Shattered Honour: Signup Thread and Intro

[Parrhesia]

Valencia's accepted. With a two-handed axe. And the skill Shieldbreaker.

Chrysanthum is accepted or something I don't know stop confusing me at 7am

Delves of Rythanh is accepted with a skill I ... also haven't thought of yet, sue me. But you may want to reconsider that 0 strength, rogues don't get crossbows to be ... entirely reliant upon.

Edited December 18, 2011 by Furetchen

[CT075]

I was actually intending for him to be somewhat of a non-combat oriented character - IE, most fights would end with mass evasion or fleeing, barring backstab.

But you're right, I'll do... something.

[Parrhesia]

I'm just afraid that at 0 strength

Pessimistic and dishonorable, able to stab a 'friend' in the back without a second thought.

He can't if they're wearing anything heavier than leather armour.

Will flee when matched with an opponent he knows he can't beat fairly.

Read: Anyone.

Also, how do you pronounce Delves?

[CT075]

I gave him some strength. And I intended for a lot of fleeing to happen anyway.

Del-vees

[Wen Yang]

Name: Shayna Ashe.

Sex: Female.

Nationality: Castrian.

RPer: Kopfjager.

Age: 29.

Appearance:

Height: 6'3.

Weight: 214 lbs.

Personality: Compassionate to her friends and caring to her allies, but ruthless against enemies. Prefers face-to-face honorable battles, but understands that military reality often calls for less honorable tactics and adjusts as well as she could.

Backstory: An orphan who lost all her family to famine, Shayna was adopted and raised by an order of monks whose philosophy was to seek perfection through battle. Growing up in such an environment, she ended up as a pious and humble young woman who was satisfied by the simplest of fares and accomodations, yet trained so well in the arts martial that she would likely be able to take on most men her age without much trouble. She left the monks at her eighteenth birthday, intent on seeking her own path to enlightment through battle, and in the years she spent since then, had proven her skills time and again to the point of being inducted into the order of paladins, who were amongst the best warriors in Castria.

Class: Warrior.

Level: 1.

Attributes: Str 7/Sta 10/Dex 0/Agi 8

Skills: Defensive.

Equipment: A suit of full plate mail (badly battered and damaged, but still serviceable, if barely), a tower shield (just as battered as the armor), and a heavy flanged mace.

Edited December 19, 2011 by Kopfjager

[Ether]

Name: Leonhard

Sex: Male

Nationality: Castrian

RPer: Ether

Age: 35

Appearance: Leonhard's main physical trait is his outstanding bulk. He stands well over a head higher than most of his compatriots, clocking in at 216 cm tall(7'1"). Coupled with his muscular physique, he is considered a towering giant by most. His auburn hair is slightly past shoulder length, usually pulled back into a sloppy ponytail, and he keeps a light stubble about his chin. His eyes are a chestnut brown.

Personality: Leonhard is generally kindhearted, if not a bit easily irritable. Brave and honourable to a fault, he never turns his back to an enemy, even in retreat staring them down.

Backstory: Leonhard was born the son of a humble town smith, whose only notable jobs were repairing and selling to the local military fort. The town was never much for combat however, and after a time, the fort fell to little more than ruins. With no need for weaponry and armour, the smith`s stockpile of funds began to dwindle year by year, his wife's pleas to find another way of living left unheeded.

"This is what I was born to do. I am far too old to change it now... but our son... he can make a name for himself somewhere... it is too late for me to learn a new career now."

With those words, the 20 year old Leonhard's future was decided. Told do abandon smithing by the man who taught him all he knew, and to earn his keep as the fighter his body screamed for him to be. With the parting gift of a set of sturdy steel platemail and the heavy steel blade that the father thought best suited his son, Leonhard left the small town to embark on his days of working as a mercenary to support his ailing and aging family.

And make a name for himself he certainly did. He lived poorly, sending all but what he required to live to the father that had given him his path in life. On the battlefield he came to be known as 'Leon the Crusher', a name derived from the sheer power of his blows, said to effortlessly rip men in half with a hard swing of his blade.

After the small rural town of his origin was wiped from the map in a skirmish with Rysland, Leonhard brought himself to join the ranks of the Castrian military engaging the bastards who killed them off. To be forced to retreat against the horde and be branded a deserter plagues Leonhard's thoughts, and he wants nothing more than to tear into that horde a second time to restore his honour, and avenge his parents.

Class: Mercenary

Level: 1

Attributes: 10/8/6/1

Skills: Slam, (Offensive)

Equipment(Discussed with Furet): An old full-body set of heavy steel platemail, highly worn from long years of use, though still in working shape to provide daunting protection.

