The Dark Tower: Gunslingers of Redemption OOC

[Gunneh]

The Dark Tower: Gunslingers of Redemption

IC

This is a story based off the setting of Mid-World, a creation of Author Stephen King. In other words, it's not ours.

The Setting

"You don't know what's beyond the desert?"

Kennerly shrugged. "Some might. The coach ran through part of it fifty years ago. My pap said so. He used to say 'twas mountains. Others say an ocean... a green ocean with monsters. And some say that's where the world ends. That there ain't nothing but lights that'll drive a man blind and the face of God with his mouth open to eat them up."

- Stephen King, The Gunslinger

Welcome to Mid-World, pards! Well, for all intents and purposes, you are now departing your own reality and entering the great lands of Mid-World, a very large kingdom that prides itself on retaining the knowledge and culture of old, even in times of darkness.

At least, that was the plan.

Mid-World is made up of smaller "states" called "baronies," two of the most prominently known being the Baronies of New Caanan (Barony Seat: Gilead) and Mejis (Barony Seat: Hambry).

The culture of the world itself is based off a healthy mixture of medieval and the American Old West (Yes, you WILL see guns...but not as many as you'd see today. At least...not a lot that work like they're supposed to...). The governments are mainly a feudal based system consisting of kings and queens, lords and ladies, barons and baronesses and so on and so forth. There is also a knightly class, but that's intended for the section just below this one.

Expect deserts and plains, hills and dells, marshes and forests,and you'll have it right. Don't ever be surprised if something appears to come out of nowhere, because it generally fits.

Trust me, I've been reading the actual books for years now and King is STILL throwing me curve balls. That's the appeal though, I suppose.


Gunslingers

In the medieval ages you had brilliant warriors atop noble steeds, all of which had sworn vows of chivalry under the sign of Christ, these were the men who led battles, were the bridge between the small folk and nobility. There are no knights in Mid-World, or at least not quite of that sort, for though the Gunslingers were indeed chivalrous, as their name implies they wielded guns as opposed to swords, that's not to say such a thing was unheard of though.

I do not aim with my eye;

He who aims with his eye has forgotten the face of his father.

I aim with my hand.

I do not shoot with my hand;

He who shoots with his hand has forgotten the face of his father.

I shoot with my mind.

I do not kill with my gun;

He who kills with his gun has forgotten the face of his father.

I kill with my heart

These words are etched into the mind of a gunslinger from the time they are old enough to memorize something as important as the basis of all of their training. For a gunslinger, the gun is but an extension of the arm, a weapon more powerful than anything- but only as powerful as the wielder of such a weapon. The person behind this weapon has been known as many names before, all of which are plausible to call them. Maybe the best is simply what has been mentioned above; a gunslinger. These people are few, but their reputation proceeds them by miles.

A Gunslinger is a knight, of sorts. They are the law. A gunslinger acts as not just the reputation of a policeman, but also that of a judge, and in many cases, an executioner. They train their whole lives to become one, and even, it is not guaranteed that they shall attain the highest honor in all the land.

After a millenia of struggles and hardships to become a civilized world, there still stands people who wish to bring chaos to the land of Gilead. It seems as if the essence of rebellion itself is beginning to stir in far away lands, and is slowly crawling towards the peaceful land, daring to halt the progression of man. These chosen few, the gunslingers, the essence of law itself must put a stop to this. But can so few men single handedly halt a rebellion? The world must pray so.

A gunslinger, much like their early counterparts, often came from a line of sorts (his father was one, and his father's father, etc.) and would begin their training as an apprentice around the age of eight, give or take. Often lessons were taught to groups of about twenty boys or so all varying in ages, this being said, once the initial teaching was done, they'd be split off into groups to continue at something more their own level. If a boy's father happened to be a 'slinger (which is often the case) he was most likely home taught as well.

After reaching to about their late teens, to receive guns of his own, an apprentice can challenge their teacher, their father, or simply any full gunslinger and if they succeed the transition is made.


Current Events

Mid-World has become a very unstable place to live in nowadays. There is a constant war between the White and the Black. These two factions are destroying the land with their fighting, staining the ground we live upon with the blood of slain men. There are neutral towns, the common folk who wish for better days, spread around. The last Gunslingers have taken up a righteous task - to liberate the oppressed people from the soldiers that inhabit their villages and cities and to help them in any way they can.

