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Character Introductions.. Biographies.. Whatever you want to call them!

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Amargaard

Amargaard

Amargaard

Level 19
Joined
Jun 29, 2009
Messages
6,760
It was more like my limited English that prevented me from understanding your sentence, but after reading it through just now, it strangely makes perfect sense suddenly - except that "mfw"? And what makes you think I took the right of helping people from you? o_O
 

AIagremm

AIagremm

AIagremm

Level 23
Joined
Nov 17, 2008
Messages
17,315
mqdefault.jpg
 

FinalvsFire

FinalvsFire

FinalvsFire

Level 2
Joined
Feb 9, 2014
Messages
11
... I'd be willing to do some RPing if I have the time... I could start right now if y'all want. Maybe make the group less dead. Sorry, kind of just joined... I've been roaming this site for a while as a guest, but I made an account because I wanted to get apart of the "action".
 

FinalvsFire

FinalvsFire

FinalvsFire

Level 2
Joined
Feb 9, 2014
Messages
11
Alright guys. Well, this is the beginning of a story I started a while back ago. I'll need to know if I could fit in somehow...

The Heist
Part 1: The Peoples
It wasn’t with any exasperation that the man uncovered the sheets, though a sigh escaped easily through his lips. He was only remotely aware of his nakedness, of course, and that would not have bothered him regardless of whether or not he had put any conscious effort into caring. Another night with another woman was all it was. Yes, she was good. Better than many of the others he had met. Still, in the end it hardly mattered to Gerrik. He put his plain clothes back on, strapped his sword onto his hip, and only slightly glanced at the naked form of the serving girl of whom he had met last night. It was simply business.
Business? Was that the word? That too hardly mattered. The small details did not matter. So, it was for no apparent reason that Gerrik sighed. He had no reason to. Not any good ones, that was. The country adored Gerrik and the army that evidently placed so much of their time into protecting the people who could not efficiently protect themselves.
So, in conclusion, Gerrik hardly cared. Commander of the entire army of Denpurk, Gerrik could get whatever he wished rather easily. The sigh might have been a sign of physical exhaustion, but Gerrik was trained for much more than simply sex. And he had been through much more. Without so much as a sigh.
Walking through the bustling streets, people cheered as he passed. People moved out of his way as if he were the High King himself. Gerrik chuckled aloud at that thought, I think. And not a one questioned the sick elitism that so obviously resounded in it.


