Introduction
Roleplay is discontinued. Stop submitting characters.
The reasoning behind the discontinuing of the roleplay is because I had a really rough Quarter 2 in college in my business management studies and wanted to only focus on that for the time being. Another reason is because certain people that were already in the roleplay were becoming increasingly less active with Lumaria completely disappearing on all of us. Although some of them are my friends, the personal schedule for everyone got really heavy and ultimately prevented the progression of the roleplay. This doesn't make me feel like the roleplay failed, aside from Lumaria disappearing on us, but rather a bad set of circumstances coming up that prevented the roleplay from going anywhere before it really picked itself up and went some where.
Right now at this point in time I don't plan on roleplaying again, but if I do I'll revamp this roleplay and restart it. Deeply sorry for anyone's time that I've wasted with this and a more active approach to getting the roleplay unlisted as a featured roleplay has being taken.
Welcome:
I want to personally thank and welcome everyone that has shown interest enough in the roleplay to click on it and decided to look in what the roleplay has to offer. Although the roleplay will be managed simply by its creator, but the content will be generated by the individuals involved in the roleplay. So welcome and thank you for showing interest in Varnic: The Massacre of the Throne!
Will you accept this adventure?:
Information is all over the roleplay and not just on this page. In the respect pages under the Places tab will provide more specific information on various things of the world that the roleplay is on. With the unique universe concept called Varnic being used in the roleplay, it adds much more depth to the story with unlimited number of potential possibilities showing up and entrenching all the writers involved in vibrant lore.
The threat of war is rising:
Riv'nar is a continent that was discovered by the first Riv'narians around 7000 years ago and starts with the Riv'nar's chapter The Massacre of the Throne. As generations were born and time passed by, the entire continent was populated. Forces that moved against the Riv'narians a few centuries after the kingdom was established brought the death of sandstorms, drakes, orcs, elves, and undead creatures to Riv'nar's grassy meadows and great plains. Riv'nar was nearly destroyed from the invasion and war between the Realm of Sand and Bone. As time passed by again and the King of Sand slain, the forces of Bone defeated, the threat from years past grew smaller and memories of dark times faded to darkness in the back of peoples minds. However, a threat is never completely gone and even the sands of time will fill an hour glass if left untouched for too long and the restless hatred of the undead will erupt once again.
Fearsome monsters... Exotic creatures...
Vast riches... Hidden treasures...
Unexplored lands... Dark dungeons...
The worlds of "unknown" hold many wonders and mysteries.
And some incredible people are drawn to them.
They are known... as Adventurers!
Vast riches... Hidden treasures...
Unexplored lands... Dark dungeons...
The worlds of "unknown" hold many wonders and mysteries.
And some incredible people are drawn to them.
They are known... as Adventurers!
War has always been a catalyst point for lore and stories to circulate around a select few individuals. As the economy of Riv'nar collapses and tensions between social classes, low-born nobles, and high-born nobles increases, it creates and incites revolts and rebellion throughout the lands.
Entity of Sin's Roleplay Philosophy:
Roleplay isn't a game of any kind. It's an act of collaborative writing between two or more people to progress a story forward. I consider this one of the most essential things a roleplay needs to be successful. Holding people accountable to this is very important and bringing consistency to a story is very critical so that the plot moves forward in a coherent manner. Roleplays are a group efforts and without each individual holding themselves to an incredibly high self standard, it will fall apart.
Expectations & Guidelines:
Instead of simply listing a bunch of expectations, I'll explain some of the stuff that everyone should expect from me and in turn will be expected of them. All of these things are extremely simple to understand and follow and are nothing I'm not willing to do myself.
Regularly posting is very critical to a roleplay's success. Posting an incredibly large amount of times each week can also kill a roleplay by placing each writer in a position of information overload. This is something that should be avoided by everyone and made well aware of. Too much activity is a bad thing but to little is a bad thing as well. One or two posts a week is plenty of activity to keep a roleplay a live as long as each individual is posting in the OOC thread and collaborating on various things. Such as the magical powers of Riv'nar, details about the Realm of Sand and Realm of Bone, and maybe even the political structure across all levels of government. The point is that regularly posting in a roleplay but not overloading everyone else with too much information is something that will need to be closely monitored by each person. Quality over quantity is also something that is a necessity in any of my roleplays. Post length should be gauged at how much material to work with and the efforts produced from collaborating with others in OOC or other forms of communication.
Writing is something that everyone is going to do but writing by yourself isn't really considered to be roleplaying. Collaborative writing is one of the most critical aspects of a successful roleplay. If the roleplay doesn't die from inactivity, it will from not enough collaborative writing or constructive and productive collaboration in OOC. When communication between roleplayers falls through and is lacking, then the quality and standards of the roleplay start to fall apart. This is one of the leading causes of roleplays dying and will not be tolerated by the creator of this roleplay.
Capturing the roleplay's culture(s) accurately is important. Getting dialogue correct maintains the feeling of the roleplay's atmosphere and helps contribute to maintaining the high quality standards that the roleplay set when it was created. Understanding the various ways that characters speak to one another In Character is what really makes a roleplay stand apart from another one. In this particular roleplay, there is no modern day English sentence structure but rather a very ancient Roman/Greek dialogue style. A great example is the Spartacus: Blood and Sand, Spartacus: Gods of the Arena, Spartacus: Vengeance, and Spartacus: War of the Damned seasons on Starz. I strongly recommend every that is interested at this point to watch all the episodes to get an idea as to how this roleplay will construct its dialogue. You can find examples of dialogue from those shows from some YouTube searches and from watching full episodes online at SideReel.com.
Character Creation Focal Points:
It's important to have a character based around a particular focal point that fits inside the confines of the roleplay's current restrictions, structure, and design formula. There are a number of different types of generic focal points one can choose to use that make great starts for a character and the point of these focal points is to have characters band together with different backgrounds, ethics, morals, personalities, traits, strengths, weaknesses, and anything else that makes a character interesting to read about or write about. Here is just a short list of some ideas for people to use and if there isn't something that's on the list then please ask in the OOC thread that is found on the OOC Tab. No characters will start with magic or special powers and there is no exception to this and all characters will be initially human.
