# Thirst for Vengeance: A dark elf roleplay



## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

The Bloodied Palace, a black ark, an ancient cleft of Nagarythe that floats upon the high seas, the home of the House of Karkarin. A new house that has risen to glory under the banner of Khaine. Lead by the hag queen Carielle, her husband dead in battle with the elves of Ulthuan almost a half century ago, her children roam the high seas as marauders, their raiding bringing wealth to a house that has risen so far so quickly. It is with the eldest son of this great house that our tale begins. Salza Karkarin, tall and slender, eyes of flint above a hawkish nose set in a face twisted with malice, his swordarm known for its speed and deadly accuracy. The terror of Brianne, the elf the remnants of several tribes of beastman call the soulless horror. 

On the day our tale starts he lead a raid upon the lands of the bretonni, plentiful lands, slaves aplenty amongst the peasantry and bloody slaughter amongst the nobility. They desecrated and destroyed as they went,, yet as they returned ,slave ships filled, the boats upon the high seas laid low with plunder, the rearguard found knights upon their tail. A small force of warriors entirely atop horseback, lead by a man whose eyes burned with a holy light, a golden chalice upon his shoulder, a great lance in his hand, as he stood atop a great white stallion. Caught unawares, their leader already stowed within his ship the elves arranged themselves, moving into defence yet the knights did not charge, something held them back, their heads lowered in a chanting prayer.

Bolts of the karkarin scattered off shields and off barded flank as the lances charged. 4 distinct units yet they were held together,shields raised, hooves pounding, lances lowering a great roar erupting from brettoni throats, torches glittering in the dying sun. Even as they elves readied for the charge, crossbows slung across backs, spears and shields raising the horsemen broke turning sharply to run along the lines, mere meters from the spears. Chaos reigned in once ordered lines, the shouts of the disrupted by the sudden tremendous bark of horns and the roars erupting from brettoni throats mere meters away.

Some squads held some retreated, some advanced and the brettoni pounced slamming into the sides of exposed units, bodies pierced upon lances, corpses trampled under foot. As one they broke the line they made for the ships still beached upon the shore torches hissed and sputtered as they flung them aboard the wooden hulls,flames springing into life even as the knights wheeled, frightened and shattered units caught as they tried to face the menace. Upon his own ship, the great flagship, Midnight clad, Salza raged, his warriors useless even as the great lumbering boat turned and began to surge back to shore.

Bloodied blades in hand, fresh lances appearing under their arms the brettonni readied themselves once more for the new arrivals, ropes were tossed from the sides a great ramp thrust down. The furious lord careered to the shore, mounted atop a mighty cold one, scales rippling with the flames of dying ships, his body guard thundering behind him they faced the knights the shattered bodies of their brethren between them

Archers and executioners formed up alongside him, amongst a unit of corsairs a woman with raven hair, the lithe contours of her body evident to the elements a great staff born in her left hand a gauntlet of spikes upon her right. Ayita Karkarin, twin sister to Elena Karkarin, two sorceresses that matched each other in seductive beauty and raw power. Across the field, one moved form the middle of her group, a woman clad in a clinging dress a staff of mighty oak clasped in her hand.c

They split, 4 to 4, leader to leader, sorceress to sorceress. The match held for a single second then the silence broke and battle commenced.

Well aimed bolts found weakspots in armour before lance found throats, hooves finding sternums, whilst hands found legs and bridles, knives finding eye suddenly exposed throats, swords sliding from sheaths to clash as battle was joined. At the center Salza met the knight with eyes aflame and lances shattered they turned to swords, their feet finding solid ground as the cold one slashed open the horses neck with a brutal claw only to receive a sword through the eye socket. Match for match they met eachother blow for blow, yet even as they fought and twirled a second battle had commenced.

Roots reached out to seize the sorceress at a flick of the damsels wrist yet they erupted in bright blue flame, which spurted to seer against a great shield of white light which dazzled blinding the dark eyes for a moment. The sorceress planted her staff calling the dark arts of nagarythe to her aid, the shield shattered great slashes appearing across the damsels body, a scream of horror twisting across her face as she toppled from her horse.