However, the Gunslingers aren't as numerous as they used to be. With under a hundred 'slingers left in Mid-World, the mission seems impossible, especially when you consider the circumstances. Maybe, though, they might succeed.


The Situation

Running low on supplies, ammunition, weapons, food, etc. The Gunslingers have sent a party of three to a moderately large town in search of such things, but more importantly, they look for new recruits or simply men willing to fight. These three 'slingers are on their way to "The Planks", a neutral town inhabited by eccentric residents.


Our Role

Mid-World is your home, and it is being torn apart as the turmoil between the White and the Black festers. Are you a righteous ronin ready to remorse the ones who remarked their rampant ravaging against one another? Or are you a money-grubbing mercenary that must moor and masterfully muck up your fellow men? The choice is yours. The war consumes everything in its path, and no matter where you stand, I advise you to be sure you picked the right spot.

Since the Gunslingers have sent out a recruit group, this is probably a good chance for anyone looking to join in as a Gunslinger; but remember this - your role can be anything within reason. You're not obligated to take up the mantle of a gunslinger, but if you so choose to do so, you're not going to be a fully fledged one right off the bat. People those three gunslingers will be looking for are ones who are going to join out of desperation, be it orphans, thieves, beggars, whatever the case, these are the ones more likely to join, if for nothing else, the promise of food, shelter, and a place to sleep. You're not a bad ass right off the bat. The first leg of the story will be getting from this town to the main hold of the last Gunslingers.


The Rules

There are three moderators in this roleplay. Those three are Gunny, Donovan, and Bollocks. If we find your behavior unsatisfying or simply out of hand, we will consider evicting you from this thread. If you have an altercation with another roleplayer, please express your concerns to any one of us and we'll see if we can work out a solution. This is an advanced roleplay, and we expect those who tread the waters of elitism at its finest and strict moderation that can kill a man to know the basic rules by now. However, here's the set anyway:

-No Godmodding unless otherwise specified by a fellow player.

-No Puppeteering unless otherwise specified by a fellow player.

-Romance should be kept to holding hands, kissing, and provocative glances.

-Have fun. If you don't, we are obligated to stab you.


Character Sheet

Name: (Full name, nickname, or both.)

Age: (Keep it realistic.)

Gender: (If you're unsure what your options are, slap yourself.)

Appearance: (Picture + description, or just a description.)

History: (Keep it brief. Save some background info for the story.)

Personality: (If you put 'super cool and sexy', prepare to be shot.)

[Gunneh]

Mid-World Terms and Sayings

AN-TET: The term tet refers to people linked by the same destiny or goals. An-tet implies an intimate emotional link. It can also imply sexual intimacy.

CHAR: Most words in High Speech have multiple meanings. However, char is an exception to this general rule. Char has one meaning only, and that is death. Char is the root of many Mid-World terms, including Big Charlie Wind and Charyou Tree.

DINH: A dinh is a leader or king. Roland is the dinh of his ka-tet.

GUNNA: The term gunna appears to mean all one's worldly goods.

KA: Like many words in High Speech, ka has multiple meanings and so is difficult to define precisely. It signifies life-force, consciousness, duty and destiny. In the vulgate, or low speech, it also means a place to which an individual must go. The closest terms in our language are probably fate and destiny.

KA-MAI: Ka-mai means ka's fool.

KA-TEL: A ka-tel is a class of apprentice gunslingers.

KA-TET: Literally speaking, ka-tet means "one made from many." Ka refers to destiny; tet refers to a group of people with the same interests or goals. Ka-tet is the place where man lives are joined by fate.

KHEF: In the original tongue of the Old World, khef meant many different things, including water, birth, and life-force. It implied all that was essential to existence. At the beginning of The Gunslinger, we learn that one can progress through the khef. When we meet Roland, he has "progressed through the khef over many years, and had reached the fifth level". Those who attain the higher levels of khef (levels seven and eight) are able to have a clinical detachment from their bodies. The physical self may thirst, but the mind remains separate, a spectator.