~Adventurer Guild
~Blacksmith Family
~A farmer that has lost his land to unfortunate events
~A former military soldier (requires character to be male and middle aged no exceptions and approval ahead of time)
~Hunter in the forest and skilled with a bow and spear
How to join:
To start explaining how to join, everyone is required to read everything on this page and all of the available page summaries that are linked below in this section (if there aren't any then that means a chapter hasn't been summarized yet). It's also strongly recommended that each person reads all the character profiles that are available. Keeping in mind that each profile will be of the primary character of the person that is in the roleplay while all of that person's secondary characters are listed on the same profile. This is done to save space and organize character information of one person's in one page.
One of the best ways to get a character approved is to work with me or someone else in the roleplay on an idea with your character. Each person in the roleplay is very qualified to help each new person in creating an elaborately simple character that fits the confines of the roleplay. So please don't hesitate to contact someone.
Each person will be required to give a description of their character and a pick from a selection of Fire Emblem portraits so that they can get a customized one created for the use of this roleplay. The list of Fire Emblem portraits can be found here. In your description please list the as closely to what you want your character look like based off the original Fire Emblem portraits. Keep in mind that the simpler the request the easier it will be to make the character portrait.
The purpose of these portraits is for transition scenes between chapters or "cut scenes" within a chapter through the use of creating images explaining certain things going on in between major scenes if a time jump is required.
Maps:
Some of these maps are pretty large. Best to open them in a browser tab just for each one that you wish to look at. Every map presented in this roleplay is the intellectual property of Entity of Sin, Obsidian Entity, or Cryptic Worlds (all the same person). Permission is needed before use.
Overview landscape.
Dungeon caverns of Vantia
About:
Varnic: The Massacre of the Throne is a high dark medieval roleplay that is full of epic battlefields, elaborate dungeon exploration, discovering lost ruins that hold forgotten treasures, and learning about the vast history behind the continent the roleplay takes place. The roleplay uses the Varnic Universe concept made by Entity of Sin to help structure things in a more organized manner -- to keep the experience as consistent as possible from start to finish so the delivery of a rich and unique story is possible. Many adventures await us all and with it the fame and glory the characters within it can claim for their own!
- 16 posts here • Page 1 of 1
The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 7 authors
The year is 57 A.C. (After Colony) and the region of Catan has been growing economically since the establishment of the new government created by the royal Delryn family a couple decades ago. As threats from the old homeland diminish the minds of each citizen that immigrated from a tyrannical land ruled by the Realm of Sand, new threats face the kingdom’s borders past the southern mountains called Arkarians; who are commonly referenced to as naga. These massive creatures are vast in numbers and live in the jungle region called Sparrowight and have proven to be formidable hunters and warriors. What makes the Arkarians such a looming threat to Riv’nar is their innate ability to wield sorcery - which is an ancient art outlawed throughout Riv’nar - and have created much animosity between the two civilizations. Through technological advancements, Riv’nar has invented powerful siege weapons and war machines as well as new techniques in forging weapons and armor for the kingdom’s infantry battalions. These military inventions were created as precautions against the potential Arkarian threat.
Despite the tension between Riv’nar and Sparrowight, Arkarians do visit Vantia to conduct trade business and import Riv’narian items into their own culture while selling their supplies to their neighbors. Imports of soft silks, giant lizard scales, precious gems, exotically spiced dry meats, and many other wondrous goods have been exchanged much between Riv’nar and Arkarian hands in Vantia. Although there is peace between the people of both countries, peace is something that never lasts as an old enemy of Riv’nar has not forgotten about the enemy they conquered decades ago.
This story in Riv’nar starts in the trade city called Vantia where a sudden increase in the number of adventurers have been appearing and seeking for work. Some of these jobs consist of exploration of old ruins for historians, gathering samples for local alchemists, or even protecting a local noble or merchant. The types of jobs are always posted on the bulletin board in the town square in the middle of the city around the water fountain for people to coward around and accept.
Treasure, fame, glory, adventure, and knowledge awaits those that claim it!
Warm afternoons always felt scorching while in the forge was burning hot with coal and breathing unbearable heat on steal. The forge Artanis is stationed in is a circular building with the furnace in the center with a doorway in front of the large anvil he is working with. An air pump can be found on the side of the furnace to help re-ignite life into the scorching hot coals and make them burn brightly. Interior walls that circled all the way around the building and the furnace and covered with a brown leather ceiling covered by straw padding on the exterior and weaved into the leather with tree vines. The entire structure was designed for expansion if necessary and easy repair. The entrance had a door that was open during the forge’s hours of operation to help ventilate the heat bellowing from the monstrous crafting station. The man behind the anvil hammered away at the iron spear head held tightly with a pair tongs with one hand and beat heavily with the hammer in the other. Life was simple and wonderful with a steady business keeping the mind busy with important tasks.
Upon further inspection of the interior of the forge suggests that the weapon racks lining along the wall to the left side of the entrance means the blacksmith specializes in weaponry, specifically swords, spears, and axes. The ceiling racks store wooden pools to be fashioned into spears, and there are chests lined and stacked up on the right side of the forge full of hilts and handles for swords and axes.
It is a quaint little forge with much to offer the trade streets of Vantia. Its location inside the city walls and also couldn’t be better since its geographical location is next door to food merchants. The smoke coming out of the chimney stack protruding out of the roof allows the furnace smoke to escape and also represents a landmark for surrounding businesses. The echoing of hammers working lured in a prospecting customer to examine the crafted goods of a hard working man by stepping in underneath the sign with the words ‘Bronze Shield Anvil’ burned onto both sides.