And while Gerrik was celebrated, the Poor Man was not. Poor Man was dangerous, and people, knowing that, did not disturb him.
Poor Man was his nickname, of course. Hardly a deserved title, I think. All he did was scramble around, hoping that he would not be noticed- not truly poor, he had money. And when the time came, when the soldiers found the man, they were unexpectedly unable to go back to their posts. Or resume any of the other menial tasks that filled that life.
So it was with resignation that I would think the Poor Man did not kill Gerrik while he had any chance. While the Poor Man could kill one highly-skilled, always alert man by surprise, the hoard of rioting civilians probably was what stayed his hand. Or maybe it was because he was insane. It was difficult to discern the man’s thoughts as I watched the man- very. At points I would think that I knew what his next action would be, but in the end, I would be completely and senselessly wrong.
I didn’t know for certain that the Poor Man was in the crowd, but I had that feeling. After spending months watching these two people for the job, I had come to expect such things. The best chance it seemed to understand Krothir’s (that was the Poor Man’s name) thoughts were to follow instinctual feelings. Whatever came off the top of your head was mostly it. Not that it was very accurate, again really, so I suppose that he could not have known that Gerrik was walking so openly among the people. That really bothered me, just watching him made me want to punch him in the jaw. How could Krothir not be here?
Bah, it hardly was important.
I was dimly aware of someone behind before I felt the familiar tap on the back. I turned to see Krothir. So he was here! Another minor mystery solved. Krothir’s voice was thick with dry air as he spoke, “Fool.”
I turned around, only slightly sure of what Krothir meant by the statement. “Yes, because I know everything there is to know about staying hidden, like you.”
Confusion dotted Krothir’s face. “I mean the food. You left it out last night in the barn. The rats got in it.”
Of course. “Of course,” I replied, still not entirely sure of Krothir’s intentions.
*sigh. Such is the way of life, it seems. It is all one giant mystery, Krothir my favorite among them.
“Come,” Krothir said. “We must be swift.”
Again, I was not sure what he meant. It seemed as if Krothir spoke as if he thought you could read his mind. This was entirely untrue, no matter how much I wished it. I take that back. I don’t want to know what Krothir thinks.
I followed Krothir on top of a building, a difficult climb for me, nearly effortless for the Poor Man. Struggling to the top, I watched as Krothir came to the edge of the other side, overlooking something. Finally, I walked up to him, dazed and so obviously oblivious to this man I nearly trusted intentions. He turned to me, and we stood for an uncomfortably long period of time. Krothir gazed into my eyes as if looking for something. For all I knew, he was.
I marveled at the assortment of scars that decorated his face. His slender form would not have made you expect such a stern face. Then, I looked into the man’s dark blue eyes, and found myself lost for a second. Suddenly I didn’t see insanity. I saw pain and hopelessness. He was willing to do anything for something.
This all occurred over 10, 15 seconds, and I was actually surprised when he spoke, “I can trust you. What is your name, Watcher?”
I was impressed by the fact that he already knew that I was a Watcher, the people who looked upon people with formidable reputations to prove them correct. So far, the man who hired me probably would have been more than impressed. “Malcolm,” I replied rather quickly. “Malcolm Greyswallow of the Northern People. I serve people far above myself, and possessing of resources far above your own. My hirer stated that this would be an interesting case. I am not disappointed.”
I had met Krothir a week ago, and this was the first time he actually took note of my name. I had told him plenty of times already, but the Poor Man took it in this time. He nodded, seeming satisfied. “Well, Malcolm. You wish to learn of the troubles of this land? I tell you now, and I hope not to disappoint-“he gave a sigh, and turned away. “I have little to do with the corruption of this land. The slave trade, though long has not been my problem, flourishes here. Gerrik and his men hound the streets ruthlessly. I’d estimate 500 dead a day. And 750 born. This is one city. I am so far away from home. I am so far away from all good.”
It took me a while to do the calculations in the head. I had never received a great education, and suffice it to say, math was not my strong-suit. I was a writer, a story-teller by heart. If the country added 250 people to its citizenry each day, Krothir’s numerous half-sentence stories were truly terrifying. Finally, having come up with my answer, I looked to Krothir and said “This country should be nothing more than a pile of dust. There are too many people, too many slaves for the size of this country. You can’t walk a mile and not expect to find someone.”
“That is the thing. The majority of the country is underground, and few know it. It’s one reason there are slaves. They dig and dig to obtain more space. Homes underground used to be a luxury. Now they are the very cells that prevent any hope from giving this nation a sliver of goodness.”
Krothir continued on, explaining each street, expecting me to listen as I would have. Krothir was a genius that way. Though he was incredibly difficult to understand, he knew everyone as well as if they were his parents.
But as always, something caught me off guard. It may have been nothing, or it may have been a sign that I had gotten myself into incredibly dangerous business. Atop the Poor Man’s back lied two gladiuses in worn leather sheathes. Either he was ready for trouble, or ready to start it.
I was still in my thoughts when Krothir turned looking for some kind of approval. I nodded, and Krothir turned, looking off the edge of the building. It was a mere 15 foot drop at the most. I walked towards him and looked down also. There was an entire legion of soldiers under Gerrik’s command.
I described Gerrik earlier: an elitist, powerful, skilled, and perverted man. He bedded women every night as if they were toys. And he was incredibly dangerous. Alone, not even close to the Poor Man. But with his army and political power, he could topple other nations without so much as “small defeat”. Though he had the personality of an ass, he was a genius.
It was very different for Krothir. While Krothir was mysterious, brooding, and, at times, very nice, Krothir was not nearly as academically intelligent. It was obvious to me that Krothir had been through his own version of hell many times over. At times, he was quite insane. But beneath that, Krothir was wise and all-knowing. He was clever and understanding. And deadly.
I’d seen how the Poor Man’s brash seeming actions ended as perfect, flawless actions that granted his enemy no chance for whatever victory could be achieved in the situation. Almost as if Krothir knew how others would react.
Now, I knew that Krothir was talented with his blades. He was fast as lightning, and strong as a bull. But I knew Krothir wouldn’t be able to bring down an entire legion. Not with Gerrik among them.
And yet, Krothir looked down as if the only intention he ever had was to jump down and slaughter as many as he could. So when he did, landing on one soldier and rolling away, all the while removing a gladius from the dead man, I was emotionally surprised. But the logical side of me expected it. Knew it was going to happen to such a degree that I almost had wanted it.
I was of no use to Krothir (I had come to know him as somewhat of a friend over the week), and though I supported him, I could not fight well. I watched, fully expecting Krothir’s killing expertise.
Six were down in a matter of seconds, killed with such quick precision and continued motion, that you would have expected it to continue on and on until all were dead. But such was not the way of real life. The element of surprise slowly faded away. The sheer numbers, and the defensive training had Krothir surrounded. And simply, once it was certain that Krothir could do nothing else, the gladiator weapons were put away, and the Poor Man turned himself in.
I watched as he was bound by rope, his swords cast aside, and he was shoved forward towards the prison.
In the commotion, I had sneaked down and picked up Krothir’s weapons, knowing that this had to be part of his strategy as everything was. Two days passed, I waited. I sat waiting until the day of his trial. I had brought plenty of food with me for the travel and the obvious amount of time I would have to spend in this desert that was Denpurk.
It really was a desert. The city bordered a river that to this day has not been named, and that was the only source of water in the sandy place.
Denpurk was approximately a fourth of the entire country. The founders of Denpurk lacked creativity, and named the capital after the country itself, which could get confusing. So in other words, the city was gigantic, and was rightfully named the mass of the country. The other three fourths of the country was just vast spaces of huge farms and plantations that grew many things, including the infamous Yulkoj Bean, which, though not truly a bean, was a powerful drug that caused hallucination and enhanced beautification of the opposite sex, which more than likely explained the amount of people born in each day.
So finally, I was allowed in to see the trial of the Poor Man, Krothir.
Unfortunately, I was in no way surprised.