The beautiful face twised in delighted triumph before a blade rent her head from her shoulders and sent it tumbling to the ground. In the middle of the ground Salza roared in hatred even as his warriors began to fail, sheer strength pulling the bretonni through, and even as Salza blazed forward heart filled with rage, the Bretonnian knight, struck back hard and fast, his blade lithe and filled with restless energy. Through strength of will and martial prowess the knight pushed the enraged dark elf back to the foot of the ramp of his very ship finally a great swipe of his blade sent the sword spinning through the air and he thrust his own blade through the elf lord's chest.

"Know death Terror of Brianne, know that you were bested by a champion of the lady, you will haunt our shores no more."

As consciousness dwindled, blood spilling over white lips, Salza saw a second knight, the knight that had rent his sister, the anguish, oh the pain. They embraced hand upon shoulder, even as crimson viscera flooded from Salza's fading body.

"Father, we have gain house de Vala great hounour today"

His fading, the final thought as he slipped from consciousness

"Vengeance"
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The hag queens blood boiled, the family dishonoured, their ships wrecked, her daughter dead, her son upon a litter within his chambers, his body pail, sorceries and magiks keeping him from the grip of death. Throughout the palace in markets and in the barracks tongues were wagging, the house suddenly looking vulnerable, ripe for the taking. Her two remaining sons one without talent, one without the years to capatilize on his, yet vengeance was called for.

He screamed for it in his nightmares, the name "de Vala" whispered in awestruck tones. This was personal an affront to the houses honour.

Yet how, the raiding forces were spent, now more than ever the defence of the black ark vital.

"Time is not with us mother," the voice rippled through her mind and she turned to find Ayita, no a mere memory, a haunting shadow of the pair she had born from her womb. Elena stood before her, eyes ringed with deep black shadow

"I have exhausted my knowledge yet though his wounds heal it does not bind, elreth lord of the underworld has accepted my brother's soul, we cannot hold it from him much longer."

She swallowed arm reaching to touch her mothers arm

"You know what the lord of murder desires mother, you have been within your temple for days, blood clings to your form. What does he require?"

"The soul of de Vala, his blood scattered upon the alter of Khaine"

"Then we must..."

"With what little one, our forces are spent, our position upon this very ark weakened. The Karkarin must have vengeance yet we cannot have vengeance and defend what we have gained. If time was not an object then I would not be so worried. Yet we do not have time, their is a bounty on de Vala's head scattered upon the walls of Anlec, even now ships sail for brettonia, some stop to resupply in our very port."

The hag queen's eyes fell yet Elena's eyes lit up

"We must employ another, one that already seeks his head."

The hag queen rounded on her rage flooding her voice

"And sacrifice our pride and our honour, they have placed two of my children upon the alter of Khaine, this is personal Elena, I will...."

"sacrifice your son for your own foolish pride?"

The hag queens hand sent the young sorceress spinning to the ground yet she turned a hanf raising out the winds of magic swirling in her palm to find her mothers face streaked with blood stained tears, the pride filled voice suddenly defeated by grief

"They say Cerak Kinslayer lingers upon our shores, his family are strong with the old blood, yet their coffers are empty, the ship he bears a great and ancient vessel, yet they say it sits high in the water. He will need the bounty. Seek him out Elena, save my son."
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Her palms sweated as she looked upon the great warrior born before her, handsome features seemingly chiselled from granite

"It is agreed then, Kinslayer. You will raise the banner of the Karkarin on your ship, in return you shall gain, supplies for free and all the men willing to fight that we can spare from our defence. When de vala is dead, i will gain possession of his corpse par the head which you will retain for the bounty"

No words passed the kinslayers lips yet upon the shore before the great warship, Murderous Collossus, they shook hands, sorcerous energy lancing out to bind their wrists.

"One final condition Kinslayer"

The warrior turned back eyes narrowing

"I'm coming with you"

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Firstly my thanks to reavan for his help and encouragement.

