The ship rocked violently, the crew shouted and screamed, and the scent of fire and smoke permeated the lower decks. Below the din, Fiachra read. Peter died on the pages, and Fiachra wondered if he too would die here. Taken before his time, mourned by those he left behind, by his mother and father, his childhood sweetheart Gianna, his squire Lamont—Peter's death indeed was a thing to be lamented.
The sounds of death subsided, and Fiachra was left alone with the dust of his cell and the chains that bound him within it. The motes swirled in the air, and in it he saw images of a young girl. In a marketplace, she pilfered apples and bread; under the cover of a sprawling forest, a large beast chased her, but still she smiled; in a desert necropolis she was held in chains, indignation and rebellion clear in her eyes; on a skyship she stared wistfully toward the horizon. Her death, Fiachra thought, would be a tragedy.
“Who keeps treasure in a prison?”
A voice, full of irritation, drew him from his visions. The door to his cell rattled.
“And why is it locked?”
“Uh... most prisons have locked doors, Jet.”
The people on the other side banged and beat at the door in frustration. Eventually, Fiachra heard an exasperated sigh, and a louder thudding noise broke the handle of the door. It swung open and Fiachra saw the people responsible for the noise on the deck: a tall man with a half-smoked cigarette and a girl with indignant eyes.
The man put a hand on the back of his head and looked away, knowing the sort of baggage they had just come across. Jet lacked understanding.
“So... do you know where... the treasure is?” she asked Fiachra. She was positive he didn't. He was in chains, he was emaciated and scarred, and he looked like death. The room smelled of moth-eaten tomes, stale air, and a man who hadn't bathed in weeks.
The man put a hand on her shoulder and leaned down, whispering something into her ear.
“Nicolai, are you an idiot? That's a person. People can't be—”
“He's right,” Fiachra said, knowing what Nicolai had just told her. “It is me.” Jet stared at him incredulously.
“Well,” Nicolai said, “let's get him out of here. We'll figure the rest out on a ship that isn't about to sink.”
And so marked the beginning of their adventure.
Premise:
Spoiler
The Dawn Seeker, a noble skyship of ignoble purpose, is manned by Captain Jet, her first mate, Nicolai, and their navigators, Fiachra and Dorian (the goat). Aboard the Seeker, they travel across the world of Matala, having adventures, searching for treasure in both ancient tombs and modern coffers, and robbing people blind. These three are pirates. They are quite nice people, yes, but they pillage and murder and cause all sorts of havoc. You, too, are a pirate aboard the ship. How you found your way into the hearts of these three and joined up with them is your story to tell—my story to tell is what happens next.
An action/adventure roleplay with selfishness and material wealth as core motivations is the name of the game. Y'all just coast around through the sky, looking for wealth, attractive members of whichever sex strikes your fancy, and nifty artifacts or whatever. It doesn't really matter what you want, the point is that you can have it—by taking it illegally.
Where does the Action come in?
There will be some combat-related aspects to this. Available to you are martial proficiencies, various types of magic, and strange artifacts that grant mysterious powers—for example, Nicolai has a dagger that lets him meld into the shadows, with which he does various things. Mostly melding into shadows, but maybe other things. You can have one of these mystical items if you so choose, because seeing things, wanting them, and then taking them is, again, the name of the game.
Where does the Adventure come in?
This is an adventure roleplay because you will be exploring various locales, from forests to mountains to cities to deserts to tundras to whatever else. The sky is, quite literally, the limit. Sometimes you will go where I will you, and other times there will be choices for where the ship heads—no matter what, there will be various things to do in each place. The crew works together for big heists, but also allows for lots of personal whatever-the-fuckery to do what you so please.
Locations:
Spoiler
Ashlands -- An inhospitable region covered in ash at the base of a volcano.
Feln -- A city in a swamp known for its disreputable magic community.
Ivares -- A desert city with a large bazaar, known as a black market hub.
Laris -- A castle atop one of the highest mountains in the world, nestled within the clouds.
The Divide -- A large chasm that splits Matala in two.
Merchant States -- A coalition of city-states on the plains ruled by Merchant King Tybalt. Located in the center of one of Matala's largest continents, and as such is a hub for travelers going to other areas.
The Old Wood -- A mysterious forest with a constantly shifting layout.
Character Sheet:
Spoiler
[Appearance]
Name:
Age:
Gender:
Origin Story: How did you come to meet the crew of the Dawn Seeker? Why did you come along with them? Why did they let you? Include what you want to get out of the pirate life in this section--are you looking for something in particular, or do you just particularly enjoy murder and theft?
Skills: What are you good at? Swordsmanship, knitting, hambone, ...? No hard cap on skills, but be reasonable.
Equipment: Things from a sword, a knitting needle, or some magic artifact or something. Feel free to be imaginative, but again, be reasonable.