- A heavy steel 2H Greatsword(counts as hacking)

Edited December 19, 2011 by Ether

[Rapier]

Uh, sure, once you pick your stats out.

(...187 cm is tall for an archer? I'd think of your man as more lanky for an archer.)

Ok, I've edited my post.

[Parrhesia]

k, then Accepted. Same with Leonhard.

Name: Kerrard

Sex: Male

Nationality: Petrarchan

RPer: Furetchen

Age: 28

Appearance: (Picture will be soon) Scruffy, shoulder-length dark brown hair, green eyes. Lean build, but strong. Still wearing the green hauberk with battered steel rings. Long leather gloves and tough, brown leather boots. Dark grey leggings. Warpaint, applied every day a battle is expected, consists of dark blue covering the left half of his face.

Personality: Kerrard is a bitter alcoholic who two nations would pay a decent price for. He acts pretty much as you'd expect, given the situation.

Backstory: Kerrard doesn't want your sympathy, nor does he want your life stories. He joined the army at a young age, trained as a longbowman. This was specifically for one reason, and that reason was to follow a local girl who he was enamoured of. Unfortunately, she died in circumstances he does not care to share, and escaping the army was not as easy as he had believed. So he figured it was easier facing axes in the army than facing starvation in the Blight. Besides, the war was over now. What did he have to fear?

Unfortunately, as part of a power grab for political gain, Lord Serif felt it necessary that he back the Castrian war effort. When they called for reinforcements, he sent a mere hundred and sixty bowmen, Kerrard amongst them.

Now, Kerrard was not the most highly motivated man the Gods had seen fit to put on the land. So when a cavalry charge came thundering at his troop of archers, he was the first to bolt. His mates were quick to follow, but not quick enough; only three of the archers lived.

Class: Archer

Level: 1

Attributes: Str 9/Sta 5/Dex 8/Agi 3

Skills: Offensive

Equipment: Standard equipment - Longbow, sword, and a ringmail hauberk

Accepted by Eclipse, who also intends to roll a character.

Edited December 19, 2011 by Furetchen

[Blasied]

I like making characters so, regardless of my activity levels, let's go.

Name: Varon

Sex: Male

Nationality: Castrian

RPer: Blasied

Age: 26

Appearance: Tall but otherwise fairly generic. His longish brown hair is perpetually tied into a ponytail. Bearded. Somewhat intimidating to look at. Usually looks tired.

Personality: He's actually a mild mannered pushover who rarely speaks to others. The closer you get to know him however, the more of a jerk he becomes because he feels he knows you well enough to stop putting on social airs to make a good impression. Likes plants. And fire.

Backstory: The only son of a farming family, tiring work was never foreign to him. His history with plants led him to seek out the village apothecary when he was required to become an apprentice to someone (go out, get a job, see the world, meet a girl and MAKE US SOME DAMN MONEY!) He cut a lot of herbs in his work and became very precise with his hands and eyesight. However his boss had no clue how to manage money and the last job Varon was ever given from him was to burn down the apothecary to claim insurance money. Finding himself out of a job he went back home to the loving embrace of his family who were so overjoyed to see him again that they immediately dragged him off to the army to keep getting them a steady income. Since his joining, several small fires started happening throughout the army buildings, although no one ever found out precisely how they started or why the plants never burned. Varon quickly distanced himself from the over-eager fighting types to become a medic. In a pinch he could always be relied upon to burn the wound shut if nothing else had worked. Five hours after he was deployed into the war zone, Varon saw his first corpse. This prompted him to run for the hills which led him into the current situation.

Class: Apothecary

Level: 1

Attributes: Str 5/Sta 8/Dex 8/Agi 4

Skills: Offensive (Weak Firebombs)

Equipment: Standard issue leather armour, generic crossbow, apothecary stuff (healing poultices, FIRE BOMBS)

Yay.

Edited December 19, 2011 by Blasied

[Parrhesia]

Pick one of Offensive/Defensive/Support for ski- fuck it, with so much reference to fire, I'm going to assume you would go instantly for Weak Firebombs.

Also accepted.

Also I can't tag.

Edited December 19, 2011 by Furetchen

[eclipse]

Name: Selina

Sex: Female

Nationality: Castrian

RPer: ME~!

Age: 30

Appearance: Medium height and build, light brown hair, brown eyes, generally forgettable

Personality: Way too honorable for her own good. Don't talk to her about plants, because she'll never shut up.

Backstory: Selina started life as a merchant's daughter. Her parents specialized in herbs, and when they weren't looking, she'd study them on her own. Instead of trying to talk customers into buying her parent's wares, she'd go on endlessly about the various properties of the herbs she was supposed to sell. This turned away several potential customers, but a wandering apothecary was impressed by her depth of knowledge, and paid for both the herbs and her service. Little did she know. . .