Secondly this rp will begin with you already upon the ship. Upon the verge of arriving upon the shores of brettonia after 5 days at sea

Rules:

1) Don't be a tool. No godmodding and respect your fellow rp'ers, if you want to punch their character in the face, if you have a good reason that's cool with me but make sure its ok with them first. Generally with most enemies I'll give you an indicator of what you can kill off update and if your confused just ask, i'm usually around in some form to answer pm or on msn, check the contact sheet your free to add me.

2) I love description, a well written post if what I'm looking for, if your willing to put time and effort into your posts I'm more than willing to give you the time you need.

3) I'm looking to update weekly: Probably on a monday morning but i'll stretch to every fortnight as i know people, including me, struggle with real life. Just tell me if you cant post, 5 mins max, all you need to write is rl sucks will try post by ------

4) If i say no unfortunately i mean no, but if you have a cool idea pm it through to me and if i can incorporate it into the story I damn well will

5) Funzies: have fun, i'll be doing my best to make it as enjoyable as possible. I hope i succeed.

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I'm looking for between 4 and 9 cold one knight charactors. I think ill be lucky to reach the lower limit with how rp's have been recruiting lately 

Please note. I will not be taking any assassin charactors or assassin background however if i adjudge the story needs it I may ask one of you how you feel about being an assassin. Essentially as they hide in units, nobody would know if you were or weren't as they are perfectly capable of acting as a normal cold one knight. However who i ask and if i ask will be at my discretion.

Though your rank will be cold one knight, you will be initiated upon the ship as corsiars, simply for it is the kinslayer's vessel with a limited supply of cold ones. That high honour has not been granted too you yet.

Character sheet

Name:
Age: Under 150 please, I'm looking for young warriors still finding their feet but some of you will have a fair few battles and raids under your feet
Appearance:
Personality:
Weaponry: heavy armour shield, lance, sword and though that wouldn't be yours I'm saying that as corsairs for now your lances are stored and you have been granted a repeater crossbow in its place. Obviously i've told you what you've got but the details of the style and the appearance is completely yours.
Equipment: I'm willing to accept a mundane talisman or any other equipment
Speciality: i like characters to have a speciality something that defines them 

Ambitions:In the context of the above speciality i'd like to know where your charactors goals lie. For example i want an ambition that somehow relates to your speciality like tactical brilliance longs to lead a raiding force of his own. Are you a great swordsman do you long to join the executioners or the black guard? That's the sort of thing I'm talking about.

Background: now this needs to include a little bit of past history, who you are where you came from and also importantly how you ended up on this ship. Were you a warrior of house karkarin sent upon this mission, were you one of those upon the ships already at sea that returned to find your lord and lady cut down? Are you warriors sworn to the kinslayer or have you joined from another ship perhaps even with the same mission?

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Thats the lot. Really hope to see some responses to this as I'm already so very enthused about the story rattling round my brain  Any questions pm me.

Thanks for reading the novel


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## komanko (May 16, 2010)

Might join, unsure. One thing though, I think you confused your title  brettonia doesnt exist in 40k XD (You said Dark Eldar RP)


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

not impressed with myself
edited that first post about 5 times never looked at the title

posted to reever to get it changed
if you do join i'd be delighted to have you in the rp komanko.


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## Rems (Jun 20, 2011)

I'm game, being encouraged to be a right git is a rare treat (we're dark elves, we're gits by definition). Also it's nice to see a wfb rpg. 

Will post up a character later.


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## Lord Ramo (Apr 12, 2009)

You know what I'm going to say Deathbringer.... Will get a character up in a bit, love your roleplays.


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## revan4559 (Aug 9, 2010)

You already know ill be joining and who ill be joining with so ill get the character pmed to you first of all before posting unless you get on msn sometime today and ill work it out with you over that. Razyel shall be resurrected as a Dark Elf!


