Where The Heroes Die[OOC](Closed)

[Guilty Carrion]

“There is nothing to be won here. As we march deeper, everyday, the Clans push back harder, with more and more of our men succumbing to their savagery daily. Ka’urderen’s walls loom over us, scarred by centuries of conflict and bloodshed, and yet it still shrugs off our mightiest efforts to breach it. The men, they can feel the pulse that this place runs with, and it terrifies them. How many have died on this field in battles past? Thousands and I fear that we may be next. We have backed the great beast into its corner, but it feels neither our bows nor our spears. It sees only our throat, and soon, it shall come for it.”
- Commander Rikel
Year 56, Age of Unity

Kiuas.

The Frozen North.

A land of snow covered forests, eternally still marshes, and mighty fjords. Titanic mountains pierce the sky, circled by flights of ravenous wyverns, eternally seeking their next meal. Howling wolves and lumbering bears lurk behind every tree, striking those deemed unfit to live in the land of strength. Blankets of glistening snow burying the dead for the eternal winter, awaiting the long dormant spring to free them from icy torment.

It is a place of no remorse, no mercy, and no forgiveness.

Here, the Clans make their home. Since their birth in times long forgotten, the Clans have waged war amongst themselves and against the kingdoms that tried to take their land. Clansmen are strong, ruthless, and brutal to the core. Taught to fight from their birth, they are mighty opponents in battle, and are rumoured to cleave through ranks of men alone without suffering a scratch. Many have tried to bring them to kneel, only to fall victim to the great beast they tried to enslave.

Born into the Clans, you have lived your life for the glory of battle, and the thrill of victory. Now, as you enter your prime, you are called to ride south, to the borderlands, and bring news of the weaker clans, and their battles. Prepare yourself, and ride forth for glory!
_______________________________________________________________________

Rules

I am GM, and as such, my word is law, and final. You don’t like it, well, tough luck. I’m fine talking things over, and hearing concerns, but I’m the be all, end all of decisions.

Realism. You won’t be slaying hundreds of men in battle. Not even on a good day. Human body just can’t handle that much work and you’d likely be overwhelmed anyway. There will be limitations, and if you decide that rushing a squad of archers is intelligent when you have no shield…well, I’m not to blame for the inevitable puncture holes that you’re going to get.

I’m allowing gore. I’m allowing you to brutally murder your opponents. Now, please keep in mind, not everyone wants to read three pages of intestine spillage, but you’re welcome to type brief, yet detailed descriptions of the numerous corpses you’ll find or make along the blood stained path of a Clansmen.

Courtships, and its possible outcomes, are welcome and encouraged in this rp. However, if you decide to write a scene of a carnal basis, I’m going to request you spoiler tag it, so those not comfortable with such imagery have fair warning going into it.

I’m going to let you make a clan, if you so choose. However, you’re only allowed to make a lesser or high clan, not one of the Great Clans, and certainly not the Lord of Ka’urderen. All the clans are subject to my approval, and need to be reasonably made. If I find your clan to be over-powered, I will ask you to nerf it down. When your clan is done, we’ll work a way for your character to be with the rest of the group.

I might add to this, as the RP goes on. If I do, I’ll let you know, and the rule will come into effect immediately.

Enjoy yourself. My most important rule. If you aren’t having fun, talk with people, see if you can get back into it, and if not, feel free to let me know, and I’ll either store your character, or send them into the receiving end of a spear.

Clan Info

General Info

No matter the Clan, all of its members are trained how to wield a weapon and fight, be they male or female, from youth. As such, all are rather skilled in their chosen weapon style, although most within a clan stick with that clans preferred fight style, as it’s the style that shall most likely have teachers available to teach it.

Forts and Keeps function as the symbol of status in Kiuas, with the size and defensive power of the clan’s keep determining its skill and power over the other clans in the area. The forts rarely hold a clan for long, as the lesser clan’s battle for them constantly in an attempt to get themselves higher in the eyes of other clans, but the constant battle makes it difficult for the lesser clans to pose much of a threat to the high clans.

High clans occupy larger forts, and smaller keeps, and are much more stable than the lesser clans. These clans don’t receive tributes from the lesser clans, knowing full well that to demand them would risk an alliance capable of overthrowing them. High clans are strong, but they pale in strength compared to the Great Clans.

Occupying the six Great Keeps, the Great Clans are second only to the Lord of Ka’urderen, and are paid tributes by most clans in the area, to ensure that their power doesn’t come crashing down on those who refuse their tribute. Capable of fielding numerous warriors of fearsome skill, the Great Clans are the only ones who hope to stand any chance against the walls of Ka’urderen, and even then, any battle to take the fable fortress of the north is a bloody and brutal business.

Religion

The most commonly accepted and practiced ‘religion’ of the clans is the worship of Mother Ursa, and Father Lupus.

The two deities take their form as that of a bear, for Mother Ursa, and a wolf for Father Lupus. Each god only bears a single eye, Ursa her left, and Lupus his right, which the clans believe to be the sun and the moon.

Worship is simple, and rarely involves anything other than personal prayer and adorning oneself with the pelt of their patron animal, to become ‘closer’ to their deity.

These two figures are believed to have created the land of Kiuas, which the Clansmen call home. Before the birth of Kiuas, Mother Ursa would burn the earth with her fiery eye each day, and Father Lupus would freeze the sky itself each night with his haunting gaze. One day, at twilight, however, Mother Ursa refused to relinquish her watch over the world, denying Father Lupus his time. Enraged, he rose and attacked Ursa, who fought fiercely to maintain her watch. The two battled endlessly, leaving the world locked in an endless twilight as they traded blows that would kill any man thrice over. Lupus’s fangs tore deep into Ursa’s flesh, and spilt her blood on the ground below. From the great tide of crimson, the rivers and fjords were born, swift and strong. Ursa’s claws struck hard, shattering some of Lupus’s fangs, which crashed to the earth. The pieces became the mountains and hills, unyielding and proud. The Mother’s earthy fur drifted across the land, and from it, sprang countless forests, ancient and wise. The Father’s shimmering hair danced on the winds, freezing the ground beneath it in an un-melting ice.

But, as the two waged endless battle, something happened below. The blood of the Mother found the fang of the Father, and as the two met, something new came to be. Birthed from Mother Ursa’s passion and Father Lupus’s fury, the first Clansmen came into the world. The two gods were shocked at the sight, and stared in silent wonder at their creation.

For a time, the heavens were still, before the two retreated back to their posts, weakened, yet content to watch over their newborn.