I suppose my character would be Krothir... A former soldier, Krothir's men (as he was the captain in a small fiefdom that no longer exists) were in attacked in the middle of the night. Sold into slavery (in Denpurk), Krothir was a gladiator for 13 years until finally, an opportunity arose and he managed to escape with a handful of his friends. Most of which died during this. Fleeing into the city with Adrina, a dark-skinned hunter-warrior of whom he had trusted with his life, Krothir made out a small living as a mercenary in the richer sections of the great city named as the country. It wasn't until a year later that he was forced out of this job, back into hiding, when General Gerrik was promoted and strict, cruel security was set in place. During these events, Krothir's last friend dies. He continues living however, forced into petty crime in order to maintain any semblance of money.

Krothir has pitch black hair, long from the lack of cutting it over the years, and a crudely shaved beard of the same color. He can be described as being insane through his incredibly reckless actions and the like. However, Krothir, though perhaps insane, is a calm, passionate man. As would not be expected, Krothir keeps rage in check rather easily, and comes across as even more of an ominous figure through this.

Denpurk is a heavily overpopulated country, spanning from a vast jungle of no name (it was never fully explored by Denpurk, due to the lack of people who actually cared about anything other than themselves), and the vast desert in which the majority of Denpurk is. The slave trade booms here, and gladiators fighting in coliseums is rather common. Most die here, as gladiators are often forced to fight beasts that are incredibly powerful. Women posses almost no respect in the country, as do people of different cultures.