The customer placed both hands in pant pockets and stepped inside the forge to take a closer look while the blacksmith known as Artanis hammered away at a spear head, re-fired it, and hammered away some more. “Fine quality from elevated talent.” said the visitor to the crafter of fine weapon supplies. “Desire to view wares if permitted.” the man said lastly
Typical adventurers usually wear much higher quality attire than chainmail padded with animal furs, and battered up leather boots and bracers with a rusty looking sword and shield. The man didn’t look like he held much coin aside from enough for a meal and bed at the local inn. After a single pass around the forge to few all the product along the walls around the furnace, he stopped near the anvil and looked at Artanis place the glowing spear head in a trough, next to the furnace, full of water to cool it.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, Artanis looked to the potential customer and says, “Find tongue loose and see ears accepting.” and with the hammer resting comfortably on the anvil but gripped firmly, it was out of not trusting the man in his building of craft.
The animal fur covered adventurer stood firmly and combed a hand through his thick roughly maintained beard for a moment before answering, “Much gratitude for services of your fine forge!” the man proclaimed while surveying the finished weapons already in stock.
“Coin present to purchase weapons to replace current withered craft. Declare price and see coin exchanged between hands. Is terms agreeable?” the man added in addition to his previous statement to help reassure Artanis that price wouldn’t be an issue for the desired sale.
“Sword weighs five coin in worth per each that stand as finished product displayed in but arm’s reach. Make selection and place coin upon surface to make transaction complete.” Artanis declared and open palm faced up with the arm pointing to the large anvil.
The other hand kept a firm grip on the smithing hammer in case the visitor tried to commit an act of robbery. Theft was an issue in the market quarter of the city and Artanis already experienced his stock of crafted goods stolen from him once before. The city decree against thieves allowed merchants and craftsmen like Artanis to defend their property theft with necessary force.
After the transaction with the animal fur covered adventurer was concluded, the man left his forge and went about his day. What grabbed Artanis’ attention though was the rustling of people murmuring about the city being approached by a large group of soldiers from the north west. In the distance, Artanis could hear what sounded like familiar war horns and drugs. It had been many years since he had heard those terrifying sounds and although he was only a child at the time, it sent chills down his spine of fear.
The setting changes from Varnic Universe to Chapter 1: Under Siege
It had been a rough day for Doriann, to say the very least. Having left home some odd weeks ago, he honestly couldn't even recall exactly when, luck had not been on his side. He'd been robbed, set upon by thieves, felt the pangs of hunger and thirst consistently. The wolves had been the worst. He could still hear them, and the thought of running into them alone sent shivers down his back. With a panting sigh, he drained the last few drops from his water skin and silently cursed his habitually bad luck. Catching a glimpse of himself in one of the many store windows, Doriann's already weakened spirits took another serious blow.
His hair, one of his most beloved features, was matted and dirty. His relatively new cloak was battered and somewhat shredded, complete with obvious and not so obvious holes. His boots were already beginning to fall apart, there was a long, curved scab forming from where the thief had held their blade to his cheek. With a sigh, another long, defeated sigh, Doriann, for the first time, began to question his decision to leave home, to leave family, and pursue the world and its secrets. However, his one true dream had not yet happened, and odds are, never would. No one practiced the arcana in this land, and even if they did, there was no conceivable way they would ever take in such a novice student such as himself. And without magic, this was all, more or less, a wasted effort. He should just return to his old master's fields. Beg for his apprenticeship back. Return to the crops and herbs and the mixing tables of the alchemist before he got himself killed. Return to his books...
"No...never again will that world ensnare one such as myself..." He said, to no one in particular. He counted the precious few coins he had in his pouch, much lighter than when he had first set off, and began to debate his next move. Repairs, food and shelter, or maybe look for some sort of job...or companions...maybe someone who could teach him. If not magic, than anything that would be helpful for surviving on his own...And odds are, if they wanted a fee, Doriann could really only afford one of the options. So he could either have good gear, no food, and no training, food but not training or decent gear, or more he could acquire more knowledge, but starve like a dredge while looking like one to boot. "...A greater challenge than was expected..." He exclaimed aloud, as he all but fell back against the closest building's wall...
His hair, one of his most beloved features, was matted and dirty. His relatively new cloak was battered and somewhat shredded, complete with obvious and not so obvious holes. His boots were already beginning to fall apart, there was a long, curved scab forming from where the thief had held their blade to his cheek. With a sigh, another long, defeated sigh, Doriann, for the first time, began to question his decision to leave home, to leave family, and pursue the world and its secrets. However, his one true dream had not yet happened, and odds are, never would. No one practiced the arcana in this land, and even if they did, there was no conceivable way they would ever take in such a novice student such as himself. And without magic, this was all, more or less, a wasted effort. He should just return to his old master's fields. Beg for his apprenticeship back. Return to the crops and herbs and the mixing tables of the alchemist before he got himself killed. Return to his books...
"No...never again will that world ensnare one such as myself..." He said, to no one in particular. He counted the precious few coins he had in his pouch, much lighter than when he had first set off, and began to debate his next move. Repairs, food and shelter, or maybe look for some sort of job...or companions...maybe someone who could teach him. If not magic, than anything that would be helpful for surviving on his own...And odds are, if they wanted a fee, Doriann could really only afford one of the options. So he could either have good gear, no food, and no training, food but not training or decent gear, or more he could acquire more knowledge, but starve like a dredge while looking like one to boot. "...A greater challenge than was expected..." He exclaimed aloud, as he all but fell back against the closest building's wall...
The setting changes from Chapter 1: Under Siege to Varnic Universe
It seemed like the hottest and busiest day Popelina’s Bakery had seen in some time. Usually they would only sale around thirty baskets a day and they were now only down to two. Elmina was in the back kneading the dough and placing it on the wooden board, than placing it in the oven. By the time she was finish with making all the extra dough and placing them in the stove oven, the people had dwindled down and her hands felt like they would fall off. She quickly took her hair and wrapped it into a high bun with a piece of leather that was wrapped round her wrist, before walking out to the front of the bakery.
It was awfully quiet, despite the hustle and bustle of the travelers and town’s people. The orphans that usually occupied the front of the bakery at this time were now cuddled into a group on the side of it. Elmina stepped out of the bakery and walked up to the group, smiling softly and knelt down beside them, “What causes current actions? Please reveal tongue and expose reasons.” She asked them. Their eyes shot past her and she turned. There stood a man, a good bit taller than her, who seemed to be homeless and possible a threat to the children. One of the kids tugged at her shirt and looked up, his caramel brown eyes shining with tears, “"Monster spoken by the town stand tall, right?” He whispered. She had seen an Arkarian once. Elmina made a mistake of going too far on a trail to practice her sword fighting, an Arkarian trader was making its way down and if it wasn’t for the thick forest on the side she might have been kidnapped, or worse, killed.