Government

All clans are governed by their respective Potentate or Doyenne, who might refer to a circle of advisors usually composed of family, elders and the best warriors of the clan. The Potentate/Doyenne holds absolute power over their clan, only relinquishing it at death, or when defeated in single combat.

All clans, however, answer to the Lord of Ka’urderen, whom functions as the ruler of Kiuas in the eyes of the world. The Lord is without equal, a warrior beyond compare and to question his/her command is to invoke the wrath of the most powerful clans in all the land. All clans pay tribute to the Lord, and the Lord remains the only force capable of uniting the clans under a single banner in times of war.

Important Clans

The Benaisse

The Benaisse are one of the great clans, and arguably second only to the Lord of Ka’urderen. In fact, ten years ago, the Benaisse were the rulers of Ka’urderen, only to be defeated and cast out of its halls by the forces of the current Lord, the infamous Vigrid. Residing in the Southern Keep, the Benaisse are well known for their skill with the axe and shield, as well as the strength and endurance of their horses, some of the finest mounts in the southern lands.

The Benaisse hold a deep belief and reverence in Mother Ursa, and Ursa’s eye is centric on their banner, which features the eye on the Clan’s shield, with crossing axes behind it. Bear furs adorn the keeps walls and floors, and their image is used heavily in Doyenne Tórfa’s Hall, her throne decorated with their skulls.

The Benaisse command respect from almost all the clans, and receive many tributes despite their reduced status. Lead by Tórfa Benaisse, Doyenne of the Clan, and wife of the former Lord of Ka’urderen, Eilif Benaisse. Tórfa is a stern woman, and she is just as powerful as the male Potentates of the other Great Clans. Her mind is a sharp as the axe on her hip, and she spares no one from her criticism, especially those of her own clan.

The Skallagrim

Little is actually known about the Skallagrim, the enigmatic clan formed by the Lord of Ka’urderen, Vigrid. Formed by merging dozens of the lesser clans, and several higher clans, the Skallagrim are the largest and most powerful clan in Kiuas, united by the indomitable will of Vigrid.

(Information will be added as the rp continues. Your clans will also be placed here.)


Character Sheet

Username: (Derp de derp)
Character Name: (Obvious much? Keep the setting in mind, please)
Gender: (I ain’t explaining this)
Age: (24-32)
Appearance: (Picture or description. Armour be realistic please. No metal armours.)
Personality: (Please be diverse. Just because you’re a skilled warrior doesn’t mean you’re an auto-grim serious bastard. What’s so wrong with being happy?)
History: (Dosen’t need to be all bad, eh? And, no, you‘re not going to be masters of the art of battle. You‘re good, but you aren‘t the best. If you were the best, you wouldn‘t be taking orders.)
Weapon Style: (You get ONE weapon style. Realism rules here, so think on your option.)


Clan Template

Clan name: (Things like Frost Lords and Ice Warriors will not be accepted. Look at the examples provided above. Stuff like that please.)
Clan Location: (Kiuas is a land of frozen tundra, sprawling coniferous forests, sky cracking mountains, and racing rivers. It’s pretty diverse, and will allow most ideas a place. It’s ALL cold though. ALL of it.)
Clan Potentate/Doyenne: (This is the leader of your clan, they don’t need a CS, just a name, and maybe a brief description incase they get mentioned in the rp.)
Clan Status: (Lesser or High Clan?)
Clan Weapon Style: (What do most of your warriors fight with? Please note that if your character doesn’t use this fight style, it makes it difficult for them to find a teacher, and they will likely be either self taught, or have trained with another clan.)
Religious Beliefs: (Does your clan worship Mother Ursa or Father Lupus? Both? Some twisted version of them? Be creative! Most clans worship differently.)
Clan Speciality: (Fighting is not an option. This refers to things like forging, horseback riding, fletching, stone working. Something that makes you useful beyond killing enemies)
Clan Info: (This isn’t required, but if you want to flesh out your clan’s day to day life and their background, I’m not going to complain at all. If anything, this will allow you to better play your character, and enable conversation about clans between characters.)







I hope to make a map of Kiuas at some point and get it up here, but we’ll have to see if Mother Ursa favours me on that. For now, this should be enough to get you going, and please, feel free to ask me any questions you have in PM, or in Chat if you’re on. Let's get cracking, shall we?

[Shadow Moonseye]

Well, I'm just gonna come out and say this: Mine won't be done till probably the end of next week.

Also, for everyone's information, the clan I plan on making is based off the Huns. This means that they're gonna be crazy good with horses and archery.

[Guest]

I will be working on my sheet. It might take a while as I am going to be gone for half of winter break. Really sorry about that plague.

[Crazy Hobo]

Username: Crazy Hobo
Character Name: Hallvard Eldgrim
Gender: Male
Age: 25
Appearance: Hallvard stands at a reasonable height of 5'9" and has a lithe, well muscled frame that has clearly undergone a rigorous training regiment. Hallvard's hair is a wild mess of black that reaches past his shoulders, often times obscuring his dull gray eyes, although he does keep it from impairing his vision during battle by using a leather cord. Hallvard also has many scars across his body from different skirmishes with other clans. Most are not worth much mention, but he does have one scar that slices through his left eyebrow and across his forehead to disappear into his hair. Hallvard's armor consists of a chest piece of overlapping pieces of leather, many of which are connected by small pieces of iron, sturdy leather grieves, soft leather boots, and leather bracers. It offers decent protection, but also allows Hallvard to move relatively well in battle. He also likes to pain his face in a swirling mix of red and black to strike fear into his opponents.
Personality: Honestly, Hallvard is a sadistic asshole, and he really doesn't mind. He finds joy in slowly destroying his enemies in battle, and causing pain. These things tend to bleed into life outside the battlefield. Hallvard has a deeply dark sense of humor, finding glee in some incredibly sick topics. He also has very little tolerance for happy, optimistic people, and tends to have... violent streaks.
History: Hallvard was born into a clan where only the strong were afforded opportunities. Also, their culture bread sadism through the particular brand of religion they had adopted. From a very early age he was tested several times to see whether he was up to the necessary physical standards of the clan, and was one of the lucky ones that passed. Life was pretty standard from then on out, he spent most of his youth training in combat and strategy with various teachers from within the clan. The clan members seemed to teach a very aggressive, pain inflicting style of combat; a style that Hallvard found he enjoyed very much. Once he was deemed fit to join his clan in battle at the age of seventeen, Hallvard's life started to become a life strung together by battles with other lesser clans.