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## Santaire (Feb 13, 2011)

I'm in if you'll have me


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

so thats 5, as jackinator pm'ed me a charactor sheet that were just editting

so of the 9 i have five players so if all the below post charactor sheets this will definitely go ahead
1 rems
2 ramo
3 jackinator
4 reavan 
5 santaire
6
7
8
9

I will edit this list when charactor sheets are updated

I would love to fill the whole 9 so i do hope their is a little more interest and the novel/ title error isn't keeping people away.

i must admit i was hesitant about posting this rp as i know fantasy is not the best known subject and alot of people are currently filled up with regards to rps

Lets see those charactor sheets/ interest people


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## hauk119 (Oct 10, 2011)

I will try to sort this out.
So, we are playing as Dark Elves trying to kill some guy who killed some other people, and theirs this jerk of a person who didnt want to sacrifice pride or something, everyone died and now we are killing other people.
Yes that is very basic... But whatever. If thats pretty much it i am willing to join, as long as someone explains exactly what RP means, and what joining entails... lol. but yeah, sounds interesting I just wish I knew what it is.
DE for the win


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## revan4559 (Aug 9, 2010)

Note: All approved by the Deathbringer over msn.

Name: Razyel Karkarin

Age: 90 Years Old

Appearance: Razyel is tall and slender with his shoulders, arms and abdomen slightly more muscled than the rest of his body thanks to years upon years of training. Unlike the rest of his family Razyel prefers to keep his hair cut reasonably short so that it just falls slightly lower than the back of his head though the front of his raven black hair is cut shorter so that it does not get in the way of his vison save for two thick locks of hair that run inbetween his eyes and curl just under his eyes. With flawless pale skin almost that of pure snow white the only things that mark his perfectly pale skin are the two pure black lines that run like tear marks from each of his eyes which he had tattoo'ed there when he was younger. Those that stare at Razyel's face seem to have their gaze drawn to his dark green eyes and find it almost unnerving to hold his gaze for long should he decide to meet the gaze of those looking at him, in short Razyel is almost achingly handsome and and has features that perfectly suit him. (his facial appearance and hair is like ulquiorra: http://static.desktopnexus.com/thumbnails/558083-bigthumbnail.jpg

Personality: Razyel is very calm and quiet for a dark elf as he prefers to sit back and anaylze a situation before stepping in, even during the few real battles and minor skirmishes he has been in he never loses his temper or shouts praises to the elven gods. Razyel is very confident in his abilities as a swordsman to the point where his confidence borders on arrogance, yet for all his quiet and calm exterior Razyel hides his jealousy and hatred for his older brothers as they have always been given more than him every since he was young, this means that he will often stay as far away from his two brothers as much as possible when the family gathers and during social occassions. The most major thing about Razyel is the fact he is unable to cry no matter how sad or happy he is or how much pain you put him through and this is most likely the reason why he had tear streaks tattoo'ed from under his eyes all the way down to his jaw line. To Razyel those of a lesser station or standing are tools which can always prove useful should he need them, some are tools that are ready for him to use right then and there, others are tools to be used over a longer period of time, and there are those 'tools' who need to be moulded carefully over time to suit a purpose, to Razyel everyone is a potentially tool or weapon he can use to gain higher ranking within dark elf society the only one who is unwilling to use is his own mother.


Weaponry + Armour: 

Razyel's Heavy armour: Razyel's armour was custom made for him when he was fifty years old as a gift from his mother. The armour itself is a rather form fitting suit for something that is classed as heavy armour but is very segmented to allow the best of protection and movement/flexibility in battle, for the most part the armour is obsidian in colour with parts of it such as the center of his breastplate and belt being a deep pruple colour. His shoulder-guards are different to the common style of dark-elf shoulder protection in that they stick directly out to the side instead of sloping down to cover parts of his biceps, and that each pauldron has a set of ridges along the edge closest to Razyel's head. The armours boots and gauntlets have been fashioned into the style of talons while being sharpened so that even unarmed Razyel's suit of armour gives him so form of offensive capability. (did my best to describe this suit of armour: http://fc00.deviantart.net/fs46/f/2009/187/4/f/Anima__Ophiel_the_fallen_Angel_by_Wen_M.jpg

Razyel's Shield: Razyel's shield is in the same style all dark elf warriors, lords and cold one knights use but instead of being a dark purple hue it is infact midnight blue with the symbol of the Karkarin emblazened in white on its center while in its top right corner is Razyel's own personal symbol of a purple dragon entwined around a blood red sword with its wings spread out to form the swords guard.

