Post by kain17335 on Jan 4, 2014 19:43:22 GMT -6
High Lagoon, a blizzard covered city that has been known to be a 'haven' to any and all who come here. Within this city a man walked along an icey pavement
towards a large manorhouse seemingly cobbled together from large rocks that were docorated with two large banners on either side of the doorway. The
decoration was an embroidered mountain, old and tattered after being left in the cold wind for so long. Not that anyone noticed, the sun rarely shone
upon this city.
Once the man had entered the house he quickly made his way to a small office. A large wood fire burned to his left and his superior sat in front of him.
Behind his desk.
"Captain." The man stood to attention, his heels clicking together as he spoke. "We've found more wolves, 7 this week."
The Captain looked up from his dusty, muddled desk. The man was old, too old to still be in the military service, yet here he was.
"Ahh, Grinkov. This is good, more supplies from below have come also. They are asking for our aid." the old Captain said, passing the man a
letter with a broken wax seal. "War begins down there, they call to us thinking we care."
For a moment the Grinkov scanned the letter, many of the fractal cities had been in small skirmishes for resources. But now, others were preparing for
war, alliances being forged, assassinations being orchestrated. Even some of the smaller cities had now been overrun by their lower class slaves.
Forming a faction within themselves.
"Then we shall enduere, sir." Grinkov said, placing the letter back down on the desk. "Let them kill each other." With that the man bowed, spinned on his
heel and left the room. Of course, he had better things to do than worry about what happened below. Nothing that happened there would ever effect him,
could it?
Welcome to Brass and Iron. The Steam Punk RP for you people, yes you, in the back, with the nice jacket. Even you. Now, without spoiling anything there
are a few things you will need to know about making your characters. Your class means everything, and I don't mean if your anything from a scavenger
to a doctor. Your class is quite literally your surname. You have 4 choices for you class, Italian and French are both the same, both being either farm owners
or cooks. The next is Russian and German. Russian's are usually more militaristic while German's are the engineers and inventors. But the two coincide.
There is a fifth option, which I leave open for anyone wishing to have a secondary character. That is an English surname. To have one is to be branded as
a lowlife and barely of any use to the world. These make up the slaves and the poverty stricken masses of the world. Most in that section of society may
not even have a surname because almost all concept of individuality is thrown out the door from birth. Yes, for the first time ever, to be English is to
be a slave.
Now, before you think you can make yourself as an Elite Captain of the royal guard, stop. That's not happening, in this you start at the bottom and have to
Prove yourself in your occupation to gain anything. In High Lagoon, strength means everything. If you do not have it, you will die, either from the cold or
through your own stupidity.
Here is how your character sheet should be set out
Name: (just first name)
Class: (surname)
Age: (You know, the amount of time you've been alive since you were born? That.)
Occupation: (Soldier, scientist, farmer, ect)
Description: (what you look like, no pictures.)
towards a large manorhouse seemingly cobbled together from large rocks that were docorated with two large banners on either side of the doorway. The
decoration was an embroidered mountain, old and tattered after being left in the cold wind for so long. Not that anyone noticed, the sun rarely shone
upon this city.
Once the man had entered the house he quickly made his way to a small office. A large wood fire burned to his left and his superior sat in front of him.
Behind his desk.
"Captain." The man stood to attention, his heels clicking together as he spoke. "We've found more wolves, 7 this week."
The Captain looked up from his dusty, muddled desk. The man was old, too old to still be in the military service, yet here he was.
"Ahh, Grinkov. This is good, more supplies from below have come also. They are asking for our aid." the old Captain said, passing the man a
letter with a broken wax seal. "War begins down there, they call to us thinking we care."
For a moment the Grinkov scanned the letter, many of the fractal cities had been in small skirmishes for resources. But now, others were preparing for
war, alliances being forged, assassinations being orchestrated. Even some of the smaller cities had now been overrun by their lower class slaves.
Forming a faction within themselves.
"Then we shall enduere, sir." Grinkov said, placing the letter back down on the desk. "Let them kill each other." With that the man bowed, spinned on his
heel and left the room. Of course, he had better things to do than worry about what happened below. Nothing that happened there would ever effect him,
could it?
Welcome to Brass and Iron. The Steam Punk RP for you people, yes you, in the back, with the nice jacket. Even you. Now, without spoiling anything there
are a few things you will need to know about making your characters. Your class means everything, and I don't mean if your anything from a scavenger
to a doctor. Your class is quite literally your surname. You have 4 choices for you class, Italian and French are both the same, both being either farm owners
or cooks. The next is Russian and German. Russian's are usually more militaristic while German's are the engineers and inventors. But the two coincide.
There is a fifth option, which I leave open for anyone wishing to have a secondary character. That is an English surname. To have one is to be branded as
a lowlife and barely of any use to the world. These make up the slaves and the poverty stricken masses of the world. Most in that section of society may
not even have a surname because almost all concept of individuality is thrown out the door from birth. Yes, for the first time ever, to be English is to
be a slave.
Now, before you think you can make yourself as an Elite Captain of the royal guard, stop. That's not happening, in this you start at the bottom and have to
Prove yourself in your occupation to gain anything. In High Lagoon, strength means everything. If you do not have it, you will die, either from the cold or
through your own stupidity.
Here is how your character sheet should be set out
Name: (just first name)
Class: (surname)
Age: (You know, the amount of time you've been alive since you were born? That.)
Occupation: (Soldier, scientist, farmer, ect)
Description: (what you look like, no pictures.)