His clan stayed mostly out of the way of higher clans, being small in number, so Hallvard never saw too fierce of combat, but he certainly longed to siege the keep of a larger clan. The long and bloody combat would have been a beautiful thing to participate in. Luckily for Hallvard, while he wouldn't be storming any of the high clan's keeps, he was afforded the opportunity to possibly revel in larger combat. His clan's Potentate decided that an alliance with the Benaisse would be beneficial for the clan as a whole, so he ordered warriors to accompany a shipment of iron on the long journey to the Southern Keep. Hallvard was one of the warriors that jumped at this chance. The south was fabled to have an amazing amount of large battles, and Hallvard just couldn't resist.
Weapon Style: Hallvard fights with a morning star and a shield.


Clan Template

Clan name: The Eldgrim
Clan Location: The Eldgrim's territory lies in the far north of Kiuas, around a large bog with only one fort to call their own.
Clan Potentate/Doyenne: Ivar Eldgrim is a short man and a relative 'pretty boy', but don't let his height and looks deceive. He is a brutally efficient killer, and likes to let it be known.
Clan Status: Lesser Clan
Clan Weapon Style: Most warriors of the Eldgrim fight with some form of mace and a shield, although there are many that choose to forgo the shield.
Religious Beliefs: The worship a perverted form of Father Lupus named Kollsvien. He differs from Father Lupus by the fact that he is a god that encourages inflicting pain and suffering on others as a holy thing. Bringing pain to your enemies elevates you above them and brings you closer to Kollsvien.
Clan Speciality: The Eldgrim take living next to a bog as an advantage, the harvest peat and bog iron and use the peat to smelt the iron into usable forms. After that they give the iron to the Great Clans and the Lord of Ka'urderen as a tribute.
Clan Info: The Eldgrim have been around for a while, and their existence used to be a rather horrid one. They were always on the move, running from larger clans and generally living on the brink of extinction. That is where they found Kollsvien. Other clans were causing them pain and suffering, so they must be closer to the gods. This religious ideal was adopted rather quickly, and even caused them to find a more permanent settlement along a bog. There they found a way to get the larger clans off of their backs, and create a permanent fort that they could defend and attack from.

Life in the Eldgrim clan nowadays is more stable than their early years, but it is much more brutal. They have a surprisingly low birth rate, coupled with the fact that if a child is not deemed strong enough they are simply put to work harvesting peat and bog iron. It makes for a rather sad existence, because often times warriors will grow bored and they will beat the peat harvesters for the simple joy and entertainment value it brings. This way of life also prevents the Eldgrim from getting a higher place among the clans. They simply don't have enough people to do so.

[Guest]

Username: Elric Gharial

Character Name: Ravin Kel

Gender: Male

Age: 24

Appearance: Ravin is five food eight with wiry muscle stretching over his compact, lithe body. His head and face are covered in coarse black hair cropped short to his skull. He stands in a half-crouch the majority of the time, like an arctic wolf ready to pounce on it's prey and always speaks just loud enough for those around him to hear. His brilliant green eyes dart from side to side suspiciously, tracking every twitch those around him make.

Personality: Ravin is typical of his clan in that he sees the world around him as a hunting ground waiting to be explored and full of challenging prey. He sought to earn his rank as Pack Leader by bringing down a Grizzly Bear with no assistance, but was wounded almost fatally by the great beast. He was punished for his failure by having the mark of a bear's claw, the sign of failed ambition, carved into his back by the Clan leader. He now seeks to prove himself to his Clansmen and one day lead one his Clan to greatness, even replacing Tavar Kel himself as Potentate after proving his mettle.

Weapon Style: Longspear and Javelin

Clan name: Farras Kel
Clan Location: Clan Farras Kel resides in the Taiga forest on Kiuas' border.

Clan Potentate/Doyenne: Tavar Kel, a prideful and cunning hunter who delights in consuming the still-beating hearts of his kills. A somewhat controversial practice of he and his tribe is that of cannibalism. Should another Clan become brash enough to invade the Taiga, they are soon hunted down and slaughtered, their skulls mounted on pikes at the edge of Kel territory as a warning to hopeful invaders, and their bodies eaten at a feast honoring Father Lupus for allowing them to hunt their most cunning prey.

Clan Status: Lesser Clan

Clan Weapon Style: The hunters of Farras Kel specialize in the javelin, and use the longspear for larger "prey."

Religious Beliefs: As hunters, the warriors of Kel revere Father Lupus, for he gives them cunning, and Mother Ursa, for she provides them with prey. Without Father Lupus, they would not be able to hunt, and without Mother Ursa, they would have nothing to hunt down. They view their prey with utmost respect, and reverentially use every part of their kill, even incorporating the bones of their prey into the decorations of their fortress.

Clan Speciality: Clan Farras Kel is renowned for it's tracking skills, and you will never find a better hunter in all of Kiuas. They are known for hunting even the most dangerous of prey, the wyverns that sometimes hunt the Taiga.

Clan Info: Waste is an unknown concept to a Clansman of Kel. Every part of their kill is sacred, and nothing is to be left unused. Every kill is completely used, the skin and fur make clothing and armor, respectively, the bones make spear heads and adorn the temple walls, the meat and organs are eaten, and anything unfit to be eaten is used as bait.

[Deadpan]

Username: Deadpan

Character Name: Jah'Kol Drai

Gender: Male

Age: 27

Appearance: Tall at an even six feet, lithe, with dark hair. Not built by any means, but enough strength to slip a blade into a belly and to draw a bowstring. Pale eyes that often appear glazed over, but observe everything, and thin lips that rarely open to voice an opinion, unless necessary.

In terms of armor, Jah wears little. Leather bracers and a hardened leather cuirasse is all that he wears to protect himself. Other than that, his linen pants, shirt, and short leather boots are all the same dark brown color, and his cowled cloak is a dark green. He often wears the cowl up, hiding his eyes in shadow.

Personality: Quiet and reserved, but very observant. He prefers to communicate with facial expressions and knowing looks than words. When he does speak, it is an even-keeled, low voice that is somewhat hesitant but always firm. He is a very composed person, and it takes nothing short of physical harm to make him flinch. Even though he is not very strong, he does have a very high tolerance for pain. Although his demeanor seems to suggest otherwise, he is actually a very kind and optimistic person, to those he knows and trusts. However, getting to know him can be a challenge, due to his enigmatic nature and the fact that most other clans despise his own.

History: Jah'Kol was orphaned at a young age. His mother suffered through pregnancy and died at childbirth, and his father was killed during an attempted clan raid against an opponent's fort. He was adopted by Sufkin Drai, the Potentate of his clan, because Jah's father had sacrificed himself in order to cover the leader's retreat from battle. Sufkin settled this debt by adopting and raising Jah as one of his own.

