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About Davion_Jaill

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  1. How much for a sword?

  2. How much for a sword? [R]

    There is a rhythm in all things, peace turns to war, safety turns to fear, friends turn to enemies, lords and kings come and go. A time of uncertainty and war has fallen on the land. The strong do what they want, and the weak suffer what they must. Sweat beaded and ran down his brow as large as pebbled. He couldn't stop his heart pounding or his legs shaking. His hand was clamped over his mouth for fear they would hear his rapid breath. Even though his heart beat pounded in his ears, he could hear everything clearly, even the smallest things. The horses snuffled and shuffled their feet in the lush grass of summer. Leather creaked when one rider shifted in the saddle. Metal clinked against metal. Rossi jumped and almost let out a yelp when one of the riders spoke up. "What do you think?" A male human voice said. "I'd guess two months before harvest time." A female elf voice answered. "Not worth it yet." The first voice answered. "Unless we want moldy blankets and barrels of flat beer." He let out a half laugh. "We hit this place last year anyhow, I doubt they have much else left." Said a lizardman voice. "Lets not waste our time here, we will be back in three months and take all they got." Said strong human voice. "We will hit that village down the river, I want fish anyhow." The band of horseman turned and headed back over the crest of the hill from which they were viewing the tiny village. Rossi waited until he no longer heard them before scrambling up out of the patch of think thorns and vines that had concealed him. He gave one frightened look in the direction the horsemen departed in, and ran down the him as fast as his old legs would carry him ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Someone were crying, most were silent. They all knew what was at stake. Loosing one harvest was a disaster, loosing two in a row was a death sentence. Most of the village was gathered in the dusty common land at the center of town. Some shouted, some cried, some sat silently. Every so often someone would shout a suggestion, then get shouted down by dissenters. "We should give in! Beg to keep enough to live off of!" - "They would take everything just to spite us!' "We should contact the lord!" - "He would do nothing! Just like last time!" "We should just kill ourselves! Then the lord might notice!" Everyone fell silent at that suggestion. Ranunt, one of the more weathly farmers, spoke up at last. "We should as the Old Man." Everyone silently agreed, and shuffled after Ranunt, toward the old, creaky mill at the edge of town. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Not everyone would fit inside the mill house, most crowded out front, peering through windows. Ranunt and Rossi sat on the rushes silently. Everyone was silent and tense. They had told everything they knew, telling every detail they knew or imagined. The Old Man just sat, sunken old eyes looking down, deep in thought. "We must contact the lord." Said Ranunt. "We must give them what they want." Said Rossi. "We must fight!" Shouted a younger villager pushing into the room. It was a younger elf, Turas, his eyes burning. The Old Man did not respond or even seem to react. Everyone held their breath. Finally, as quiet as a whisper, the Old Man spoke: "When I was a young man, I saw many villages burnt and destroyed. I once found one that was intact." "What did they do?" Rossi interjected. "They hired fighters." The Old Man answered slowly. "But how, we have no money, only grain," The Old Man smirked "Well then hire hungry soldiers." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ After some deliberation, it had been decided that Ranunt and Rossi would go to look for soldiers. Turas had insisted to come along too, and they did not turn him away. They set out the next morning with meager rations, old woolen cloaks and walking sticks. A bedraggled last hope for the village. The had walked for two days before making it to the nearest town, Cooper's Crossing, the nearest ferry and the only thing considered a town for leagues in any direction. Even so it was a bustling place for the small town farmers, and full of traps set for easy marks. Luckily their lack of valuable got them out of most scrapes but soon left them with little food, and had robbed them of the few copper coins they had gathered in the village. Every time they had approach a person bearing arms, they had been laughed away. No one was willing to risk their necks for a meal or two a day. Time wore on and they seemed to get no where. Their hope failing, they sat in the corner of the public house they stayed in. "Maybe we should return home." Rossi said. "At least we can starve in our own homes." "Don't think that way." Turas snapped. "We must succeed." "We certainly must." Ranunt said staring at the dirt floor. "I just hope we find at least one soldier willing to help us soon."
  3. How much for a sword?