“He is merely without a home, and thus you shall not bother with him. Now, hurry along, bread and milk awaits you lot in the bakery. “If you naught a single coin and your stomach empty, my bread and milk are of no charge.” She said simply before disappearing into the bakery. The kids sat at small table in back corner and chattered about kid things. Elmina placed the bread and milk in front of each kid. If she could keep them all for herself she would in a heartbeat, but for now she did what she could.
It was awfully quiet, despite the hustle and bustle of the travelers and town’s people. The orphans that usually occupied the front of the bakery at this time were now cuddled into a group on the side of it. Elmina stepped out of the bakery and walked up to the group, smiling softly and knelt down beside them, “What causes current actions? Please reveal tongue and expose reasons.” She asked them. Their eyes shot past her and she turned. There stood a man, a good bit taller than her, who seemed to be homeless and possible a threat to the children. One of the kids tugged at her shirt and looked up, his caramel brown eyes shining with tears, “"Monster spoken by the town stand tall, right?” He whispered. She had seen an Arkarian once. Elmina made a mistake of going too far on a trail to practice her sword fighting, an Arkarian trader was making its way down and if it wasn’t for the thick forest on the side she might have been kidnapped, or worse, killed.
“He is merely without a home, and thus you shall not bother with him. Now, hurry along, bread and milk awaits you lot in the bakery. “If you naught a single coin and your stomach empty, my bread and milk are of no charge.” She said simply before disappearing into the bakery. The kids sat at small table in back corner and chattered about kid things. Elmina placed the bread and milk in front of each kid. If she could keep them all for herself she would in a heartbeat, but for now she did what she could.
Leaning heavily on his staff Pantaleon stood with his back pressed against the rough wood of support beam outside a merchant shop, his left foot heel lifted slightly off the ground as he observed the people walking by. Most eyes glanced over him without hesitation, the soot in his hair and on his face making him look an aged beggar, and the few that lingered he ignored and deflected by making a show of looking for someone in the crowd though there was no one coming to meet him and had he seen a familiar face he would be moving to flee rather than greet them. Reaching up to curl his gloved left hand over his right on the smooth wood of his staff Pantaleon took note of the adventures that passed him looking for wears and merchants they mingled with, their rushed footsteps and loose lips an excellent source of information. Information that he needed if he was to leave unnoticed enough to avoid conflict since it seemed that there may be some within the very streets if roomers were to be believed.
Tilting his head to the side when another body thumped against the wall of the building he was lurking about Pantaleon examined the worn looking man with a weary smile. He was clearly either a new adventurer or a lost scholar based on appearance alone and habit born of years of staying out of the eye of those that would do him harm urged hims to offer the, really he looked to fresh faced to be called a man, boy some aid in finding him housing; however there were more pressing matters at hand. Digging in his satchel for a moment Pantaleon extracted a small poultice that smelled heavily of mint leaves and citrus, something to lift the spirit and invigorate the body, it cost him nothing to make on his travels and was one of the small gifts he kept in read supply in exchange for kind thoughts and misdirection should someone look too close.
Freezing where he stood when the sound of horns reached his ears Pantaleon let the poultice fall to the ground with a shuddered breath. Surely he was imagining the sound, that such a thing as a battle or worse a war would have be confirmed for him though louder whispers or warning from soldiers before it actually was at their door. No, surely it was some children at play further off or the wind through the crowd and wears playing a trick on him, though he supposed it couldn't hurt to look. Knocking the cloven end of his staff against the warm wood he was leaning against Pantaleon curled his shoulders forward and pushed off the building before shuffling into the crowd, the poultice forgotten on the ground as he limped forward.
Tilting his head to the side when another body thumped against the wall of the building he was lurking about Pantaleon examined the worn looking man with a weary smile. He was clearly either a new adventurer or a lost scholar based on appearance alone and habit born of years of staying out of the eye of those that would do him harm urged hims to offer the, really he looked to fresh faced to be called a man, boy some aid in finding him housing; however there were more pressing matters at hand. Digging in his satchel for a moment Pantaleon extracted a small poultice that smelled heavily of mint leaves and citrus, something to lift the spirit and invigorate the body, it cost him nothing to make on his travels and was one of the small gifts he kept in read supply in exchange for kind thoughts and misdirection should someone look too close.
Freezing where he stood when the sound of horns reached his ears Pantaleon let the poultice fall to the ground with a shuddered breath. Surely he was imagining the sound, that such a thing as a battle or worse a war would have be confirmed for him though louder whispers or warning from soldiers before it actually was at their door. No, surely it was some children at play further off or the wind through the crowd and wears playing a trick on him, though he supposed it couldn't hurt to look. Knocking the cloven end of his staff against the warm wood he was leaning against Pantaleon curled his shoulders forward and pushed off the building before shuffling into the crowd, the poultice forgotten on the ground as he limped forward.
It wasn't too long after his father died that Berkely branched away from his family in means to set out for a new adventure, hoping to make something of himself in a new town. He was mainly looking for a place to rebuild himself, find a new purpose in life, perhaps settle down and marry a woman he took a liking to and was a perfect match for him. However, in order to accomplish this ultimate dream, he would have to start out small, working for crafting shops and offering his helpful services to patrons around the lands.
When he arrived to Vantia, he had made a great impression on the crafting store owner, where he was granted a job and presented a great deal of help. Working towards a better life, Berkely knew he would have to put his all into saving as much as possible. The pay was small, and he knew all too much what the cost of his labor would be: a small amount of copper coins and a quaich of water, possibly some bread. It wasn't much to live off of, but it held this working man together.