SAI: Although used in low speech, Sai appears to be a form of address that originated in High Speech. Sai is a term of respect and can be roughly translated as sir or madam.

TET: A group of people with the same interests and goals.

THINNY, THINNIES: Thinnies are places where the fabric of existence has almost completely worn away. These cancerous "sores on the skin of existence" have increased in number since the Dark Tower began to fall.

TODASH: In Wolves of the Calla, we are told that traveling todash is similar to the state of lucid dreaming. However, unlike lucid dreaming, both body and mind travel todash.

CRY OFF: Stop.

DO YOU KENNIT?: Do you understand?

FOR YOUR FATHER'S SAKE: For honor's sake.

I CRY YOUR FAVOR/PARDON: I ask for a favor/your forgiveness.

I HAVE FORGOTTEN THE FACE OF MY FATHER: I have acted dishonorably.

I WILL SET MY WATCH AND WARRANT ON IT: I'll guarantee it; It's damn true.

I WOT: I reckon/believe so.

IF IT'S KA, IT WILL COME LIKE THE WIND/THERE'LL BE WATER IF GOD WILLS IT: If it is meant to be, it will be.

LET'S SHAKE A MILE: Let's get moving.

LIFE FOR YOUR CROP: Mid-World greeting.

LONG DAYS AND PLEASANT NIGHTS: A greeting used in Gilead.

MAY YOUR DAYS BE LONG UPON THE EARTH: Mid-World greeting.

WELL MET (I.E. "WE WERE WELL MET"): It is good that we met.

[Gunneh]

Name: Elias Ventus

Age: 42

Gender: Male

Appearance:



History: While Elias was never the quickest draw of his class, he had always had a wonderful knack for being able to think things through to the most minute detail. In the long run, that's what helped him earn his guns at the age of sixteen. For the next four years, he was a personal guard for the dinh.

In his short time on the "front lines," so to speak, Elias made quite a name for himself within Gilead: Never had a boy made it as far as he had without having been of a truly threaded stock. In all honesty, he had been an orphan raised within one of the orphanages outside of Gilead

At the age of twenty, he was offered a position as a sort of ambassador for Gilead to the other baronies and has remained in that position ever since.

Personality: Hardened by life and saddened by the war and its effect on his homeland. Still, he has quite a sense of humor when he is around people like Raystel, but he knows exactly when there isn't the room for laughter and happiness.

[HawktheThird]

Question about the universe: Are guns weapons that are used exclusively by slingers? Or is is simply that gunslingers are the most skilled? And if the former is true, what do the Blacks and Whites war with?


I'm asking because I don't plan on playing a gunslinger, but I'm wondering what to arm him with. In either case, the sheet should be up for approval in a little bit.

[Gunneh]

Guns are very scarce, but it's not uncommon to see them in the more well-to-do baronies like New Canaan or Mejis. Out in The Planks, however, I'd expect that seeing this type of weaponry would be very uncommon if it was even seen at all: Most of the guns that anyone would have lying around would be better suited as clubs rather than a long range weapon.

Other forms of weaponry would be a bow or bah (bow fires an arrow, bah fires a bolt), sword/shield, knives and all sorts of other melee types of combat.

[Guest]

Name: Claudia Sinclair

Age: Twenty Four

Gender: Female

Appearance:



History:
Claudia wandered into The Planks at the age of seventeen. She was bloody and beaten. The only thing with her besides the clothes on her back was a set of matching guns. She never told anyone where she got them. Instead, she keeps them hidden on her hips. Not much else is known about the woman since she rarely talks about her past. The pale blond female is usually seen hanging around bars, keeping the men entertained by making up wild stories for them to listen to.

Personality:
She is one tough chick. Claudia doesn't take anything from anyone. Her attitude and mouth gets her into more trouble than she is worth, but people have learned to deal with her over the years. Dia, as her father used to call her, is a story teller. She loves making up wild tales to keep people entertained and it also keeps their minds off the war.