Jah was trained personally by the Potentate in the art of stealth and bowmanship. The Potentate's second wife, on the other hand, taught Jah all she knew about herbal medicines and poisons. She was a gifted medicine-woman, and one of the most respected apothecaries in the clan. As such, Jah became well-versed in both of these subjects, and particularly excelled at camouflage, bowmanship and poisons. At the age of 16, he was inducted into manhood as a warrior, and he was sent into the forest with his wolf pack to aid in the destruction of an invading rival clan.

Jah rose quickly through the ranks of warrior, and by the age of 20 he was known as one of the best bowman of the clan, rivaling the Potentate himself. He was appointed as one of the clan's Drai'skaldern, their "pack leaders", the highest honor a warrior could hope to achieve in his clan. Although he had immense respect for the traditions of the Drai'skal, Jah saw ways in which they could improve and modify their tactics. He had studied the ways of the wolf even more closely, and noticed the way that wolves would often whip their herds of prey into a frenzy of fear before they set upon them. Jah believed they could utilize this terror, and thus to transform the image of the clan. No longer would they be just bowmen in the trees, using poison and other cowardly tricks; Jah wanted to make his clan a legend, a legend of wraiths of death from the sky who rain poison and arrows upon their foes, and leave only enough survivors to tell the tale.

Upon the next enemy incursion into the Drai'skal forests, Jah asked for the blessing of the Potentate to issue new orders, which was granted. Instead of the use of deadly poisons, he ordered the use of paralytic and sickening poisons. Soon, the raiding party was encumbered with their own wounded. They were somewhat annoyed, but generally uncaring. When the party set up camp for the night, Jah waited with ten of his stealthiest, most cunning warriors. When night fell and the enemy slept, the men stole into the camp, rearranging weapons, hiding and stealing valuables, and creating other mischief. When the raiding party awoke, they were confused, and fear started to set in. That day, Jah had his warriors start to kill from the trees, but never finishing the wounded. They would pick off stragglers and those who strayed too far, only to drop their heads from the trees minutes, or hours later. They used an alkaloid poison that utilized a high concentration of tetanus, so that when struck warriors would eventually cramp up, fall to the ground, and die grinning in agony.

The effect was, to say the least, palpable. Raiders would jump at the slightest twig snapping, and spin around when a mourning dove was calling. They were afraid, deeply afraid. That night, when they set up camp, Jah and his men assassinated the jittery sentries and hung their bodies from trees in full view of the camp. The next day, the raiding party retreated from whence they came, being dogged the whole way by Jah and his men, who had suffered minimal casualties. Peace was negotiated a week later.

Jah'Kol was welcomed back a hero, and the Drai'skal began to practice an entirely new type of warfare - psychological. Fear was now their greatest weapon. The clan has repelled hundreds of enemy incursions in similar ways since that incident, and although the fort itself has been assaulted on several occasions, its walls have never been breached.

Weapon Style: Like most of his clan, Jah'Kol prefers to use his composite bow in battle. He is a deadly marksman with it, at both longer and short distances. He often coats his arrows with a light layer of a paralytic extract, so that even wounding an enemy makes them unable to fight back. He is proficient with his daggers as well, although he prefers to use them against more unaware targets, rather than get into knife fights.

The Drai'skal

Clan name: The Drai'skal

Clan Location: A small fortress deep in the heart of the Western forests.

Clan Potentate/Doyenne: Süfkin Drai

Clan Status: Lesser; their fighting style is ill-equipped for conquest, thus they are basically forced to defend themselves constantly from outside aggression. However, this art has been virtually perfected.

Clan Weapon Style: Daggers and bow/arrows. A variety of poisons, most of which are deadly, but some that are simply paralytics or sickening.

Religious Beliefs: They worship a benevolent version of Father Lupus. They are predators of the night, and study the way of the wolf intently. If you can see one Drai'skal warrior, you can bet there are two or three others hidden nearby, watching. They value agility and cunning over strength and brute force.

Clan Speciality: They are expert apothecaries. Not only can they craft the deadliest of potions, they can also brew remedies for the most grievous of diseases and wounds. The first lessons that any Drai'skal child learns are his herbs; taught to differentiate between nightshade and ivy, which parts of a dandelion can heal, and which can be ground into an odorless, paralytic dust.

Clan Info: The Drai'skal are masters of psychological and stealth warfare. Although they can defend their fort when need be, they prefer to fight in the forest, picking off warriors one by one with their arrows, covering brambles in deadly poison and dropping them onto large groups of soldiers, who curse and jibe and laugh, and die in agony later that night. Due to this underhanded way of fighting, they have earned a reputation as dishonorable and cowardly. Many think that they are weak, but few of those have actually attempted to attack their woodland fortress.

The Drai'skal are almost constantly under attack due to their reputation as weak. This has actually worked conversely and made them formidable foes, especially on their own turf. For example, they will wait, camouflaged in the trees in their brown and green cloaks, composite bows at the ready. A raiding party will pass through, one hundred men strong, and the small pack of Drai'skal will begin picking them off, one by one. They have precision aim, and are told to always aim for the neck, a chink in the armor of most warriors. Plus, it is hard to call for help with an arrow in your throat. This small pack will follow closely behind the party, and as the raiders pass by the hiding places of yet more Drai'skal, they soon find themselves surrounded and with half the men that they entered the forest with.

Although they may be savage opponents, the Drai'skal are not very well equipped for expansionist campaigns. The few times that they have attempted to attack other forts have ended in disaster, simply because they rely so heavily upon their element. However, their skills are more than suited for defensive purposes, and they are renown for their healers and medicine men, due to their deep knowledge of plants and herbs.

The Drai'skal, when under threat or at war, are split into squads, or "wolf packs", of four to six men each. The leader of these men is usually the most agile or cunning warrior among them. They recently allied with the Benaisse, and have trained some of their scouts and warriors in the more practical aspects of Drai'skal tactics.

[Guest]

Character Sheet

Username: Elric Vhaan
Character Name: Istvaan Thrace
Gender: Male
Age: 26
Appearance: Thrace is six feet tall and leanly muscular. He has long blond hair with two dreadlock braids to tie the rest back. His face is rough hewn and is average looking. He has pale green eyes and keeps a short beard. He has several minor scars covering his arms and legs but none on his face as of yet. Thick callused hands and scarred knuckles show a large amount of hard work and bare knuckle trauma. His feet are similarly deformed.