Example Characters:
Spoiler
Jet
Spoiler
Name: Jet
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Origin Story: Jet's father and Nicolai together made up a fearsome team of pirates. When Jet's mother died, her father brought her along on their ship, the Dawn Seeker, because it was the only life he knew how to live. When her father died as well, she took over duties as captain.
Skills: Theft, murder, needlepoint, ???
Equipment: Mysterious staff, childlike sense of wonder.
Nicolai
Spoiler
Name: Nicolai
Age: 39
Gender: Male
Origin Story: Nicolai was a pirate for most of his life along side his friend, Jet's father. When her father died, he took over the responsibility of looking after Jet.
Skills: Prophecy, reading, taking care of goats, fire magic.
Equipment: Wand, books, goat snacks (idk what goats eat).
Dorian
Spoiler
Name: Dorian
Age: ???
Gender: Male
Origin Story: When the Dawn Seeker stopped down for supplies, Fiachra found a goat. He really, really wanted it for some reason, so Jet allowed it. He named the goat Dorian, and they became the best of friends.
Skills: Goat.
Equipment: Goat?
Yo. My name's Usey, and I like long walks on the beach and the idea of owning thirty cats. I'm working on a roleplay, more to come soon.
Edited by Johnny Paradise, 27 November 2014 - 02:38 AM.
The morning was cold as usual in Sipani, the city of fogs. Ratter took a sip from his flask, some foul concoction brewed by the local boys that helped ease the numbing pain of their daily routines, and let out a heavy sigh. Though he took odd jobs all around the city in order to support his day by day lifestyle, cleaning Duke Orlo's manor was the one he found he took most often and hated the most. He often thought about stealing something from the Duke's lavish collection of foreign arts, but he knew getting caught would mean certain death for him. First and foremost, he was a coward, so he kept content with a sigh and a fit silent swearing, relegating the idea of stealing something and leaving the godforsaken town forever to his fantasies.
Even if he did muster up the courage and manage to accomplish it, where could he actually go? He had few friends, none outside of the city, and certainly none that dealt with the buying and selling of stolen art. He would be on the run for a day? A week? A month? Some uncertain but probably brief amount of time living in fear of being caught before actually being caught and punished horribly. It was a fool's dream.
"Feh. Can't believe this stupid painting could feed a bloke for a lifetime..." Ratter began his daily ritual of complaints before dusting the area around Duke Orlo's greatest treasure, an original work of the painter Giradelli. It took him about three heartbeats to realize that the painting was, in fact, missing and another three heartbeats to realized that he was truly and thoroughly fucked.
"Ohgods. What do Oi do? Duke will think oi stole his stupid focking shite painting. Oi'm so focking dead, I am. Cor this would 'appen to me. On a bloody focking Monday!" Ratter frantically paced around the room trying to decided what to do next, because what was next was probably a painful death. He panicked further when he heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Was Orlo home already?
"Some master thieves we are. We get the painting but can't even find our way out of the goddamn castle," said one unfamiliar voice. A man's.
"It's not my fault! Who designed this place anyway?! It's so stupid. Look, we're right back to where we started!" cried out another.Someone far younger and distinctly more female. "Let's just blow a hole through the wall!"
"We don't even know if we're near the exterior! And the guards will be crawling all over us in minutes!"
"Grr. Stupid castle! Stupid guards! Stupid city with its dumb fog and rude people!"
So these were the thieves that stole Orlo's treasure. Should he try to capture them to prove that he didn't steal the painting? No...they sounded dangerous and armed, and even if he could somehow subdue them Orlo was likely to just execute him for good measure for even being involved. That left one option...
"Ey' take me with you!" Ratter yelled out, appearing from hiding spot. "Take me with you and O'll lead you out of here."
Skills: Ratter is skilled at squeezing into tight places, slipping by unnoticed, and keeping his mouth shut. Years living on the streets of Sipani have made him street smart and years working all around the city have given him a wide array of skills in various forms of menial labor. He can sweep floors, shine shoes, cook stew, and do a bunch of other worthless things.
Origin Story: My first memory was of darkness. Endless blackness that stretch out before me infinitely. How long did I sit there before she found me? Decades? Centuries? Longer still? I don't know. I shiver at the thought. Metaphorically. I'm a mask you understand. See, just look up a bit at Jo there. See the mask? That's me. Sort of. I don't actually live in the mask but it is what anchors me here. I sort of just exist in the general area around it which is pretty cool except for the fact I can't interact with anything or anyone. Except Jo. I guess you can say she found me there and saved me from my solitary existence but that's not the whole story.
We saved each other that night.
