Post by Son of the Dragon on May 14, 2016 21:43:48 GMT
END GAME:
((Players are encouraged to play with multiple characters as this RP will embrace death mechanics. Please post your characters to the OOC thread so I can add them to the list. Thanks!))
Characters:
Lord Maddox Rook
Age: 43
A tall and imposing figure, Lord Rook has been master of the Point for seventeen years following the death of his father – Marcus -- at the hands of agents of Lord Edmon of House Sykes; a betrayal that left Maddox with several scars across his arms, face, and chest. He is a man who is slow to trust and anger but whose fury can be unmatched in the Highlands of Fenrrion. His hair – the blue-black mane atop his head – is that of his family’s namesake: the rook. His right eye is blinded, victim of the assassination plot from long ago. He wields his family’s long-sword, Night, and a heavy wooden round shield.
Marion Rook
Age: 20
The daughter of Maddox Rook and the sister of the recently deceased Matthias, Marrion was trained from a young age to take up the mantle of one of the shieldmaidens of the Highlands. Much to the chagrin of her mother, the long-departed Elleanor Karthus, Marion willfully undertook this training. She fights a constant struggle as she aims to impress her father’s bannermen, maintain the roles of a woman of noble birth, and learn the lessons of one set to inherit the title of Lord of the Point. She wears her blue-black Rook hair in a long braid, and fire burns within the sapphire eyes of her Karthus lineage. Marion fights with a short spear and wooden round shield.
Roland of Fenn’s Landing
Age: 36
A child of the nearby fief of Fenn’s Landing, Roland rose to prominence as the town’s recurring champion of the town’s martial games. At the age of eighteen Roland caught the attention of Marcus Rook who brought Roland into the keep as a squire. After the assassination of Marcus, Roland was devastated as the man who had aided him a year prior laid dying before him. When Maddox inherited the keep, Roland’s skills as a combatant were further utilized as he became one of the lord’s most trusted blades. Roland wears his brown hair short and his face is clean shaven; his eyes are an oaken brown. He wields a long-sword and a round shield as well as a keen sarcastic wit.
Calastor Rivers
Age: 27
A swordsman sworn to House Rook, Rivers is a man of few words who prefers to let his sword do the talking. Though many believe him to be a knight, that would be a false impression: Rivers is merely a mercenary with an overdeveloped sense of honor. One way that applies to his everyday life is his contract: though many lords have offered him a higher price for his services, he will continue to serve Lord Rook as long as he continues to be paid. Currently, he is serving in the company of the Lady Marion, as one of her bodyguards. He uses a hand-and-a-half sword and a buckler in combat.
Avenna of Wellencourt
Age: 24
The second mate of a small smuggling vessel, Avenna (or "Ave" to her friends) is a cheerful and charming woman with a wandering eye--whether her glance is seeking riches, glory, or attractive company. She received an unexpected promotion when the Black Ships made landfall. The first mate and captain, drunk and unprepared, were killed in their cups while Ave rallied the crew and put out to sea. Her most recent landfall was in the territory of Lord Rook, where she hopes that she will find safer harbor. While Avenna prefers not to get directly involved in combat, she has a short recurve bow and a long dagger.
Senka
Age: 17
Backstory: Senka showed up at one of the maid's quarters at Rook's Point when she was four years old. She knew her name was Senka, but that was about it. When asked where her home was or how she got there, Senka just shook her head and started crying. Eventually, the maid just took her in, and Senka grew up working at the keep. However, when she was around 9 years old, she found some old throwing knives and started to practice with them, just for fun. One of Lord Rook's mercenaries noticed, and began helping her develop her skills. She eventually took interest in other aspects of mercenary work, such as poison and stealth, while her mother tried to pressure her into learning sewing and knitting instead. She has continued her mercenary studies in secret on a regular basis, but has never actually left the keep. She is pretty sure Lord Rook doesn't know of her studies (although, in actuality he probably does).
Personality: Senka is rather quiet, and prefers to listen rather than to speak. She is stubborn, but not confrontational. She respects those who walk their own path, regardless of duty or honor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fenn’s Landing was accustomed to the sounds of waves and gulls, ships coming and going from the small harbor, and the brays of oxen and sheep in their pastures. Fields of oat, grain, kale, and flax kept those peasants not on the open waters hard at work. A single windmill sat atop one of the cresting hills to the east and saw business year round. A few stone-walled buildings in the village center acted as hubs for the populace, providing goods, entertainment, and leisure after long days in the field or on the water. A church offered salvation to all who sought the word of the Lord of Fire whose golden sunburst crest would shine brightly in the mid-day sun atop the bell tower. Everything burned and it’s citizens fled when the black longships landed and the undead invaders put the village to the flame.