[HawktheThird]

Name: Leagan Rousse (Le, Leag)

Age: 31

Gender: Male

Appearance:




History: Leagan is a nomad at heart, restless and perpetually dissatisfied. In the pursuit of the unknown, he has always searched for that which he considers ‘better’, by whatever means it may require. He has traveled, stolen, and killed (even claiming to have run with The White briefly), but most importantly, survived. Leagan has been living in The Planks for three years now, since he and May came looking for shelter, water, and food. This is the longest he has stayed in one place, though it isn't unusual for him to disappear for days at a time.

Personality: Though always dissatisfied, Leagan doesn't let other onto this, appears to keep a bright outlook on any situation, including the war. He comments on things with a sense of humor that is both morbid and detached. His behavior is highly variable. Though at times he retreats to seclusion, the knifeman enjoys good company, especially that of May, and his dog Torv. He is slow to anger, and therefore doesn’t go out of his way to pick fights. Nevertheless, he won’t hesitate to kill whenever he deems it necessary, but isn’t one for straight out combat, preferring to pick targets from the sidelines, and draw little attention to himself.

[Mickey]

Name: Mickey B. Quicky // Mickey

Age: 17

Gender: Male

Appearance:

History: Ricky B. Quicky, Mickey's father, is a gunslinger. Fueled on by his parent's own personal ambition, Mickey was forced to learn the art of 'slinging. In time, he learned to appreciate the Gunslinger ways. When it came time that he felt ready to challenge for his guns, he failed miserably. The shame still lingers as a dark cloud hanging low overhead wherever he goes. He tries his best to forget the memory, but it always happens to crawl back into his skull.

Personality: Mickey B. Quicky is very arrogant. He believes that he's one of the fastest gun draws in the entire Mid-World, though he might very well be, but that sole fact makes him cocky. At times he will be sullen and bitter as the memory of failure invades his thoughts. Overall, his anger and angst are propelled by his youth.

[Guest]

Name: Raystel "Ray" Rea (pronounced Ray)

Age: 25

Gender: Male

Appearance: Description:Raytsel is around 6'1 some could go as far to call him lanky, but he has a bit of a muscular build though not a body builder of any sorts. With his piercing blue eyes and messy somewhat ruffled dark brown hair making him somewhat good looking though most women don't pay him much mind, and he always has an easy look on his face and he's prone to grinnin' more often than not. His clothing attire includes a pair of loose denims with a pair of leather boots with a loose grey shirt. Over all this he wears a large brown tattered poncho that falls over his arms and almost down to his feet.

History: Ray was born the son of a prominent gunslinger better known as The Judge for his tendency to play said roll. He earned his guns at the average age and has since then been doing his best to worm out of his old man's shadow.

Personality: He's got a mouth and is (excuse the phrasin') not afraid to use it, which is something that's gotten him in trouble more times than he can count. That about sums it up.

[Attie]

Name: Mariah White

Age: Twenty-Seven

Gender: Charming, Seductive, and Dangerous Female.

Appearance: Mariah

Spoiler:

Mariah's hair is wild and firey, quite literally. Her eyes are as dark as the flames, an amber color of the flame's brighter beauty, much similar to her attitude. She carries herself about like she knows her way, independently, and doesn't need any help, when really, anyone who could see through a facade knows she's lost and looking for her purpose, or a purpose in general. Sometimes, her eyes lie sad, trailing against the tan of her skin as she wonders why they aren't dirty and caloused like those of heroes and heroins. For an older women going on age, this 5'6 beauty seems not to have seen outside of what she's had to.

History: The Planks is Mariah's home, born and raised, for as much as anyone else needs to know. She herself enjoys the tales that Claudia Sinclair spoke about when she'd come around, and has been secretly dreaming that someday, she might go on such an adventure too, despite believing that most of them were probably myths. Mariah spends her time trying to make life remain in The Planks, while war surrounds them. She smiles and gives the boys around town the encouragement they need with her inspiring words of jokes and enthusiasm, pretending she could hold her own if she ever needed to, and that all they needed was to end the war goin' on for her, and she'd make them dinner. She's an absolutely great cook and housekeeper, made for brighter days and better things. Someday.

Personality: Mariah has a knack for getting herself into trouble, with or without effort. Who can blame her, with looks that could kill, the tongue of a snake charmer, and the body of a woman who probably knows what's doing without having to of had much experience. She hard working, all the same, and though many secrets are spilled into her ears, her loyalty lies true. Her heart is of gold, it's just her bad luck that leads her drawn the other direction.