"Berk, I bid you adieu. The common shop will be managed by your service as I'll be off on a long haul." The old store owner announced, walking towards the front of the craft shop from the storage closet near the privy, a large satchel in hand. Berkely wiped his tired, dirty hands with a damp rag as he blankly stared at the old man. After a few moments of silence, he nodded his head in a slow fashion, assuring his comprehension of the matter.
It had been a long day, and all Berkely wanted to really do at this point was relax and go home, but he couldn't just yet - he had a lot of work to still complete before he was able to rest up. The middle of the day was always the hottest for working out in the sun, and hard labor never carried an easy break for those who spent so much effort on sheltered perfection.
Berkeley walked outside of the shop, inhaling a deep breath of hot, humid air, as his shoulders were accompanied by the hands of the shop owner. Berkely lowered his head some and exhaled slowly, a slight feeling of relaxation overcoming him. Berkely cleared his throat and spoke with a low tone, his voice seeming a bit hoarse. "I won't let you down."
"I expect you not rob this place of its worth." The store owner replied, releasing his young worker's shoulders and offering a single pat on the back. As he walked away, packing his satchel full of water skins, Berkely leaned against the doorway of the shop. It was quiet now. Break time was almost up, and Berkely still had a lot of work to get done. He strode around to the back of the shop where he would continue working on a boat for his planned future endeavors.
When he arrived to Vantia, he had made a great impression on the crafting store owner, where he was granted a job and presented a great deal of help. Working towards a better life, Berkely knew he would have to put his all into saving as much as possible. The pay was small, and he knew all too much what the cost of his labor would be: a small amount of copper coins and a quaich of water, possibly some bread. It wasn't much to live off of, but it held this working man together.
"Berk, I bid you adieu. The common shop will be managed by your service as I'll be off on a long haul." The old store owner announced, walking towards the front of the craft shop from the storage closet near the privy, a large satchel in hand. Berkely wiped his tired, dirty hands with a damp rag as he blankly stared at the old man. After a few moments of silence, he nodded his head in a slow fashion, assuring his comprehension of the matter.
It had been a long day, and all Berkely wanted to really do at this point was relax and go home, but he couldn't just yet - he had a lot of work to still complete before he was able to rest up. The middle of the day was always the hottest for working out in the sun, and hard labor never carried an easy break for those who spent so much effort on sheltered perfection.
Berkeley walked outside of the shop, inhaling a deep breath of hot, humid air, as his shoulders were accompanied by the hands of the shop owner. Berkely lowered his head some and exhaled slowly, a slight feeling of relaxation overcoming him. Berkely cleared his throat and spoke with a low tone, his voice seeming a bit hoarse. "I won't let you down."
"I expect you not rob this place of its worth." The store owner replied, releasing his young worker's shoulders and offering a single pat on the back. As he walked away, packing his satchel full of water skins, Berkely leaned against the doorway of the shop. It was quiet now. Break time was almost up, and Berkely still had a lot of work to get done. He strode around to the back of the shop where he would continue working on a boat for his planned future endeavors.
In truth, Doriann had lost consciousness long before either people even paid the slightest bit of attention to him. His exhaustion far exceeded anything his body had ever experienced before, and as such, it simply had to rest. When he awoke, it was to the smell of baking bread and the sound of some horn of sorts being blown all throughout the town proper. He could not explain it, not in good faith anyway, and a dark haired man limping out of sight seemed to be in a hurry...
"What be this, abandoned on the dirt of the earth?" He wondered aloud, picking up the strange package, which, to his surprise, smelt deceptively wonderful. It reminded him of his old Master's fields to a degree. With naught a shrug, he simply pocketed the poultice, thinking that at the very least, he could sell it off for some extra currency. Maybe he could, if he tried exceptionally hard while here, achieve two of his goals, though that was unlikely to say the least. In all honesty, he was wondering what he really should do, from now until he obtained the means to achieve his dreams. He could not simply keep wondering around, aimless, easy prey. He had to find pay, to proper prepare for the next time he set out. A rumble in his stomach uninterrupted his thoughts, and Doriann nearly lost consciousness once more, struggling to get to his feet and stretch.
"Lords that may be, grant one the strength to endure the world..." The young boy muttered as he walked around to the bakery's only noticeable entrance and looked around. It was quint, to say the least. Small, but Gods, the smell was overwhelmingly mouth watering. With a shake of his weary head, Doriann opened the door and proceeded to walk inside, eyes adjusting to the dimmer light. At first, he saw no one, and them, a woman, with orange hair like fire. He immediately felt his tongue swell in his mouth, nervous beyond comprehension...so he decided it best to not say a think, and awkwardly meander about the shop until approached...
"What be this, abandoned on the dirt of the earth?" He wondered aloud, picking up the strange package, which, to his surprise, smelt deceptively wonderful. It reminded him of his old Master's fields to a degree. With naught a shrug, he simply pocketed the poultice, thinking that at the very least, he could sell it off for some extra currency. Maybe he could, if he tried exceptionally hard while here, achieve two of his goals, though that was unlikely to say the least. In all honesty, he was wondering what he really should do, from now until he obtained the means to achieve his dreams. He could not simply keep wondering around, aimless, easy prey. He had to find pay, to proper prepare for the next time he set out. A rumble in his stomach uninterrupted his thoughts, and Doriann nearly lost consciousness once more, struggling to get to his feet and stretch.
"Lords that may be, grant one the strength to endure the world..." The young boy muttered as he walked around to the bakery's only noticeable entrance and looked around. It was quint, to say the least. Small, but Gods, the smell was overwhelmingly mouth watering. With a shake of his weary head, Doriann opened the door and proceeded to walk inside, eyes adjusting to the dimmer light. At first, he saw no one, and them, a woman, with orange hair like fire. He immediately felt his tongue swell in his mouth, nervous beyond comprehension...so he decided it best to not say a think, and awkwardly meander about the shop until approached...
Artanis stepped out of his forge to get a catch of fresh air and heard the horns in the distance with drums again but louder this time. Citywatch were scrambling in the streets, with spear and shield in hand, towards the direction the horns and drums are coming from. They were urging everyone to stay inside while further investigation was made at the origins of the approaching horns and drums. When Artanis was a child he heard stories from his father regarding their enemies during the Great Sand Wars that destroyed their old homeland. The beating of drums and rippling bass of the horns were what his father described to him that came before an onslaught of destruction. The memories and words of his dead father sent a chill down his spine.