Thrace wears thick leather armor made from the hide of a polar bear. The heavy skull and paws are both used for armor and terror. His clan bears some of the only metal armor available in the form of bronze bracers and greaves, but he has not yet earned the right to wear a set. Only the heads of the five families, the clan champion and the clan leader are allowed to wear a set. The clan champion and leader are also crafted a set of gauntlets upon their raising. Instead as a hopeful candidate, he wears a leather imitation studded with the broken weapons of worthy enemies, be they the teeth of great beasts, or the blades of his human enemies. He wears two of the ceremonial weapons of his family, the chain and ball, and throwing daggers. He is main weapons are two twin iron blades with triangular hooked gutting tips and a serrated back half that he made himself.

Personality: Thrace is sarcastic brooding bastard with little regard for any human life, including his own. Instead, he values honor and ones ability to produce effective results. As a result he is absolutely ruthless, using the most efficient means of annihilating his foes. He has charming if dark wit and a magnetic personality. In battle, he is in ecstasy reveling in the blood and spirit of his foes. A good challenge is what drives him.

Weapon Style: Thrace wields his twin swords in an pure offensive manner, believing any defense without a counter attack is useless. He is mostly self-taught, but derives his style off one of the two of the clan's main styles of using great swords. Thrace is also studying the clan's unarmed style in order to become the clan leader or champion. He has familiarity but only basic proficiency in the chain and ball and the throwing daggers used to capture or kill renegade slaves who do not deserve the purity of battle only broken bones and blood letting.

Clan Name: Starveros
Clan Location: Far to the north east at the seat of a short stretch of towering mountains and a great salt lake.
Clan Potentate/Doyenne: Karl Vercke. Karl Vercke is one of the most deadly warriors in the land.

Clan Status: High
Clan Weapon Style: The clan has two main styles of fighting, one for war and one for ceremonial battle. The ceremonial battle revolves around relentless and savage unarmed combat for rank and prestige. The war style revolves around the use of two hand blades. Each of the five families has its own private fighting style to deal with subjugated slaves in their duties of maintaining order. Each family head is expected to have a different self created style superior to the traditional style. The Clan head is the most dangerous of the self created styles and unarmed ability, while the clan champion is a master of the traditional clan style.
Religious Beliefs: Rather than worship either of the creator gods, the Starveros worship war itself. As humans were made through combat, so shall pay homage to two gods by their act of creation, with blood and broken bones of their enemies and themselves. One deeply held belief is that no true weapon should be drawn without letting blood, and the act of dieing without drawing blood is the greatest sacrilege to the gods. Thus, every time a blade is drawn a Staveros warrior cuts his own foream or leg with the blade, each scar marking a battle, while the first scar is drawn across the chest of all infants at birth. The bracers and greaves are used for covering up the cuts from infection and other diseases.

Clan Speciality: The mountain range that house the five forts and one keep of the Staveros are rich in ore. The clan specialty is based on the mining and forging of metal. Each of the five houses also have a specialty of forging.
Clan Info: The Staveros were originally an alliance of five smaller clans who united to assault the high keep of a higher clan. The war spanned generations, and the five clans built small forts to each of the assailable paths to the keep and eventually formed into one clan over the broken bodies of the annihilated high clan. The intermarried over the long years and now the cousins compete to increase their power and prestige in a never ending game of one upping each other.

Staveros has now owned the range so long that they are called the Iron Glacier, immovable and invincible as a force of nature. However, due to the distance from the center of the clans and the relatively small nature of the high clan, they have never been a priority in any conflict for the name of a Great Clan, despite enslaving the local lesser Clans around them and exporting large amounts of weaponry.

[Shadow Moonseye]

....

[The Melancholy Spirit]

......

[Guest]

Working on my sheet now. Should be up later today

[Chainlinc3]

Plague was talking like he was going to close this soon... Here's hoping it's still open!

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Username: Chainlinc3

Character Name: Varianne Astarin (or Vari if you really must)

Gender: Female

Age: 26

Appearance:
REFERENCE Picture (It's only a rough idea, be sure to take into account the notes below as you build your mental image. Physically, it's correct. Clothing-wise, I have some corrections.)
I SUCK at describing clothing, so, seeing as I couldn't find a picture with the clothing I have in mind, I picked one with the same basic form.
Two problems with the picture--
1. There's metal armor. Ignore it, I couldn't find a better picture and was getting sick of digging through piles of elf chick pseudo-porn in search of legitimate fantasy artwork. Speaking of that, anyone have tips on finding legitimate pictures? This seems to be a recurring problem for me.
2. The whip doesn't have barbs. Picture them as smallish (maybe an inch long and an inch wide), slightly rounded, upside-down Vs. Or right-side up ^s. Whatever floats your boat. >.>

Finally, picture that dress as a patchwork garment made from skins and furs-- fur coating the inside, rough leather on the outside. Same basic cut, but much less fancy. The leather is NOT dyed black to like the dress in the picture, but rather the brownish color of natural leather. I'll look for another pic when I stop being depressed by perverted nerds raping my childhood.

Personality:
Varianne is a peaceful person by nature, but has accepted the need for violence and the benefits of being efficient in its delivery. Cheerful despite the grim reality she lives in, it is easy for her to calm animals and, to a lesser extent, people if the need arises. She holds a deep reverence for the wild, and loves to spend as much time alone in it as she can. It is not uncommon for her to wander off to just sit and think, or sometimes sing-- she has a beautiful voice, but is ashamed whenever she catches someone listening to her.

History:
The daughter of an exiled warrior and a native Astarin woman, Varianne was born into and trained by the Nagastarin band, a band that uses trained animals in combat at the expense of some skill in direct combat. From a young age, she took more to the animal training portions of her studies than the combat portions-- her mother once found her playing with a wild wolf at the tender age of six years. She failed trial after trial with her weapon skill, but continued to blossom as an animal handler. When she was thirteen years of age, her father came down on her hard about her combat skills, forcing her into an extreme training regimen until she became a competent warrior in her own right.

When she was 21, Varianne captured a wolf pup, and named it Vesper. Vesper is a snow white female, fast and agile. Vesper has been a loyal companion to her in the intervening years.

She never discovered what Clan her father had come from before he joined the Astarin-- it took her a long time to even find out why he didn't use a whip like the other Astarin, and he always ignored her when she asked about his past. She is currently on her Syvir (see Clan Info, it's a coming of age ritual consisting of a year abroad), staying at the Benaisse Keep.
(I'll probably extend this later, but I'm drawing a blank on what else she could have gotten up to.)