[Weiss]

This character is very much a tribute to my favorite Old West character, ‘Doc’ Holliday. Despite that, however, I hope to play him in a way that will make him unique, so try not to chastise me for: (a) basing my character on a historical figure or (b) not playing said historical figure down to the letter. In the case of the latter, such is not my intent to begin with.

Name: Vincent “Doc” Holliday
Age: 29
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Vincent Holliday stands at six feet tall, flat and even, with a thinly muscled frame withered slightly by months of a hampered appetite and constant sickness. In spite of his illness, he presents himself as a gentleman as often as he can afford, dressed from head to toe in stylish suits, even when taking part in less savory dealings.

His features bear a ruggedly handsome quality, skin lightly tanned with stubble lining the smooth and even contours of his face. His hair, deep brown and mostly straight, is often slicked back, though it is commonly hidden by a fedora or bowler. His eyes, starkly contrasting his tendency for shadowy tones and the natural brown of his thick tresses, are a pale gray, almost lifelessly dull and bearing a gaze that seems only vaguely interested in anything.

History: Vincent Holliday was born and raised in New Caanan, enjoying a life more privileged than most in Mid-World can claim. From the time he was a boy, he was raised on morality with a firm education that would allow him ample opportunities to make a good living even in harsh conditions.

His stately upbringing would be an ironic prequel to grave misfortune, with the young Doctor Vincent Holliday contracting an illness from one of his patients that would threaten his very life. With no treatment available for the disease called Tuberculosis – more commonly referred to as Consumption – Holliday decided to move to The Planks, where the dry and temperate climate might help to prolong his inevitably dwindling life.

One might say that the prospect of dying made Vincent Holliday the man he’s become. With the Reaper’s shadow looming behind him at every step, he has taken on a brash and standoffish quality that could be perceived by some as a death wish. His once-cheerful and amiable nature became a mere layer of the proverbial onion, as the deeply seeded sarcasm and wit for which he is renowned today began lacing itself into every sentence that slipped between his paling lips.

Knowing that his time is coming, and that he can do little to stop it, Doc Holliday has decided to live his life without regrets, even if it means drowning his sorrows in alcohol and smoking his way into a rapidly approaching grave.

Personality: Vincent Holliday is known for many things by many people, but to have three separate individuals recount their view of this peculiar character would likely yield descriptions of three different people. The truth is that Holliday’s mannerisms sway in the wind like the grasses of the open plains, led by his whimsical nature and a strangely adamant sense of loyalty. Some see him as a swindler and a fork-tongued conman, while others respect him for his refined and educated disposition. Some know him for his medical practices, curing the sick and healing the wounded, while others fear the man known for being the quickest draw in Mid-World.

Neither account would be wholly right, or entirely wrong. The truth is simply that the man called Doc Holliday is more complicated than one might guess at a glance. They might see his deep brown hair, slicked back and neatly tucked beneath a stark black fedora and think him a well-bred gentleman of the upper class. Such a presumptuous summary of his demeanor would be further advanced by the matching suit of colorless pitch that he wears on a regular basis, a long jacket worn open with a deep gray vest and a white, long-sleeved shirt beneath. Everything from the waist down is an unbroken canvas of black, from his leather belt and neatly creased slacks to the polished leather boots.

Even his personality is not dislikeable. An avid gambler, he commonly finds himself at a local saloon keeping entertained with cards and stripping fellow patrons of their earnings. On a rare few occasions, he’ll take to the piano, dancing his lithe and graceful fingers across the keys in a display of musical prowess that few would expect in the current age of war and slaughter. All the same, he is a doctor – a man who seeks to heal the land by saving her people – and is much better suited to the piano than the revolver.

At least, that would be the impression.

A closer inspection of this jovial character might explain the less savory profiles that one might garnish from the citizens of here and there. That same fedora, cocked forward at just the right angle to cast a mask of shadow over Holliday’s dim, gray eyes, is merely a tool behind which he hides an ever-calculating gaze.