Quickly stepping back inside the forge, the young blacksmith doned his armor, broad sword, and steel shield and stepped back outside of his forge taking deep breathes. He was experiencing a mixture of heightened emotions of fear and excitement gripping him the most. Everything came together and clicked the moment a massive fiery ball starts flying towards him and over his forge into a butcher’s building and explodes on impact. Screams of horror and fear ripped through the city while Artanis could see more citywatch in larger numbers rush to where the source of the fiery ball came from. He came to the conclusion that something or someone is attacking the city and people were running away from the source of it in panic.
At this point Artanis was moving through the streets towards the source of the attack and noticed a massive dark green skinned humanoid, with patches of scales all over its body, was ripping through citywatch formation lines with a massive morningstar. It wore a breastplate style armor made of darkened steel and the skull of a creature with lots of fangs along the upper jaw and horns protruding upwards. There were several of these dark green skinned creatures smashing city watchmen and moving into the city to attack the civilians and destroy buildings. It was instinct for Artanis to turn and run to help as many people around the city as he can and he knew that there was a baker that often fed children and it was a good place to start.
Moving with the crowd of fleeing Riv’narian citizens, the blacksmith closed the gap between where he originally was and Elmina’s bakery, he stuck his head inside. “The city is burning and under siege. Escape to safer location must be taken while opportunity allows!” he urged to Elmina, the children, Pantaleon and Doriann while outside buildings could be heard exploding from the same attack Artanis witnessed from the distance.
Fear. This emotion was the facial expression Artanis was showing and not before long after he stared into the bakery did the ground below the market area begin to rumble slightly with each explosion. The forge that Artanis was working in earlier had been struck with one of those flaming bolder-like projectiles and parts of the structure and blown all over the nearby area. Taking a look down the market street, Artanis could see more of those large dark green skinned creatures charging through the city smashing everything and everyone in their path. Artanis drew his sword and stepped into the bakery and positioned himself along the wall on the right side of the doorway. The light and smell from the doorway would entice the creature to explore the building. If the others saw Artanis, he would signal them to remain quiet while the inhuman warriors ran past them, however, one of them did stop outside the building he was in. It smelled the bread and sniffed the air while slightly grunting as it approached the building slowly.
Quickly stepping back inside the forge, the young blacksmith doned his armor, broad sword, and steel shield and stepped back outside of his forge taking deep breathes. He was experiencing a mixture of heightened emotions of fear and excitement gripping him the most. Everything came together and clicked the moment a massive fiery ball starts flying towards him and over his forge into a butcher’s building and explodes on impact. Screams of horror and fear ripped through the city while Artanis could see more citywatch in larger numbers rush to where the source of the fiery ball came from. He came to the conclusion that something or someone is attacking the city and people were running away from the source of it in panic.
At this point Artanis was moving through the streets towards the source of the attack and noticed a massive dark green skinned humanoid, with patches of scales all over its body, was ripping through citywatch formation lines with a massive morningstar. It wore a breastplate style armor made of darkened steel and the skull of a creature with lots of fangs along the upper jaw and horns protruding upwards. There were several of these dark green skinned creatures smashing city watchmen and moving into the city to attack the civilians and destroy buildings. It was instinct for Artanis to turn and run to help as many people around the city as he can and he knew that there was a baker that often fed children and it was a good place to start.
Moving with the crowd of fleeing Riv’narian citizens, the blacksmith closed the gap between where he originally was and Elmina’s bakery, he stuck his head inside. “The city is burning and under siege. Escape to safer location must be taken while opportunity allows!” he urged to Elmina, the children, Pantaleon and Doriann while outside buildings could be heard exploding from the same attack Artanis witnessed from the distance.
Fear. This emotion was the facial expression Artanis was showing and not before long after he stared into the bakery did the ground below the market area begin to rumble slightly with each explosion. The forge that Artanis was working in earlier had been struck with one of those flaming bolder-like projectiles and parts of the structure and blown all over the nearby area. Taking a look down the market street, Artanis could see more of those large dark green skinned creatures charging through the city smashing everything and everyone in their path. Artanis drew his sword and stepped into the bakery and positioned himself along the wall on the right side of the doorway. The light and smell from the doorway would entice the creature to explore the building. If the others saw Artanis, he would signal them to remain quiet while the inhuman warriors ran past them, however, one of them did stop outside the building he was in. It smelled the bread and sniffed the air while slightly grunting as it approached the building slowly.
It seemed to worry Elmina that the man had not appeared yet, but she was too busy tending to the shop and kids to go back out and check on him. She had just pulled out her armor when finally the man walked in and did an internal sigh. She broke off enough bread to fill him up and then some with some milk and walked over to him. Handing him the food and drink she quietly left to finish up. Elmina was someone who only spoke when she had something to say and right now her words had failed her. The man seemed innocent enough to her that is. The children ate their bread cautiously, their eyes watching his every movement. Elmina let out a small giggle and strapped on her armor and carefully placed her sword on her hip. She never left home without it, not only for her safety, but for these children.
About two years ago the first child, Silas, in the group arrived in front of the bakery skinny and sick. Elmina took him in and cared for him until he was better. Ever since then a few more started showing up and she couldn’t just say no. Now she feeds them every day after the bakery closes.
The screams of the town’s people drew her out of her memories and back to reality. The kids were frozen in fear and huddled together. Elmina was about to step outside when the blacksmith, Artanis poked his head in, warning her of what was happening and to leave. Nodding she hurried to grab as much bread as possible and then ran over to the children, “Perilous events are upon us, obtain this bread and hasten.” She grabbed the smallest child and placed her on her hip and grabbed Silas’ hand. The other children held on to each other’s hands and followed her away from the danger that threatened the town. Elmina looked back and watched as buildings burned down and held back the anger and tears for the sake of the children.