This particular apothecary soon enlisted in the Castrian army. With a shrug, she followed. His reasons were far more sinister than she could imagine - he'd been asked to concoct poisons for the army. This horrified her, but she couldn't very well leave, as her parents wouldn't accept her back. When a soldier accidentally ate one of his poisons, she was able to talk him into letting her create antidotes for his poison. Thus, teacher and student worked to improve themselves, even though they were on opposite sides. When she wasn't countering his latest mixture, she'd attempt to use a crossbow, with mixed results.

On the day of the big battle, she and her teacher were called upon, each to work their craft. Her teacher was to throw an airborne powder in the air, to blind their opponents. She needed to apply drops to the eyes of their own troops, so that they wouldn't be affected by it. Before she could start, someone fired a bolt at her teacher, killing him, and piercing the bags he'd been carrying. Blinded and confused, she ran. . .

Class: Apothecary

Level: 1

Attributes: Str 4/Sta 8/Dex 7/Agi 6

Skills: Defensive (you guys need someone to patch you up)

Equipment: Standard Castrian apothecary fare: weak crossbow, leather armor (pfeh), and some medicinal herbs

[Parrhesia]

Obviously Eclipse is accepted, and Kay gets a pass too.

...holy shit this party is huge.

[-Cynthia-]

Name: Rebekka Ravensdale

Sex: Female

Nationality: Rosian (and Castrian sort of)

RPer: I'm not signing up someone else's character.

Age: 23

Appearance: About 5'11 And since I don't like describing physical features here's an approximate picture:

Personality: Doesn't take life too seriously most of the time. Hobbies including fighting and drinking. Generally self-serving.

Backstory: Rebekka's father was a Castrian nobleman who traveled to the Rosary States to make a deal with one of the local lords. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately depending on your stance on things), the nobleman fell in love with one of the local whores and never returned home.

Years later, her father received the news that the last remaining heir in his way for the Ravensdale fortune had finally died and so he sent his daughter to Castria to retrieve the fortune. Unfortunately, she found it difficult to make her way into the ranks of the nobility, seeming to be just a random wandering Rosian, so she thought to gain prestige by joining Castria's war against Rysland. This plan has not gone well so far.

Class: Rogue

Level: 1

Attributes: Str 5/Sta 8/Dex 5/Agi 7

Skills: Defensive

Equipment: GM's call etc.

[Parrhesia]

Man is that a NWN portrait

you are SO in

You get Beneath Notice for a skill!

[ReformBlade]

Name: Angeline Atros

Sex: Female (It's a dream I've always had)

Nationality: Rosary States

RPer: SlaveBlade (Or RainbowKitty as it stands now)

Age: 23

Appearance: Blue eyes, grey hair mediumish in length, a rather strong build, various gashing scars across her cheeks.

Personality: Friendly despite her looks, though she might get pissed if you stare or go out of your way to point out a flaw. Oh by the way, a bit of an ego.

Backstory: Growing up, Angeline was a rather diligent child, a goody-two-shoes almost. Of course, nothing stays golden forever. Fights would break out among her friends, and she would usually be the on stepping in to stop them, often getting bruised in the process. Her parents breathed a sigh of relief when she came home from her first scuffle, wondering if she'd ever make it in this day and age. Before Angeline knew it, she was marching into a battle, one that seemed hopeless when the enemy appeared. One that made her fear for her life, enough to run and hide. "Live to fight another day, I say..."

Class: Warrior

Level: 1

Attributes: 8/10/2/5

Skills: Support

Equipment: NONE so far.

[Parrhesia]

ACCEPTED

You gain the skill of True Grit.

Edited December 19, 2011 by Furetchen

[Shin]

Hopefully you can squeeze one more aboard!

Name: Diray

Sex: Male

Nationality: Petrachan

RPer: Dokutayuu

Age: 24

Appearance:

Also not stunningly tall, 5'8''. Armour is completely devoid of any insignia.

Personality: Fairly aloof and self-preserving. To him, most people are tools to meet an end. However, he'll follow a plan if it suits him and even be remotely polite about it.

Backstory: Diray had been brought up as a mercenary for as long as he remembered, after being picked up by a troop at a young age. Initially he was used as a slave, doing menial tasks. Then in his adolescent years, he was designated as the group archer, after the previous one had lost an arm in battle. Under his tuition, Diray gradually refined his skills, almost receiving praise from the group leader. It was a simple existence, but it was enough.