I wasn't the only one that had been alone. Jo talked to me like her words were water and she was dying for thirst. They spilled out of her in a flood and I just sat there listening. What else could I do? Jo was so young back then but she strong, more so than she realized. She'd been for days by then. Her tribe had traveled south chasing game when they'd run across more than they bargained for. The pack of beasts tore through their camp with abandon and it was all the adults could do to buy time for their children. They used their bodies as shields to give them the opportunity to run. Jo might have been the only one left. She cried herself to sleep after that.
She thought the lie would help but it didn't. It just made the truth that much harder to understand. Afterall, how could anyone least of all a child understand why a family would abandon their daughter? She never said the words aloud but I knew the truth of it. It's a fundamental part of my being to understand. It's how I knew that this was the first time she had let herself feel that hurt. The first time she had felt safe since she'd been left behind. If believing the lie gave her peace than who was I to deny her that? It was easier than trying to explain what happened.
Things could only go up from there. We made that jungle our home. Did I mention that we were in the jungle? It's kind of important because that's where she grew up. A jungle as far as the eye could see and I taught her how to survive in it. I don't know how I knew these things I just did. The knowledge came to me unbidden as it was needed and so I passed it onto her. Jo was smart and skilled and learned faster than you'd expect for girl being lectured by a mask to. It was fun for a while but even the jungle began to feel small for Jo. She was a young woman now who burned to test her limits and so when a chance came how could I deny her?
Jo was curious about the pirates from the moment the Dawk Seeker landed in that clearing. It was coincidence that they'd come to look into the very ruins Jo had found me in. That's what she thought at least. I knew they'd come for me. I was the treasure they'd come all this way for. It was flattering really but pointless. I had already bonded with Jo. Bonded? Hmm...the word reminds me of something....but I don't remember what. Just out of reach and now it's gone.
Well, the short of it is Jo eventually revealed herself to them and guided them through the ruins and when they left empty handed she begged them to join as their chef.
Skills: Jo has all the survival skills down pat. She has a rough fighting style she picked up fighting animals in the wilderness. Her mainstay ability though is the bit of shamanim I taught her that lets her take on the aspects of animals and boost her natural abilities through imitation. It actually goes a bit beyond that but it was a bit over her head. I just told her to copy the animals and then eat them to gain their strength.
Equipment: Me (aka the mask if your forgot) and that's about it for now
Both characters seem good. I'll add them to a list, I'll pick some number I have yet to decide upon of characters after a week or so of waiting, then I'll start it up. Gotta limit crew space, after all, only so many cabins.
Hyped for the sequel to the first Digimon series I see.
Still don't know what to make. o3o
Woah wait there's a what?!
Start the hype train!
And this rp looks fun too.
Spoiler
Me by Mischief
Lazily slumbering by day, and wreaking havoc at night is none other than the Demoness that goes by the name Darkoda. Trickster and troublemaker alike, she is that which goes bump in the night. Toys in the shadows and plays on your fears to her advantage. Though usually her mischief is harmless, she is not a poltergeist you wish to enrage or gain disfavor from. With a brilliant smile and cat-like pupils set upon crimson irises, the pale silver of her hair just might be the only thing that might give away her location whenever she is setting up her next prank or ploy. Slumbering within the "haunted" grounds beneath the castle, her fitful dreams are ones of great splendor, wonder, and imagination. Dreams of the places she wishes she could go, if she weren't bound to the confines of the castle. A place where she was chained to by the words of the last Emperor, a descendant of her mother, Amaterasu herself. So reviled by this punishment, she became the trickster we all know and love today. Often during the night, the scratching that haunts Hime's dreams are that of Darkoda's claws, inscribing for us her hopes upon the castle wall.
Jonathan Ironnax Junior of the Ironnax family of Cornwell was once upon a time a simple university student - a young man meant to enter the high society of the empire and become an administrator or something in the colonial possessions. He would then add to the family fortune, earn himself a reputation, and eventually climb through the echelons of government and of upper class status until he could meet or, hopefully, surpass, his own father, who had been, in his time, vice-minister of the Admirality. He was in fact reared for the very purpose to be a most productive member of the empire. His father spared no expense to provide him a first class education - he tutored the young Jonathan himself in ancient languages, world history, mathematics, and even poetry. It was a lonely youth - his sole comfort was books and the promise that one day he would be a shining star. Jonathan wholehearted believe in his family's vision for himself and tried his hardest to fit their ideal. At the age of 18 he did his compulsory military service and saw action in the lands of Ulthar against rebels as part of the officer corp. There was a time where children of the upper class could do their military service without shooting a single bullet, but time had changed. The world was in turmoil. Rebels, pirates, terrorists - everyday there was an explosion, either of a building or of violence.