One would ask as to why Krothir remains in this vile place, and it is simple. He is driven by something in which he refuses to call revenge. He simply wishes to kill Gerrik, as he had executed Krothir's friend. Krothir's home has long since been conquered by the powerful Denpurk, and he holds no hope that anyone he knew remains living.

I saw earlier that you did not want our character's to be like us, and I completely understand that. Don't worry, I'm not like Krothir.

Please tell me if you want to use my idea for anything. Not that I am confident with it.
 

Paillan

Paillan

Paillan

Level 19
Joined
Jan 22, 2011
Messages
3,968
First: Bern is going to KILL you. Ohh boy this is gonna be guuud... *Get's popcorn*
Second: This is not the RP thread, you only create characters here
Third: Normally, the group maintainer starts the RP. So yeah, bern is going to kill you *get's some 3D glasses*
So I readed all that wall of text (YES) and it seems you didn't saw the OP... or the map... or anything. There is a desert actually but that doesn't matter, read the OP, a friking meteor will fall, why has this to do with your story? Nothing xD. As a side story of a country, seems nice.
 

Amargaard

Amargaard

Amargaard

Level 19
Joined
Jun 29, 2009
Messages
6,760
First: Bern is NOT gonna kill him. For what reason would she do that? *takes popcorn from Paillan*
Second: He was not roleplaying, he was simply asking if he could fit this into the story when the roleplay starts.
Third: Again, he is not starting the RP - and Bern is rather gonna love him. That post looks very good actually *takes 3D glasses from Paillan too*

Anyways, welcome stranger. I didn't read all of your post, because I simply don't have time this morning, but the beginning looks very promising! I'm sure you can fit it in somehow, but I can't really help you with finding out how exactly yet. But I'd be glad to help you out later on :)
 

Bernkastel

Bernkastel

Bernkastel

Level 18
Joined
Mar 21, 2008
Messages
6,417
I'll read that later when I get back home again. I'll not really respond to anything in this post. What I want to tell is that on Wednesday I got to know that off to officer school I go, so I'll get out before next Christmas. I'll try to get everything done during these weekendsto a shape that this'll work without my active participation.
 

FinalvsFire

FinalvsFire

FinalvsFire

Level 2
Joined
Feb 9, 2014
Messages
11
... Yeah... Sorry, Paillan, I wasn't trying to roleplay or anything. This was a section of a story( That I wrote) that I grew bored with on the character. I did read the OP, and I was just wondering if I could fit the country and character into the world. I saw earlier that someone had put an entire elven forest, etc. into the world. If a country is too big, I can manage with something else.
 

FinalvsFire

FinalvsFire

FinalvsFire

Level 2
Joined
Feb 9, 2014
Messages
11
Alright. Well, since you all seem to be good artists, I'm going to have to say that I've got no artistic ability what-so-ever when it comes to drawing. I can write, paint with words if you know what I mean. But I'm no good at drawing my character and I'm not exactly one for having a character look like someone else's. Imagine my character as you like. Paillan, are you asking me to continue this story? I hope you won't be offended when I say that that will probably not happen. I'm working on another project right now, and I'm only about half-way done with that as well. On top of all that, I got school, so I can't spend every bit of my time working on this stuff. If you want this story to continue, I suppose I could continue it through the rp. Do with Denpurk as you like. I saw your guys' map of the world, and I should ask if this world is as big as Earth, bigger, or smaller? If it's anywhere near the size of Earth, I would expect it to have plenty of leftover space for Denpurk, though perhaps it is across an ocean and/or in another continent.
 

FinalvsFire

FinalvsFire

FinalvsFire

Level 2
Joined
Feb 9, 2014
Messages
11
Hey, Amargaard, just looked back at some of your previous characters. Just wanted you to know that I had not realized that one of your characters had gladiator, or next to gladiator origins. Sorry for my endlessly long, spam posts, my OCD keeps getting in the way.
 

FinalvsFire

FinalvsFire

FinalvsFire

Level 2
Joined
Feb 9, 2014
Messages
11
Paillan. I think that your character may be a bit over-powered... But an rp isn't just about combat I'd hope, so I don't mind, but others might.
 
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