Weapon Style:
Barbed Whip. It has very strong advantages and disadvantages, making is a situational weapon, but she uses it anyway. Her poison is fairly mild by Astarin standards, causing blurred vision and disorientation if enough works it's way into an enemy. She was originally trained with the "normal" variant, but is working to retrain with the dagger-ended variant. I don't want to explain everything about it again, so just look down at the Clan Weapon Style, ok? Ok. ^_^

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Clan name: Astarin

Clan Location: Their history has caused them to shun the static fortresses of other clans, living life in eleven nomadic bands. The bands are currently scattered across Kiuas, and only congregate in one area when a Hearing is called (see Clan Info).

Clan Potentate: Whespit Astarin, one of the eldest living Astarin. He is frail now with age and illness, but has suffered many grievous injuries in his life, causing his name to become almost synonymous with toughness in Astarin culture. He doesn't like to be seen now, preferring to be remembered as he was in youth.

Clan Status: Lesser

Clan Weapon Style: Barbed whips-- Their nomadic lifestyle makes it difficult for them to acquire enough metal to make traditional weapons, but they have found that whips of plant fiber and animal hair can be woven with poisoned metal barbs within them, rendering them rather effective against lightly armored or unarmored targets. Typically used to rip and tear, the barbs are not always lethal, and so most warriors carry a simple stone blade to finish enemies they have incapacitated. Their fighting style is very fast and fluid, based on conservation of motion and energy with an emphasis on evading enemy strikes instead of simply dodging them.

The weapons have numerous obvious drawbacks-- namely, they are high maintenance, requiring repairs after almost every fight, and even full on replacements every month or so. As such, clan members are trained in the creation of whips alongside their regular combat training. Furthermore, the weapons are almost useless against heavily armored targets. Their only recourse is to whip until their whips find purchase on the enemy armor, then tear off the armor bit by bit. However, if the armor is well made, it simply won't tear off-- it's attachments are stronger than the whips. Their only option then is to attempt to disarm their opponent and turn their weapon against them. Their only reprieve is that mining for metal in the permafrosted earth is a painstakingly difficult process, meaning that heavily armored foes are few and far between.

A few Astarin have been known to attach a small dagger to the end of their whip-- this sacrifices whip maneuverability for slightly better armor penetration, but the shift from a whip without a dagger to one with a dagger (or vice-versa) typically requires the warrior to train in the use of their weapon all over again. This training barrier, as well as the scarcity of metal, means that most Astarin don't employ this variant. After they have learned both variants, they can switch between them with relative ease, but still require several hours of practice to get used to the different weight distribution.

Religious Beliefs: The Astarin are fervently religious, believing both in Mother Ursa and Father Lupus, but eschewing the traditional violent tale of creation in favor of a more benevolent image of their gods. They believe that both Mother Ursa and Father Lupus willingly donated their flesh and blood, tooth and nail, fur and hair to create the world. They see each of the deities as largely benevolent, and make regular offerings in the form of the waste from their lifestyle. They take what they need, and will go to great length to scatter anything that will rot and build piles of that which will not-- symbolically recreating the world and returning the raw force of creation that they have taken back to the earth, so that they may harvest it again later.

Clan Speciality: Due to their nomadic lifestyle, the Astarin have been unable to partake in the luxuries of persistent structures. Metal is very rare, and fire is absolutely vital to their survival. As such, they have made two key discoveries-- first, they have found that the sap of one specific type of tree burns very slowly and dimly, but releases much heat while being practically smokeless. They typically coat their torches in it's sap. Secondly, they have discovered techniques to forge abnormally strong and light metal objects-- they rarely have metal, and so they learned to make the absolute most of what they have.

The handful of Astarin-forged blades in existence tend to be marginally lighter than other blades, as well as a fair degree more resilient. Nothing dramatic, but enough of a difference that warriors occasionally will bring metal to the Astarin to have it forged into a blade. The Astarin have a nasty habit of "borrowing" bits of the metal provided, and so only those warriors who have more metal than they deem necessary tend to employ their services.

Some other specialties (like animal training, better poisons, etc) are specific to each band of Astarin (see Clan Info) because they have not yet been embraced by the Clan as a whole.

Clan Info: The Astarin tend to be frowned on in Clan society-- they shun the fortresses that are the very foundation of the Clan "civilization," and tend to fight with speed and guile instead of strength and honor. They fiercely hold onto their nomadic traditions, however, believing it to have been decreed by Mother Ursa and Father Lupus long ago. They believe that most Clans hole up in their fortresses, ignoring the fierce beauty of the wilderness. They see themselves as caretakers of the wilds, returning that which has been taken and bringing nature back to it's full glory. They take no issue with the other Clans, so long as they do not aggressively attack the wildlands. For example, if a Clan built a fortress in flat plains, they would be fine. Even if they built said fort in the woods, they would be okay with it, so long as they built the fortress around the woods instead of changing to woods to suite the fortress. It's when others try to impose their will on the wilds, (or are exceedingly destructive/wasteful) that they get upset.

Their nomadic lifestyle causes them to have a rather low life expectancy-- the hostile wilds take a heavy toll on them, one they cannot avoid paying. As a result of this, mating is… encouraged, in order to keep their population stable. Coupling between people who have no intention of being more than friends is not uncommon within their culture.

When a fort angers the Astarin sufficiently, they prove themselves to be proficient in siege-- they never have to go near the fortress as they starve them slowly. The loot supply shipments, and attack anyone sent outside to gather resources. Hunters and gatherers have to chose-- be burdened to the point of immovability by armor AND resources, or be torn to shreds by the whips of the Astarin. Hunters especially have difficulties-- chasing down animals is almost impossible in heavy armor. While they have difficulty actually taking a fortress, their tactics for siege typically force their enemies to be rather diplomatic if the Astarin make a prolonged enough siege. Larger forts, especially those with self-contained farms and other sustainable food sources, having nothing to fear obviously.

The Astarin Clan is close-knit, almost like a large family. They don't travel together, but rather in various bands. Each band is very, very close, whereas other bands are simply on good relations with each other-- extended family if you will. To attack one band, or even one member of a band is to incur the anger of the Clan as a whole. They generally stay out of other people's business and are thus left in peace normally, but when someone attacks them, they hold a grudge for a ludicrously long time.

They are very welcoming to the occasional exiled warrior from other clans, sheltering them so long as the warrior is willing to embrace their ways. As a result, they have an abnormally high number of alternative weapon styles within their culture, but most are limited to one or two practitioners.

