed elbows with tended to be of the nefarious variety. They weren’t gentle, nor particularly friendly. He was an outcast there, as well as many other places. An unfortunate effect of looking so odd. People didn’t know what to do with someone they couldn’t pinion in a category.

“Ah, I see,” he cocked his head to the side, mouth pulling into another pensive line. A lady like Mara, all soft, smooth edges, so very like the garden she’d been pilfering from back at the King’s wee kingdom, wasn’t used to kind contact? It made him wonder, wonder what her life had been like, if that was the case. For all his own misgivings, he’d been surrounded by people, his family, who’d been varying degrees of invasive spaces. His gaze trailed down from her face, and back to her hands. They raked across the obvious scar sliced across her hand. One that looked peculiar. He was quick to look away, though his mind buzzed with questions.

One’s that were probably better off left unspoken. Perhaps, for now.

Garos laugh came from deep within his chest. Loud, breathy. He couldn’t wrangle his smile quick enough, tusks peeping out despite himself. “No, no, I know I can be overbearing, at times. I hope you’ll forgive me in the future for it.” He scratched at his chin, partially covering his mouth. Only for a moment, before he dropped it back to the reigns and smiled, softer this time. “I’m guessing you had no rowdy brothers, or snotty sisters?”

Mara's eyes drifted to his face. She again seemed perplexed by his attention, more than anything else. But she was managing to look him mostly in the eyes now. Well, as much as one could while riding.

"No. Just me, a grumpy old plow horse..." She said, raising the scarred hand a bit as if in explaination. As if she could sense his stares. Mara paused a moment, expression briefly flickering, hardening. "And Father." Mara's body seemed to stiffen for a second, before the soft smile returned. She stared ahead at Callion's back, looking as if she were thinking. Maybe trying to decide on a quick topic change?

"Do you come from a big family, Garos? A big...hugging..family...?" Mara seemed suddenly red again, as if flustered by just the thought of a bunch of folks like him all hugging it out. Even her voice had that nervous squeak to it.

It didn’t really surprise him, hearing that Mara hadn’t had anyone else growing up. Garos’ mouth tipped down momentarily, eying the top of her hand. The way she’d said it. Father. Sounded more like a curse, than an endearment. It made his stomach twist, and he was sure he knew why. The inclinations were there, unspoken. A quiet admonition. A painful one. He wasn’t stupid enough to press her on that subject.

He licked his lips, and tore his gaze away from her hand. Besides, he found it far more pleasant looking at her face. She was smiling. Kind. A soft person who probably had reason enough not to be. She followed her gaze to Callion’s back, gracelessly side-saddled on his horse. Certainly a sight to see. Didn’t seem like he had any care in the world, but who knew. Everyone here had their own story.

When Mara questioned him about his own family, he almost laughed. Instead, he leaned back in his saddle, mouth twisting into a sheepish grin. “You’d think, huh?” ‘Course, people could only guess at his upbringing by how he behaved, but his family had never been the touchy sort. His father was as stern as they came, all business and lessons. His mother, on the other hand, was composed of tougher stuff; hands smacking your back if you’d done something particularly well, and impossibly loud laughter. A little like he was. “Nah, it was just me, and my parents. They weren’t big on hugging.”

Mara nodded as she listened. Seeming to absorb all his words like a plant would take in rain.

They were farmers, through and through. Hardy folk. And they had conflicting child rearing techniques, neither were particularly warm or cuddly. He never had any siblings, or many friends, besides the animals they tended. It made him lonely. Maybe, that’s why he was the way he was. Too loud. Too much.

“We tended horses, too. Pigs, chickens, cows.” Garos grinned when Mara’s face flushed red. He cleared his throat and knuckled at his nose, raising his voice to call ahead to Callion, “S’pose you had an interesting upbringing.”

"Hm? Pardon?" Callion asked, peering back and appearing to take a moment before realizing what they were talking about and what had been asked. A smile planted itself on his face, although from genuine happiness or just because his face always seemed to contort into that expression was a different question entirely. "Ah an interesting upbringing, most definitely." Callion exhuberated. "My life was, and still is simply a series of challenges to overcome, as many people could say the same. If you're looking for a tale of an uplifting and loving family filled to the brim with professional and unbridled curiosity, I'm afraid I will have to disappoint you, unless you count poisoning, severe beatings, mental and physical degredation, literal torture and home cooking that wouldn't be served to lifetime prisoners of the Hag." Callion looked back at them, with a smile that leaned more towards lunatic at this point than anything else. "But life is full of challenges we have to overcome, correct? Why not share yours, they're most likely more upbeat than mine."

Mara's smile dimmed at Callion's request. It was clear she did not think her life story was more upbeat. Garos' grin fell a fraction of an inch, though he was quick to fill in the silence, "Upbeat might be a stretch. But, you're not wrong. Challenges, overcoming. All that." He paused and awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck. Seemed as if their stories hadn't been the happiest. He didn't want to press either of them. Loneliness was a far cry from outright... misery, but he understood it. If only a little. The sun dragged across the sky, beating down at their backs. He wasn't sure if they were making good time or not. How far? How long? He cleared his throat and lifted his shoulder, "there's nowhere freer than here."

Free from whatever they'd been through. Free from burdens, in whichever form they took.

That, most of all, was a truth he believed in.

Ambar: Chapter 1 - Snow & Ash: Out Of Character (OOC)

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