Jonathan was rather unprepared for the experience. Returned rather changed and with a trunk full of artifacts and books he had taken has war trophies. He enrolled at the University and began pursuing an intense course of philology. The books he had brought back were reputed to be spellbooks and work of great arcane worth - to the savages he had fought. To him it was of purely anthropological interest. He intended to couple his studies with his field notes from his two years in Ulthar to write a useful history of the land (none existed at the moment - all the ones currently available were pure rubbish) - it would be a good addition to his cursus honorum. Unfortunately for him, a scandal occurred in the imperial cabinet and his father fell into disgrace. Overnight his family was dishonoured, blacklisted from high society, and their money quickly running out as they staunchly insisted in pursuing their lifestyle despite being deprived of their imperial pension. Jonathan was now stuck at the University, and hoping the most from his situation, embarked seriously upon obtaining a doctorate. Unfortunately for him, the university also operated on considerations of status and his prospect for professorship, combined with his interest in a rather arcane field, made it unlikely he would ever find better employment than a schoolteacher.
Frustrated, he staked his chance on regaining some measure of prestige by making a serious archaeological discovery. Using the information he decrypted from the Ultharian tomes, he hoped to discover a major archaeological site that would bring him fame and fortune. Unable to gather an expedition, he decided to do it independently. Using the remains of his funds, he decided to hire a sky ship crew of dubious repute, The Dawn Seeker, to bring him there. It was only once he was on the ship that he realized what kind of repute they actually possessed. They were pirates. At first mortified, he played and eventually bartered with them to help him find the hidden city he believed to be located under ground. It turns out that the burial complex was in fact a supremely dangerous and evil place. The ensuing adventure was a sort of bonding experience for Jonathan and the rest of the crew and instead of giving the treasure to some museums, he used his connections with various art deals, private collectors, and some institutions, to trade in artifacts for large sums of money. He also decided to begin his own private collection, keeping some prime specimen of ancient historical significance and arcane splendor. Being a pirate might be his calling after all. There was nothing waiting for him back home for him anyway.
Skills: Bartitsu, marksmanship, knowledge of arcane lore, polyglot, knowledge of upper class mores
Equipment: canesword, tomes of eldritch lore, two pistols, two knives
"Spirits above, this kid doesn't give up! Die already!"
Everyone always says that to me. Hah! I spite on that! What happens to me doesn't matter in the end anyways! I survive, I take their precious looking weapons, and I make sure they bite the dust.
My life has been pretty boring before this whole man-hunt across this forsaken village of Skorr. But even after a while, it just seem that I have all the weapons that I found to my liking. The beautiful craftsmanship used to create such beautiful weapons just fills my life with purpose. Only I can use these beautiful weapons; not these pitiful peasants that loiter this place! I deserve ownership, and I will use them they way they were meant to be used.
These weapons I managed to steal from families were apparently passed down through many generations. I'm sure that these beautiful weapons don't enjoy such things as getting handed down to some undeserving pleb. The mere thought of them just being put up on display and not being used for the purpose they have been created for makes me shudder. What a waste of effort that the person who made these things used. I bet they are rolling in their graves right now.
But I alone cannot just use all of these babies by myself. I, of course, am humble purveyor of weaponry that sell these to people who are willing to pay the price. If they are worthy enough and I know that they will use these weapons for their purposeful intent, I shall gratefully give it them.
Sometimes I get into a good fight and I love it. The sound of steel hitting each other is just bliss. But they are no good compared to me, and their weapon is mine for the taking.
The Dawn Seeker has been in my sights for a while. This pirate infested ship is perfect for my plans ahead. They take me on an adventure, and I get some ancient weapons that have been lost in time. Of course they are going to let me in. I got plenty of weaponry to supply. Heck, I will offer my weapons for free. I know that they are going to use these weapons well, and I would love to see them in action. Ah, blood stained steel is just too perfect. The Dawn Seeker is just too perfect as well.
My twin blades rattle with glee that they will also soon see adventure. Gungnir and Fenrir have always had the spirit of adventure. They always wanted me to set free their brothers from the hands of the unworthy. Some people think I'm crazy, maybe I am. But I guess they can see why if I talk to weapons themselves. Aside from that, it's a win-win-win situation if I'm aboard. I'm also keen on visiting that place of legend. The underground ruins of a citadel long lost ago. I heard there are some weapons from a legendary blacksmith that are buried under all the rubble. I'm sure that these pirates would like that there are some great, valuable treasure hidden inside as well. Hah, what am I saying? These legendary weapons are the true treasure!
Skills:
Melee Weapon Proficiency. I can use any melee weapon well.
Dual Blade Mastery. I just love dual wielding swords. Mostly with Gugnir and Fenrir.
Barter. A man must get a good price if he's a merchant, no?
Street Smarts. I wouldn't be alive without it.
Equipment:
Gungnir and Fenrir. Enchanted twin swords that can make Irwin more fleet-footed.
Hidden knives on boots and sleeves. Never know when you're caught off guard.
Sign In
Create Account
Back to top