Any significant action-- like declaring hostilities with another Clan, or moving to siege a fort-- requires a Hearing to be held. Runners are sent to find each band, and inform them of the date and location of the Hearing. When all the bands have arrived (typically this takes a month or two, but if fast response is needed, the Hearing may commence pre-maturely), the band leader who called the Hearing states his/her issue, and then receives the opinion of each of the other leaders, after which the Clan Potentate delivers his verdict. If the Potentate has not yet arrived because the Hearing had to start early, the eldest leader makes the verdict, but it is held as tentative until approved by the Potentate.

There are eleven notable bands in existence, each with slight differences. Some use more lethal poisons on their barbs, others have better metal working, others prefer to train animals to fight for them. The primary band is the last one mentioned there-- the Nagastarin band. It is the largest, and it's leader is the Clan's Potentate, Whespit.

The Astarin are very fleet of foot in battle, and notorious for flanking maneuvers-- if you see them retreating, it's time to watch your rear.

They have a coming of age ritual known as the Syvir that is traditionally undertaken in the twenty-sixth year of a child's life. It marks the end of their training, and consists of a year living with another Clan. Many Clans aren't very open to visitors, or are downright hostile, but the Astarin are fairly peaceful and thus have a decent selection of Clans to chose from for their year abroad.

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I think I went a biiiiit overboard on the Astarin. >.>

[Guest]

Character Sheet

Username: Raptorman

Character Name: Rilkros 'san Jarashe 'san Sythil 'san Inhoruck 'san Ralras 'san Alzarah 'Tirilur savaral 'Tirilur beastural 'Tirilur wiseral

Gender: Male

Age: 27

Appearance: Rilkros is not a large individual by the standard of most of the clans as he stands only 5 foot 5 inches tall. His face is slightly rounded and his eyes are small and surrounded by folds of skin like all of the Krarkris. Like most of his clan his teeth are small and have been filed to needle like points to give a predatory appearance. His face is other than the natural folding and wrinkling of skin around the eyes completely bare of scars or adornment which is a sign of competence in his clan. His eyes are a very pale blue color and his skin like all members of his clan is very pale.

His armor like that of almost all members of his clan is made primarily from hardened leather. He wears a hardened leather cuirass as well as leather greaves, boots, gloves, and pieces of it that cover his upper and lower legs as well as upper and lower arms. Also attached to this leather is a layer of strips of bone that are used an additional layer of padding on the armor and also used to cause fear in those who see them. The helm he wears is made from the skull of one of the war dogs that had died. It is fashioned in such a way as to have his face seem to be emerging from its mouth.

His clothes that he wears when not wearing armor are different from the standard clothing of his clan as he is the son of and therefore a clan shaman in addition to a warrior. A thick hooded robe made from the pelts of the war dogs that have fallen in combat alongside his people. His hands are uncovered and he wears boots made from the fur of the dogs as well.

Personality: Rilkros is a fiery individual. He has little tolerance for slights or insults and he sometimes takes things that are not meant to be insulting as insults. Despite having anger that can flare up easily he is normally pleasant to be around and quick with jokes and laughter as long as they are not at his expense. He is a dedicated individual and when he says something will be done he does it. He has a particular dislike of being called short, which stems from his actually being large by his clan's standards. Despite being among the more educated and cultured of his clan he still likely seems rough and savage to the more advanced ones.

History: Rilkros is the child of one of the clan's shamans and the previous clan leader. However as his mother was not the mate of the clan leader he is not considered related to the previous leader. As such he was instructed in the rituals that the Krarkris use to appease and ask favors of the three gods they worship. He was also trained in the art of war as the Krarkis wage it. To be finished soon.

Weapon Style: Rilkros uses the standard Selfbow and double knives that the rest of his clan does. The Selfbow is used at range to deliver accurate and powerful arrows to targets at range. Should an enemy close to close range the twin long knives each a full foot in length and curved are employed in a frenzied flurry of blades to overwhelm an opponent. The fighting style also focuses heavily on his war dogs which charge an enemy keeping their focus away from Rilkros while he shoots at them.


Clan Template

Clan name: Krarkris

Clan Location: An expanse of gently rolling hills in the northern area of Kiaus. Even by the frigid standards of Kiaus the Krarkris territory is harsh and unsuited to those unprepared or unused to it. They have several fair sized forts that they move between as their herds exhaust the grazing in one part of their lands.

Clan Potentate/Doyenne: Sarash 'san Jarash 'san Orrulk 'san Rallick 'san Norruk 'san Pirillik 'Tirilur argraral 'Tirilur beastural 'Tirilur prereparadel 'Tirilur ferorr 'Tirilur lordrel 'Tirilur hearatos. Sarash is the son of the previous clan leader and a particularly ruthless warrior. Strong and well trained by his father he effortlessly took over the clan after his father's slightly unusual death in a hunting accident. He rules the clan with an iron but capable fist.

Clan Status: Lesser

Clan Weapon Style:The Krarkris use the Selfbow as their primary weapon, an accurate and lightweight weapon, easily carried over long distances. They are known for their accuracy. Selfbows are also easily replaced taking a day of work to make a new one. While they are not particularly skilled in close range fighting they also employ the use of two short swords each a full foot and a half in length and the other 9 inches in length. Both are wickedly curved and they can fight competently. It is the dogs however that are the most renown part of their fighting style. The massive war dogs serve to kill enemies and draw their attention away from the Krarkris archers.

Religious Beliefs: The Krarkris worship Father Lupus like many other clans, however they do not recognize the existence of mother ursa and instead worship another deity they call Brother Cane. They believe that in the beginning the clansmen were created by Father Lupus alone and then abandoned to their own fates upon the harsh landscape that is Kiaus. It was then that Brother Cane who is portrayed as a an even more massive example of the Krarkris war dogs, found them and in sympathy for the plight of the clansmen gave them a companion of his own flesh. A companion to stand my the clansmen in war, to guard and protect, and to ward off the death that came so often in those early days.

As a result the though the Krarkris recognize and worship Father Lupus they worship him primarily for his act of creating them accidentally and not with particular fervor. They reserve their actual zeal and rituals to honor the one who gave them their companion, the breed of dog they live alongside with.

Notable ritual customs of the Krarkris include the eating of the heart of fallen enemies. The Krarkris believe that to do such at thing gives great strength and adds your enemy's power to you. This is normally only done when a particularly tenacious or skilled enemy is brought down for there is no reason to add a weaker enemy to you. The Krarkris also unlike many clans have designated Shaman's whose task it is to perform such rituals as the eating of the heart. They are also warriors and simply where also given greater instruction in how to follow the ways of Brother Cane.