About two years ago the first child, Silas, in the group arrived in front of the bakery skinny and sick. Elmina took him in and cared for him until he was better. Ever since then a few more started showing up and she couldn’t just say no. Now she feeds them every day after the bakery closes.
The screams of the town’s people drew her out of her memories and back to reality. The kids were frozen in fear and huddled together. Elmina was about to step outside when the blacksmith, Artanis poked his head in, warning her of what was happening and to leave. Nodding she hurried to grab as much bread as possible and then ran over to the children, “Perilous events are upon us, obtain this bread and hasten.” She grabbed the smallest child and placed her on her hip and grabbed Silas’ hand. The other children held on to each other’s hands and followed her away from the danger that threatened the town. Elmina looked back and watched as buildings burned down and held back the anger and tears for the sake of the children.
Doriann has barely obtained his precious, wonderful food. For free as well. Milk, and bread. In all honesty, the food was wonderful, better than any he had had in weeks, to say the least. He at voraciously, starving to the point that the sudden ingestion was almost too much for his fatigue and shrunken stomach to stand. He had to choke down the food, and tears as well, or else they would both come to the surface. The screams from outside were lost to him, due to his concentration, however, now more than ever, he was hearing them.
Especially after the armed and armored man stepped into the shout, raising an alarm. He felt fear rise in the back of his throat, replacing the rebellious food. This couldn't be happening. The city was supposed to be his refuge for just a while, and now, fate was once again throwing his ideas out by the wayside in reward for more chaos. He smelled the smoke. He felt the heat. He quickly followed the woman who had fed him, having no other idea of where to go for now. Doriann did not know the geography well enough to find his own way. And even if he did, or even if he wanted to help, how could he? He was weak, unarmored, with nothing but ideas and a notched, nearly broken wood cutter's axe. Useless.
However, these were all back ideas to the current situation. Right now, it was all about survival. Part of him wanted to run past the children, but...he suppressed those thoughts. They did nothing to earn his ire, and he should not take his frustration out on them. No, he was better than that..."Pray tell, to where is this group headed in its haste?"
Especially after the armed and armored man stepped into the shout, raising an alarm. He felt fear rise in the back of his throat, replacing the rebellious food. This couldn't be happening. The city was supposed to be his refuge for just a while, and now, fate was once again throwing his ideas out by the wayside in reward for more chaos. He smelled the smoke. He felt the heat. He quickly followed the woman who had fed him, having no other idea of where to go for now. Doriann did not know the geography well enough to find his own way. And even if he did, or even if he wanted to help, how could he? He was weak, unarmored, with nothing but ideas and a notched, nearly broken wood cutter's axe. Useless.
However, these were all back ideas to the current situation. Right now, it was all about survival. Part of him wanted to run past the children, but...he suppressed those thoughts. They did nothing to earn his ire, and he should not take his frustration out on them. No, he was better than that..."Pray tell, to where is this group headed in its haste?"
The setting changes from Varnic Universe to Chapter 1: Under Siege
Exodus lands on the soft, ground, feet firm. He sighs, knowing he has to harvest the souls of man for the Ancients. A farmer looks at him, his eyes wide with fear. "Oh mighty Angel of Death, have mercy on my soul!", pleads the farmer. Exodus replies by saying, "May the Ancients forever protect your soul", before harvesting the farmer's soul. Let me take control, the voice in his mind says. "No, you will not take control you monster. I won't allow it."
'Come on...' the voice says. "No!", says Exodus, clutching his forehead. The voice slowly begins to stop, Exodus's breath heaving. He wishes for it to end. He wishes for the voice to die out. He knows, the voice will return. He continues on his way, harvesting enough souls to please the Ancients. Then, he reports back to them, telling them of the voice again. "There is.. nothing we can do.", replies the Ancients. Exodus nods his head in melancholy understanding, and heads to his palace.
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Elmina Rhoswen Godfry
"From warriors ravens grew red, And with their leader a host attacked." -Taliesin
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Knowledge is one of life's basic building blocks; applying that knowledge to a physical element - now that's power!
Pantaleon Katanes
A scarred healer with feelings of duty towards all mankind in spite of his bitter regard of it.
Artanis Meridius
Son of a fallen champion from the old kingdom of Catan and wanders the lands of the new world of Riv'nar in search of adventure!
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Artanis Meridius
Son of a fallen champion from the old kingdom of Catan and wanders the lands of the new world of Riv'nar in search of adventure!
Berkely Koehneman
Knowledge is one of life's basic building blocks; applying that knowledge to a physical element - now that's power!
Pantaleon Katanes
A scarred healer with feelings of duty towards all mankind in spite of his bitter regard of it.
Elmina Rhoswen Godfry
"From warriors ravens grew red, And with their leader a host attacked." -Taliesin
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Artanis Meridius
Son of a fallen champion from the old kingdom of Catan and wanders the lands of the new world of Riv'nar in search of adventure!
Berkely Koehneman
Knowledge is one of life's basic building blocks; applying that knowledge to a physical element - now that's power!
Pantaleon Katanes
A scarred healer with feelings of duty towards all mankind in spite of his bitter regard of it.
Elmina Rhoswen Godfry
"From warriors ravens grew red, And with their leader a host attacked." -Taliesin
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8 posts · 69 characters present · last post 2014-05-14 18:52:18 »
Varnic Universe ↪ Chapter 1: Under Siege Owner: RolePlayGateway
Survive the siege on Vantia and escape through the underground prison tunnels.
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Varnic: The Massacre of the Throne
1, 2by Entity of Sin on Thu Dec 01, 2011 6:33 pm
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on Tue Jun 18, 2013 12:08 am
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Varnic: The Massacre of the Throne
Most recent OOC posts in Varnic: The Massacre of the Throne
Re: Varnic: The Massacre of the Throne
Mathew Littlepaw wrote:Why is this the featured roleplay, when no one is posting anything, and no one has posted for a month? xD It went on 11 posts, and it was only 500 words (max) per post. And it had no story! XD That's what I don't understand!
It's because the owner of the site won't take it down as a featured roleplay. I've asked him several times and he won't. How do you think that makes me feel having to reject a couple dozen characters over a whole month?