Likewise, his very nature, temperate as the wind-swept pastures, is laced with sarcasm and a provocative wit that prods at the tender nerves of less patient men. His thin fingers that dance so well across the piano keys are all the quicker when drawing his twin revolvers from their holsters, and it would be no fairy tale to say that the Doc near as often caused an injury as healed one. That’s not to say that he’ll readily pick a fight, but his list of treated patients is anything but long.

One could say that the Doc is simply a man who chooses his times and acts at the behest of his own whims. However, when Mid-World calls for heroes in its time of greatest need, none will be quicker to the saddle than good Doc Holliday.

[Gunneh]

You guys are all accepted and you're more than welcome to go ahead and pot in the IC

[Bird of Hermes]

I decided that I am going to take my chances and try something difficult. I thought about it last night and I decided that I would like to join this role-play. If I don't throw myself out there and try to put myself in a situation to improve, I never will.

So, will you have me in this fine role-play?

Oh. If it is a 'yes', do you need an established gunslinger or a potential recruit?

[Gunneh]

A potential recruit, Hermes You're more than welcome to join

[Bird of Hermes]

Thanks! I will see what I can do as far as a character sheet as soon as possible.

[Weiss]

I'll be working on my post this evening, and will try to have something up before tomorrow. Had to fix another leaky pipe today, and then we ran into a bit of a situation involving a dog and her pup, both of whom it seems we are now sheltering in your breezeway.

Point being, I'm a bit behind, but no worries.

Edit: Alright, so I'm being dragged out this evening. My post should still be up some time tonight! I am nocturnal, after all.

[Weiss]

Well, it's much later than I expected it to be, but I've posted. Not nearly as much to it as I had planned, but it was getting rather long already. If I had put in the details of how he met Elias and gone into vivid description of the saloon, it might have taken all day. Besides, I doubt anyone wants to read all that from the get-go.

Anyway, next up!

[Attie]

I am brainstorming! My post should be up no later than tomorrow morning, early as tonight!

[Bird of Hermes]

Name: Baine "the Desert Wind" Maii
Age: 29
Gender: Female
Appearance:

History: Baine isn’t much to talk about her past. It’s not that she doesn’t think of it. It is quite the contrary. There is not a day that goes by that she doesn’t see the past that haunts her. Despite her reluctance to share personal information with strangers, there are three things that seem to get her noticed by all the wrong people. The first is her inescapable reputation as one of the fastest stagecoach robbers of the desert region. The second is the brand that lies on the left side of her face that marks her as a once captured outlaw. The third is the old and broken gun she carries on her hip that bares the words “Dai the Thief Catcher” on it. Most people won’t recognize these signs. Some people will. It’s the latter that she needs to worry about.
Personality: Grass-green eyes, burnt auburn hair and sun-touched skin are paired with a petite frame and an outlaw expression. As much as Baine has tried to keep a low profile since her heisting days, it’s become rather difficult, especially when you have no allies to your name, but all the enemies in the world. Baine is solitary and rarely speaks aloud unless it is necessary, lest she draw unwanted attention. However, the sly remarks she makes under her breath and behind teeth that hold a lit cigarette seem to be heard more often than not. She keeps a calm, collected and devil-may-care composure at all times, except when in the midst of a fight. Then it is all rage.

[The Melancholy Spirit]

Name:
Gabriel Carbonera

Age:
Twenty-eight

Appearance:


History:
Gabriel came into The Planks when he was twenty-one, a week or so off from the day Claudia Sinclair showed up in town. He came into town with a solemn expression, a revolver riding low on his right hip and a long, single shot breach loader rifle. Gabriel keeps to himself mostly, occasionally seen around the saloon or propped up against a building in a secluded area. The highly perceptive individual might notice that he keeps an eye on Claudia much of the time and during the other always has an ear to gossip and his eyes keen on the horizon. He does his best to keep this hidden, however.

Personality:
Gabriel isn’t nearly as cold as most people have come to think of him. His is simply calm and, one might say, overly cautious. He doesn’t particularly trust anyone, least of all Gunslingers. He has a nonchalant, standoffish attitude towards the war as if it didn’t concern him in the slightest.