Roland watched as the fires cleansed the land in the distance. Everything he had known growing up was being destroyed before his very eyes. The festival grounds, George’s General Goods, The Brazen Ox tavern. A childhood of memories put to the torch by a foe without fear, hunger, or honor. He had been there when the longships first arrived; their silhouettes masked some by the darkness of the Long Night. It was when they landed that the stench of death first hit him, and it wasn’t until the first scream that everything began to make sense. He saved as many people as he could, but now he watched helplessly as Fenn’s Landing burned from atop the southern tower of the Point’s inner wall as those lucky to flee the onslaught of the Landing huddled for safety within the keep’s courtyard.
The cries of the women and children were muffled within the sanctum walls of Rook’s Point. Inside, Maddox Rook loomed over the corpse of his eldest son, Matthias, just as he had with his father. It would be the second time a lord of the Point would burn by his hand; the third time he would prepare the Rite of Immolation for one he had loved. He raised his head to gaze upon the crest of the Lord of Fire -- that glorious sunburst which had saved the souls of countless men and women before him -- and sighed; the cold night air fogged his breath. Maddox rounded the unlit pyre and approached the sigil; frost clung to the bronze before him. He scoffed, where was this Lord of Fire now? Certainly he was not here, not while the dead sail a dying sea and the homes of the innocent burned. Maddox scoffed again and his gaze again returned to the corpse before him.
Marion had been watching her father for some time now as he paced round and around Matthias’s funeral pyre. She had wondered why he had not given Matthias his last rite -- why he chose to prolong the suffering and mourning. The Church had long taught that the Rite of Immolation cleansed not only the body and spirit of the departed but also the hearts and minds of those afflicted by the tragedy. “Father”, she had said, rising from her bench along the far wall and approaching the grizzled man before her, “We cannot delay any further. The men -- they need you out there with them. You can’t honestly believe they will stand and face this threat alone? We’ve seen what they can do… The men need someone to lead them, not mourn over what has happened.” Maddox turned and faced his daughter.
“Yes. Yes, you’re probably right. I just… just five more minutes with my son, that’s all… please?” He turned again to look once more upon Matthias, his grip tightening around the neck of the bottle of heavenly oil. “I promise I’ll be out there shortly, my dear. Tend to the men, make sure we’re well stocked for what is to come.” Marion nodded, and proceeded to the door.
((Players are encouraged to play with multiple characters as this RP will embrace death mechanics. Please post your characters to the OOC thread so I can add them to the list. Thanks!))
Characters:
Lord Maddox Rook
Age: 43
A tall and imposing figure, Lord Rook has been master of the Point for seventeen years following the death of his father – Marcus -- at the hands of agents of Lord Edmon of House Sykes; a betrayal that left Maddox with several scars across his arms, face, and chest. He is a man who is slow to trust and anger but whose fury can be unmatched in the Highlands of Fenrrion. His hair – the blue-black mane atop his head – is that of his family’s namesake: the rook. His right eye is blinded, victim of the assassination plot from long ago. He wields his family’s long-sword, Night, and a heavy wooden round shield.
Marion Rook
Age: 20
The daughter of Maddox Rook and the sister of the recently deceased Matthias, Marrion was trained from a young age to take up the mantle of one of the shieldmaidens of the Highlands. Much to the chagrin of her mother, the long-departed Elleanor Karthus, Marion willfully undertook this training. She fights a constant struggle as she aims to impress her father’s bannermen, maintain the roles of a woman of noble birth, and learn the lessons of one set to inherit the title of Lord of the Point. She wears her blue-black Rook hair in a long braid, and fire burns within the sapphire eyes of her Karthus lineage. Marion fights with a short spear and wooden round shield.
Roland of Fenn’s Landing
Age: 36
A child of the nearby fief of Fenn’s Landing, Roland rose to prominence as the town’s recurring champion of the town’s martial games. At the age of eighteen Roland caught the attention of Marcus Rook who brought Roland into the keep as a squire. After the assassination of Marcus, Roland was devastated as the man who had aided him a year prior laid dying before him. When Maddox inherited the keep, Roland’s skills as a combatant were further utilized as he became one of the lord’s most trusted blades. Roland wears his brown hair short and his face is clean shaven; his eyes are an oaken brown. He wields a long-sword and a round shield as well as a keen sarcastic wit.
Calastor Rivers
Age: 27
A swordsman sworn to House Rook, Rivers is a man of few words who prefers to let his sword do the talking. Though many believe him to be a knight, that would be a false impression: Rivers is merely a mercenary with an overdeveloped sense of honor. One way that applies to his everyday life is his contract: though many lords have offered him a higher price for his services, he will continue to serve Lord Rook as long as he continues to be paid. Currently, he is serving in the company of the Lady Marion, as one of her bodyguards. He uses a hand-and-a-half sword and a buckler in combat.