The only reason I haven't requested the roleplay to be closed is because I might revive it in the future under a different name. It's just as frustrating to me as it is to all of you. I'm trying to focus more on my business management studies in college than with roleplaying because it's a lot less frustrating to deal with than finding people that I feel are going to bring enough to the roleplaying table and stay dedicated. Perhaps some of you guys are dedicated and really want to be in the roleplay, which is awesome, but right now I can't commit to something that is going to distract me from more important activities.
Plus, I need to revamp the roleplay if I'm going to restart it again (which wouldn't be the first time).
Re: Varnic: The Massacre of the Throne
Mathew Littlepaw wrote:Why is this the featured roleplay, when no one is posting anything, and no one has posted for a month? xD It went on 11 posts, and it was only 500 words (max) per post. And it had no story! XD That's what I don't understand!
You do have a point and I just noticed this Rp today, then what do I see when I check it out?
ROLEPLAY DISCONTINUED.. WTF
Re: Varnic: The Massacre of the Throne
Why is this the featured roleplay, when no one is posting anything, and no one has posted for a month? xD It went on 11 posts, and it was only 500 words (max) per post. And it had no story! XD That's what I don't understand!
Re: Varnic: The Massacre of the Throne
For those of you that don't know or are going to look at the OOC thread to check things out for the roleplay.
Let me just say this. The roleplay is no longer continuing. Please stop submitting characters, asking to join, and anything else related to the roleplay.
Let me just say this. The roleplay is no longer continuing. Please stop submitting characters, asking to join, and anything else related to the roleplay.
Re: Varnic: The Massacre of the Throne
FrozenAtlas wrote:Is it possible for me to enter this Roleplay? or is it to late? I hope not.
I'm very humbled by how many people want to join this roleplay but it is indeed too late to join right now. I don't know when new spots will be open either. Maybe after some some time has passed in the roleplay there might be room for people to join. I'm not entirely sure right now since I have a lot of ideas in mind for it and none of them include additional roleplayers.
Re: Varnic: The Massacre of the Throne
Is it possible for me to enter this Roleplay? or is it to late? I hope not.
Re: Varnic: The Massacre of the Throne
Trying to get everyone back into posting. With school for me kicking my ass in accounting and micro economics, I'm still trying to get everyone to post. So don't wait for me to give you the okay, just post regularly, use this thread to talk with one another (if needed PM other people in the roleplay to get things moving along) and don't feel bad if you have questions about something.
I might be very busy but I have plenty of time to write a post and answer questions. :)
I might be very busy but I have plenty of time to write a post and answer questions. :)
Re: Varnic: The Massacre of the Throne
There isn't any reason to rush your post if you're recovering from a car injury. Taking care of yourself first is way more important.
Re: Varnic: The Massacre of the Throne
Sorry for my absence! Car crash sent me to the hospital with a concussion and broken wrist and this is my first lucid day. I'll be posting immediately.
Re: Varnic: The Massacre of the Throne
Things seem to be shaping up well. If there is anything that anyone is wondering about in the roleplay for the story, then please ask. I'll try and fill in the gaps as much as possible.
Re: Varnic: The Massacre of the Throne
Everyone's character right now should be hearing the horn and drums within the next set of posts. Things are about to get slightly busy for the characters. :)
Re: Varnic: The Massacre of the Throne
Perhaps you should make it clear on the info page or in the title that the roleplay is full. A lot of people, like myself; read the information, look for any Lore in the non OOC chat thread and are excited about the story.
I feel like I need to apologise for being interested and trying to join in, but I won't; there's no need to. The way you've come across from your last post to me has ensured I won't bother with hoping for a place.
Sure, it's probably frustrating that people keep submitting to your RP, but it also means you've created an interesting story. Anyway, peace and good luck with your story.
I feel like I need to apologise for being interested and trying to join in, but I won't; there's no need to. The way you've come across from your last post to me has ensured I won't bother with hoping for a place.
Sure, it's probably frustrating that people keep submitting to your RP, but it also means you've created an interesting story. Anyway, peace and good luck with your story.
Re: Varnic: The Massacre of the Throne
Well people keep submitting characters without reading this thread or talk to me ahead of time. So if people read this thread then know that you're character is going to get rejected on the grounds that the roleplay is currently full. Until I see the need to allow more people in, I will. Don't ask when and don't ask to be informed when that happens.
Re: Varnic: The Massacre of the Throne
Well, if you free up a spot let me know - I didn't realise the RP was full ._.
Re: Varnic: The Massacre of the Throne
Almost forgot this interested me the other day, but I wasn't home to bookmark it. Character submitted!
Re: Varnic: The Massacre of the Throne
I'm excited for us to start, considering the gathered party I think this will be quite entertaining.
Re: Varnic: The Massacre of the Throne
Okay everyone! Once I get BumbleDrop's character portrait and the Chapter 1 introduction post done, we'll be able to start posting and making story progression! :D
Re: Varnic: The Massacre of the Throne
SalmaiLeore wrote:
Greetings all!
After coming across this role playing, it brought back great memories! This is exactly how a role play should be organized! I am more than elated to join this group and begin an adventure!
I was thinking about what character I may be able to bring in. Something different from those already accepted. Since it looks as if I am the only female, I am attempting to determine a skill set other than that of warrior. I was thinking perhaps I could be a rogue/thief? She would have a great slight of hand as well as limited combat skills. Nothing like a warrior, but enough to be of use. She would have come from an adventurer guild , I imagine. I am hoping this is still within the realm of your ideals of this role play.
I was also looking at the Fire Emblem rendering of the female with long black hair, red top, and black wings. Of course I woudl prefer her with out the wings, dark blue eyes, and darker black hair then that. That is really all I would change.
Please let me know what you think about my idea on entering this character in. I appreciate all the feed back and suggestions possible.
Lastly, although I am extremely interested in this RP, I must get off the computer in about 15 minutes. I have school I need to leave for. :-)
I'm sorry, but I'm already working with the last two people that are joining the roleplay. After that, I'm not going to be accepting anyone else for a while.