Clan Speciality: The Krarkris are renown for their animal breeding skill that produced for them their savage and deadly war dogs. Their dogs are argueably amongest the deadliest war dogs in the Clan lands. They also demonstrated it in the domestication of sheep.

The Krarkris war dogs are massive and most closely resemble the Caucasian Mountain dog. They are heavily built and weigh between 110–200 pounds and stand between 28 and 33 inches tall. They have large heads and jaws and are thickly covered in warm fur to allow them to withstand the harshest weather. For an idea of what one looks like check the spoiler.

Spoiler:

Clan Info: The names of one of the Krarkris who is male are his own name, his father's name, his father's father's name, up to his great great grandfather's name. If a child is not between two Krarkris who are mated to each other then while the second name remains the father's the names after than come from the male lineage of the mother. Names that are preceded by 'Tirilur are titular names that relate to the position and accomplishments of the particular individual.

To be finished later, can't think anymore right now.

[Guilty Carrion]

Username: Plaguewalker

Character Name: Anasha

Gender: Female

Age: 31

Appearance: At 5’11, Anasha is surprisingly easy to miss for her size. Her auburn hair is cropped close to her skull, and she regularly trims it to keep it that way. Her eyes are a sickly pale green, and they seem to always stare through whomever they set upon, barely a hint of recognition flickering through her gaze. Her body is thickly muscled, and well defined from a lifetime of constant training and conflict. Thin scars run down her cheeks, and flow across the entirety of her body, marking Anasha as a survivor of the Trial, although these scars are often covered by her clothing.

Anasha has a worn down brown hooded cloak almost permanently affixed to her shoulders, obscuring her face from view. She wears a simple brown linen tunic that reaches roughly the middle of her thighs, although the lower parts are often covered by a pair of wool pants. Leather boots protect her feet from the cold. Around her waist is a sash made of a black bear pelt, and she is never seen without it on her, or in hand. She wears minimal armour, consisting of a pair of leather greaves and a leather breastplate, which are worn down and have seen better days.

Personality: There’s quiet, and then there’s Anasha. Rumoured to have once been outspoken, and passionate, Anasha isn’t even a shadow of those old times. She’s more of a ghost. Her voice is seldom heard, and the dying embers of her past self are painfully evident when she does speak. Closed off to the world around her, Anasha barely seems to register anyone who talks to her, and her pariah status keeps anyone from really getting close to her.

History: Anasha’s history is virtually unknown, a closely guarded secret of her clan that no outsiders are truly privy to. She is the blood sister of Jovan, although despite her being older, Jovan is the leader of the two siblings, and commands Anasha as if she were a simple grunt. She seems generally despised by those of the Benaisse clan, and yet they seem to tolerate her presence, at least in small doses.

Weapon Style: Twin Axe



Character Name: Jovan Benaisse

Gender: Male

Age: 29

Appearance: Jovan stands at 6’2, being broad-shouldered and heavily muscled from a life time of unending combat. His eyes are light hazel, although they are far from warm when one finds themselves staring them down. A thick, wild auburn beard wraps around his jaw line, reaching just above his collar bone. His head is clean shaven, and he regularly cuts it to ensure it stays that way. He is missing his top right canine tooth, although it doesn’t impair his speech at all.

He wears a thick black tunic, which reaches just past his waist, with a studded leather vest over top of it. Thick leather pants cover his legs, and pair of leather boots protects his feet. Being the heir of the Benaisse clan, Jovan has metal armour unlike most clansmen. He wears a steel lamellar cuirass, with a set of steel strip vambraces, and steel strip leg guards. He dons a Norse-style helmet.

Personality: Jovan has a commanding air about him, and he carries himself with confidence and pride. No matter the relationship, be it commander to soldier, friends, or even family, Jovan rarely hesitates to criticise or offer his thoughts on things, and more often than not, he orders his ‘advice’ followed. One’s loyalty means everything to Jovan, and if anyone does anything to damage his view of them, it will be an uphill battle just to regain their footing in his eyes.

History: Jovan is the second child of Eilif and Tórfa Benaisse, and currently stands to succeed his mother as leader of the clan. He grew up in the shadow of his sister, Anasha, and once the two were rather close. After the events at the siege of Ka’urderen ten years ago, and the death of their father, the two fractured apart, with Jovan treating his sister as little more than a weapon for him to use. As heir of the clan, Jovan is equipped with metal armour, and a full metal shield, and has even received a war dog from a tribute sent to the Benaisse.

Weapon Style: Axe and Shield

Alrighty folks. I've sent off my PMs with my required edits, and I believe I've spoken with most of you about how to have your character at the Benaisse Keep when I need them. If I haven't spoken with you, PM me, and we'll get it squared away ASAP.

As for starting, we'll be kicking off here soon, but as I work, and need to post in one or two other RPs before I set my sights on this, it might not be till later this weekend. Thank you all for your patience and I look forward to rolling this bad boy out!

[Guilty Carrion]

I apologize for lack of motion, work has been stressful, with me possibly losing my vacation time, and to top it off, one of my grandmother's passed away on monday, so life is a little hectic right now. I will work on a opening, but I can't give a timeline. I'm sorry for the delay, and I'll get this running as soon as I can.

Thanks.

-Plaguewalker

[Guest]

Any guesses on ETA?

[Guilty Carrion]

sorry about the delay. Life is fickle. I'm working on the IC as I type.

[Guilty Carrion]

Hhooookaay. Long overdue, but yes, it's finally up, the IC!

Now, mostly for story purposes, I'm not actually starting us at the keep, but about a week's journey from it. I've given Jovan's thoughts on each of your characters, hopefully that's enough for you to flesh out how you think their recruitment would go. Just keep in mind, Jovan is of a great clan, so he won't be begging or any of that stuff for you to come. With the Lesser's it's more or less an order hidden under the guise of a offer.

Please, feel free to PM each other(or speak in here) for possible interactions your characters might have had on the road, or conversations they might be having around the fire. I'm going to say about two rounds of posts, and then I'll move us to the next day, and to the first proper step on our bloody bloody trail in the life of a clansmen.

And once again, thanks for your Patience. Things can get out of hand quickly, and hold it up, but here`s hoping to a long life for this!

Don't feel rushed by the way. I'm perfectly fine with it being slower, if that works best for you.

-Plaguewalker

[Chainlinc3]

IT'S ALIIIIIIIIIVE!

I'll probably get a post up sometime tonight. Barring, that is, famine, disease, and world-spite.

Edit: Don't interpret that as a post reservation. I tend to be behind schedule on these sort of things, so... yeah.

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