Avenna of Wellencourt
Age: 24
The second mate of a small smuggling vessel, Avenna (or "Ave" to her friends) is a cheerful and charming woman with a wandering eye--whether her glance is seeking riches, glory, or attractive company. She received an unexpected promotion when the Black Ships made landfall. The first mate and captain, drunk and unprepared, were killed in their cups while Ave rallied the crew and put out to sea. Her most recent landfall was in the territory of Lord Rook, where she hopes that she will find safer harbor. While Avenna prefers not to get directly involved in combat, she has a short recurve bow and a long dagger.
Senka
Age: 17
Backstory: Senka showed up at one of the maid's quarters at Rook's Point when she was four years old. She knew her name was Senka, but that was about it. When asked where her home was or how she got there, Senka just shook her head and started crying. Eventually, the maid just took her in, and Senka grew up working at the keep. However, when she was around 9 years old, she found some old throwing knives and started to practice with them, just for fun. One of Lord Rook's mercenaries noticed, and began helping her develop her skills. She eventually took interest in other aspects of mercenary work, such as poison and stealth, while her mother tried to pressure her into learning sewing and knitting instead. She has continued her mercenary studies in secret on a regular basis, but has never actually left the keep. She is pretty sure Lord Rook doesn't know of her studies (although, in actuality he probably does).
Personality: Senka is rather quiet, and prefers to listen rather than to speak. She is stubborn, but not confrontational. She respects those who walk their own path, regardless of duty or honor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fenn’s Landing was accustomed to the sounds of waves and gulls, ships coming and going from the small harbor, and the brays of oxen and sheep in their pastures. Fields of oat, grain, kale, and flax kept those peasants not on the open waters hard at work. A single windmill sat atop one of the cresting hills to the east and saw business year round. A few stone-walled buildings in the village center acted as hubs for the populace, providing goods, entertainment, and leisure after long days in the field or on the water. A church offered salvation to all who sought the word of the Lord of Fire whose golden sunburst crest would shine brightly in the mid-day sun atop the bell tower. Everything burned and it’s citizens fled when the black longships landed and the undead invaders put the village to the flame.
Roland watched as the fires cleansed the land in the distance. Everything he had known growing up was being destroyed before his very eyes. The festival grounds, George’s General Goods, The Brazen Ox tavern. A childhood of memories put to the torch by a foe without fear, hunger, or honor. He had been there when the longships first arrived; their silhouettes masked some by the darkness of the Long Night. It was when they landed that the stench of death first hit him, and it wasn’t until the first scream that everything began to make sense. He saved as many people as he could, but now he watched helplessly as Fenn’s Landing burned from atop the southern tower of the Point’s inner wall as those lucky to flee the onslaught of the Landing huddled for safety within the keep’s courtyard.
The cries of the women and children were muffled within the sanctum walls of Rook’s Point. Inside, Maddox Rook loomed over the corpse of his eldest son, Matthias, just as he had with his father. It would be the second time a lord of the Point would burn by his hand; the third time he would prepare the Rite of Immolation for one he had loved. He raised his head to gaze upon the crest of the Lord of Fire -- that glorious sunburst which had saved the souls of countless men and women before him -- and sighed; the cold night air fogged his breath. Maddox rounded the unlit pyre and approached the sigil; frost clung to the bronze before him. He scoffed, where was this Lord of Fire now? Certainly he was not here, not while the dead sail a dying sea and the homes of the innocent burned. Maddox scoffed again and his gaze again returned to the corpse before him.
Marion had been watching her father for some time now as he paced round and around Matthias’s funeral pyre. She had wondered why he had not given Matthias his last rite -- why he chose to prolong the suffering and mourning. The Church had long taught that the Rite of Immolation cleansed not only the body and spirit of the departed but also the hearts and minds of those afflicted by the tragedy. “Father”, she had said, rising from her bench along the far wall and approaching the grizzled man before her, “We cannot delay any further. The men -- they need you out there with them. You can’t honestly believe they will stand and face this threat alone? We’ve seen what they can do… The men need someone to lead them, not mourn over what has happened.” Maddox turned and faced his daughter.
“Yes. Yes, you’re probably right. I just… just five more minutes with my son, that’s all… please?” He turned again to look once more upon Matthias, his grip tightening around the neck of the bottle of heavenly oil. “I promise I’ll be out there shortly, my dear. Tend to the men, make sure we’re well stocked for what is to come.” Marion nodded, and proceeded to the door.