    I will get it started soon. Bit busy: I just started online grad school.
  4. How much for a sword?

  5. How much for a sword?

    I was thinking we all develop the background and flavor of it as we go. So throw whatever in and see how it develops.
  6. How much for a sword?

    Feel free to have multiple characters, either to start with or as it the RP progress. Introduce characters and needed, kill them off as needed. I was planning on two characters. Anyone have a rating preference? I was thinking R just to be safe. Name: Race: Gender: Appearance: Background: Whatever else: Mercenary: Name: Stuart Davion Race: Human Gender: Male Appearance: A human of average height, pale skin, red hair chopped short. His clothing is travel-worn but mended and well fitted. He travels on foot, carrying a canvas bag, a dark green wool cloak with separate hood, faded blue tunic, leather boots, and wool trousers. He carries a bastard sword, and knife. Background: Served as a foot soldier and engineer on a few smaller campaigns. Participated in two sieges in his time, no home to speak of. One day hopes to have a safe and secure home far from the constant warring (at least the worst of it), maybe own land. Whatever else: nothing at the moment.
  7. How much for a sword?

    Small village is the main setting, but there is a moderate sized town a relatively short distance away.
  8. How much for a sword?

    I want to develop the backstory as we go. You are free to develop species or cultures as you see fit. The basic area is the small town in the corner of a kingdom, relatively isolated. The town is under the control of a distant lord who most stays at the capital and rarely even bothers to collect taxes from his holdings. The town is largely self-sufficient and relies on an informal democracy (gathering together and shouting at each other) to get things done. A village sheriff is responsible for settling disputes or investigating crimes. The village also looks to the eldest member for advice in troubling times. There is a town a day away by foot, maybe half a day by a small boat or mounted. The town is a small cluster of buildings gathered into a small valley. The valley narrows on the east side of the town into canyon through which the stream flows. The stream meanders through the valley towards the sea, many miles to the west. The ground is generally flat and is surrounded by heavily wooded hills on three sides, wit more gently rolling hills to the west, covered in thick brush and a few trees. The land closer to the stream is marshy, but the rest of the flat lands are arable and under cultivation. The weather is rainy in the summer and snowy in the winter, but the stream never freezes. It is a constant struggle against the conditions to grow sufficient crops to survive. The inhabitants are a mixture of local races. The town is about 2/5 humans who mostly farm or log, 1/5 is lizard men who cluster close to the stream in a complex of mud houses and fish for a living, 1/5 elves who also farm or hunt, 1/5 other races who have wandered in. The town is maybe 100 souls, mostly living roughly in family or clan groups. Each family group lives in a series of tightly packed homes, each complex separated by narrow alleys. Some individual live in the area, mostly displaced from recent strife in the wider world who settle in this secluded valley. The inhabitants mostly ignore the inter-species conflicts of the wider world in favor of simple inter-personal conflicts (stealing, gossiping, jealousy, bar fights over nothing, etc). Murder is rare, petty theft is uncommon. Land disputes or complaints over noises or smells in the tight packed quarters serve as the main topic at village meetings or court sessions.
  9. How much for a sword?

    A small village is under threat by a group of bandits, they extort, kidnap, rape and steal. Tired of the continuous harassment they seek outside help to save them, but without treasure of any kind what sort of mercenary can they hire? Hungry ones! I am interested in a low-fantasy medieval RP: less magic, more grumbling. Develop down-on-your-luck mercenaries or down-trodden villagers. Whatever might fit into the story. I think 4 participants would be ideal. I'll release some more background stuff once I think it up.
  10. It has been a while.

    Thanks but I'll do it this way. I haven't written creatively in a while.
  11. It has been a while.

    Yeah I was, but I'll go through the process again.
  12. It has been a while.

    Dinosaurs at the battle of Hastings sounds like a cool RP. Anyone down?
  13. It has been a while.

    I had a different account, but I lost the email account associated with it. My old username was Winter. I remember you Hastings.
  14. It has been a while.

    I used to have account here. Things dried up and I lost touch. Back now. I'm an engineer, scifi addict, medieval enthusiast, and I love jeeps.