[Claymore]

Name
Yannick Five-Stones, though he and his sister are perhaps the only ones to remember his real name. He usually goes by Yan
Age
21
Sex
Male
Appearance
Tall ( 6 foot 1) and lean he is according to most villagers the spitting image of his Da. He has a lean face with a strong, narrow nose, and long, slightly-curling light brown hair. His eyes are grey-green but compared to his sister's eyes they lean more to grey. He usually wears an old jeans and depending on how warm it is a t-shirt and one of his Da's shirts. When he goes hunting with his sister he usually carries his bow and the bastard-sword his Da made for him.

Background
Twin brother to San, he has spent his whole life in Planks. His Da however was swordsman before he married their Ma and became a smith, and he has taught Yan and his sister everything about sword and bow. They live a bit away from the village, and were quite happy but when the war between the Blacks and the Whites broke out their Da felt the call of duty and went to fight with the Gunslingers. News stopped coming soon after while however and it is suspected that he died. Yan took over his Da's job while San continued learning the art of healing from their Ma and life went on. Ma however fell ill two months ago and despite her knowledge she died within two weeks. San has taken over Ma's position but most villagers don't trust her skills because she is still quite young. This amongst others has left the twins with the feeling that they don't fit anymore and they have been making plans of leaving Planks and join the Gunslingers just like their Da.

Personality The quieter of the twins, he usually is the one to quiet down his more fiery sister. He has however quite a temper himself sometimes and can be just as mischievous as his sister.

Name
Alexandra Five-Stones though she and her brother are perhaps the only ones to remember her real name. She usually goes by San or San the Second. Their Da was also nick-named San.
Age
21
Sex
Female though it wouldn't be the first time she has been mistaken for a small male

Appearance Not especially tall ( 5 foot 6) slender, wiry and with the curves where it counts, San still manages to be mistaken for boy on occasions because the men's clothes she wears and her very unlady-like manner. She has an oval face with a small, upturned nose, long brown hair and the same green-grey eyes as her brother. Hers tend to be slightly more green however. Whenever she goes out hunting with her brother, she takes her bow and the slender twin swords her Da made for her.

Background: Like her twin brother Yan she has never truly left Planks. Her Da taught her everything about fighting with sword and bow despite the fact she is a girl and she is just as good with her twin swords as her brother is with his bastard-sword. While her brother became a smith under their Da's tutelage San learned the art of healing from her Ma and though her education was complete by the time their Ma died the villagers don't trust her nearly as much as her Ma. This has left her with the feeling she is not needed anymore and she has been actively making plans with her brother to leave Planks and go fight with the gunslingers.

Personality Tomboyish, fiery and merry she is usually the one with the crazier plans, leaving her brother to talk her out of them. She can be serious too however and once she sits down her plans tend to be much more tought through.

[Guest]

By the way, you're accepted claymore.

[Bird of Hermes]

We have a ton of people now. Hopefully, that means this thing will last.

Anyway, my first post is up.

[Attie]

I am very confused, Claymore, on when you are speaking and when you are not. Can I request that you use " " s like everyone else so that I can understand? I'm sorry to be a bother, it's just that my dyslexia hates me enough as is. =[

[Bird of Hermes]

I am very confused, Claymore, on when you are speaking and when you are not.

It confuses me as well. Dialogue should be treated as such. Use quotation marks definitely. If you want to make it stand out, you can use bold or italics if you are afraid it will be missed.

[Gunneh]

It would also really be nice if you waited to know if you're accepted before you post, Claymore. I'm going to have to ask you to take down your post, because the RP is closed for now.

Edit: Ok...I was mistaken. If you make the above edits that the others suggested, you're good to go.

[Attie]

By the way, you're accepted claymore.

[HawktheThird]

My post should be up soon.

[Bird of Hermes]

Just to clarify, it's night in the roleplay.

Sorry. For some reason I thought it was day.

[Gunneh]

I'm sorry, Claymore: It should have been addressed a bit sooner, but Donovan and I have talked it over and we'v already got about 10 people in the roleplay as it is. I'd said it before, but not to Donovan (my mistake, I apologize), that the roleplay is closed, and I'll have to stick by that because it's not exactly fair that I've turned away others and then it look like I've let a new person join.

I apologize once again, and I promise that you'll be the first on my list to contact if another spot opens up

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