Eventually, the group dwindled in numbers. Diray being amongst the last. Feeling that it was a dead end, he left, offering his services for anyone willing to pay the price.

Class: Archer

Level: 1

Attributes: Str/Sta/Dex/Agi 5/4/8/8

Skills: Defensive

Equipment: Do your worst!

Edited January 2, 2012 by Dokutayuu

[CT075]

this is gonna be the hugest starting party ever

[Rothene]

We shall trump all other standard encounters! So long as our 4Stamina mercenaries do not all die in the first combat round... 8[

[Bluedoom]

Name: Raphiel Williams

Sex: Male of course.

Nationality: Rosary States

RPer: Marth/blues

Age: 26

Appearance: Six feet exact, about 200 pounds. Brown hair, blue pupils, and a scar on his left cheek.

Personality: Quick to anger, responsible and a workaholic. Absolutely values money, he's a miser.

Backstory:(K. Srs profile now.)

Raphiel was born to a family of peasants. Being poor, he had to work hard in the fields alongside his parents at a young age. He had to till the lands and look after the cows almost all the time. There were a couple of times when he collapsed because of the heat and he was bedridden for days. He just wished his family had more money. There was always a threat of thieves stealing from the household, but they had always been careful.

There came a time when thieves DID break in and stole almost all of their money. Luckily Raphiel saw the thieves and decided to chase after them... into some forest where he got lost and could not find his way back. The chase was futile because they were real fast. It was really stupid of Raphiel, because he had a bad sense of directions. He collapsed out of starvation.

When he awoke he found himself in some strange hut. He could smell freshly made tea, which watered his mouth. He decided to check the place out and found all sorts of things- weird chains, chests, tea bags, and more. It was quite the peculiar place, but he still didn't know where he was. As he went to check the outside he saw a couple of men sipping tea. They noticed him and as one would guess, a conversation started.

He was pretty bulky for a teenager, and he looked like he made the cut for it. The men decided to take him along with them- they were mercenaries themselves, but they were'nt in a group. They slowly taught Raphiel the basics of fighting, and he'd have to learn to live with it. The place they were at was the other side of the forest- going back would be dangerous. He was seperated from his family forever.

At first he was not very good at battle, and he had to sit back and watch his older mercenary buddies fight others to learn some techniques. It took many practice sessions and many months. No, not months, a couple of years before he actually got into a real battle. It was a miracle how he came out alive- he was barely able to stand amidst out of nervousness.

Years went by and Raphiel grew not only in stature, but in wisdom. Perhaps not the kind of wisdom one can see when you're well-versed in various subjects, but more of the kind of wisdom you see in terms of behaviour. less impatient, not hasty, and more skilled. He actually knew where he was going now, unlike his former self. His two teachers were long gone- they died in one of the encounters and he had to fend for himself since then. His travels took him as far as Petrarch, where he enlisted in the army to fight. He needed gold and he'd get gold. Except for the part where he runs like a coward to the outpost when the situation turned bad. Now he mulls over his new dilemma and keeps worrying a lot about what will happen next.

Class: Mercenary. Let's beat the crap out of people.

Level: (ATM should be 1)

Attributes: 7/7/2/9

Skills: Defensive

Equipment: (Don't pick any out, you'll be given a starting set based on class. Being from the army, the first users to join will probably have slightly better stuff on them.)

Edited December 21, 2011 by Marth

[Parrhesia]

Diray's accepted.

Raphiel, um, fix the bullshit first. Then we talk.

'The bullshit' encompasses pretty much all of that submission, so don't get your hopes up.

And submissions are closed for now. Slightly late. Anyone that joins later than this won't arrive until later. On the plus side, this means that all nationality/class combinations have opened up.

Edited December 19, 2011 by Furetchen

[Bluedoom]

And... profile has been edited.

[Parrhesia]

And rejected, because your first impression was overwhelmingly negative amongst the other players. So yeah, no.

[Iris]

When you were young, you used to dream of what it would be like to be a warrior. You dreamt of a shining hero in full plate effortlessly hacking down foes left and right... you kept a toy wooden sword by your side.

FURETCHEN, YOU HAVE DESCRIBED MY CHILDHOOD DREAMS EXACTLY —

In a militaristic age such as this, this is natural, and indeed considered healthy.

Oh.

Hm, I've roleplayed quite a lot before, but never on SF. How does this effect me?

And submissions are closed for now. Slightly late. Anyone that joins later than this won't arrive until later. On the plus side, this means that all nationality/class combinations have opened up.

asdfghjkl;

Never mind.

[Parrhesia]

Well, submissions to be part of the opening group are closed. People themselves can join, but... actually meeting up with the group will be ... not immediate. And stuff.

So yeah, join away.