Razyel's Lance: Razyel's lance is well....a simple black iron lance that all Cold One knights use, to be honest he hates using it and will only use it up until the point where he is able to switch to using his sword.

Razyel's Sword: Razyel's sword is very simply in design being forged of black metal and in a completely straight blade instead of the usual curved blades of the dark elves with its guard being made from darkened silver. The length and hilt of the blade means that it is long enough and light enough to be used one-handed and still have enough strength behind it to cut through armour while at the same time the blade and tilt are long enough for Razyel to be able to discard his shield and take a two-handed grip upon the blade and once he does he sets about killing his foes in a similar manner and style to the Executioners, aiming for the heads and necks of his opponents yet while also exploiting any openings in their armour and defense.(similar in appearance to the warp sword of khaine Malus uses: http://images.wikia.com/warhammeronline/images/8/8c/Malus_Darkblade.jpg


Equipment: Other than his armour and weapons Razyel doesn't carry much else upon his person unless he can help it. Carrying only a pouch full of gold coins, a bag full of rations, his water flask the only other thing that he carries or wears about his person is a a dark purple cloak that he has attached to his armour that billows about his claw like feet.

Speciality: Razyel's specialty is that he is an excellent swordsman be it with one-handed swords, two-handed swords or even dual wielding two swords, rumor has it he has been taught several stances and movements that the executioners use.

Ambitions: Razyel's main ambition is to become the lord and commander of his own Black Ark be it through buying one already made, have one created or through killing his older brother and taking his, he wants to become the greatest of the lords that rule the floating cities. The next of his ambitions is to become the greatest swordsmen in all of Naggaroth so that he may become the champion of Malekith, Witch-King of all Dark elves. His third and final main ambition is to become one of the infamous Black Riders, those rulers who have been gifted a black dragon to serve as their mount from the Witch-King himself. While all of these ambitions are high and possibly will take hundreds of years to achieve Razyel is certain that in time he will have all three of his main goals in the palm of his hand and become one of the gratest Druchii there has ever been.

Background: The child that would eventually grow to become the elf known as Razyel Karkarin was born ninety years ago through the union of the Hag Queen Careille and one of the nameless Executioners of Hag Graef, because of this Razyel was born into a family with four siblings who only shared half of his bloodline and to a father who would hate him for the rest of his days. Being the youngest of five and not even the son of the one he called 'father' Razyel was given nothing by his adoptive parent and forced to pretty much fend for himself when he was old enough to walk and talk as by that point his mother had decided to leave him to his own devices, though while his 'father' hated him and his mother now mainly ignored him Razyel found relative safety with his older half-brother Yshi'ran and his older sister Elena though even at such a young age Razyel had already learnt to hate and despise Salza who constantly insulted him and beat him on several occasions to try and make his youngest brother cry.

When Razyel had just turned ten years old he received yet another beating from Salza but this one was different from all the others, there was much more malice, anger and hatred poured into this beating and it lasted for little over an hour which to Razyel was the longest beating he had ever recieved since Salza had starting beating him yet like all other times before Razyel didn't once cry our or shed tears of pain he simply endured until Salza had finally worn himself out but not before leaving an elongated scar running from the top of Rayzel's right shoulder to his lower left side and even to this day that scar has yet to fade, a constant reminder to watch his back. Shortly after this beating his mother decided it was time for Razyel to start learning how to fight and started to send him to be tutored along with the sons of several other nobles within the city, after the first month of training word was sent back to Careille that Razyel was naturally gifted with the way of the blade and was already at the top of his class but while his mother was amused his 'father' was less than pleased and devised a plan to shame Razyel infront of the entire household.

Waiting until Razyel returned after three months of lessons his father held a banquet in 'honour' of his youngest sons return and success and asked that Razyel show off what he had learnt against one of the sons of a noble household within the city. Little did Razyel know that his opponent was infact twice his age and much taller tham him, knowing that his adoptive father was trying to diminish him infront of everyone Razyel let all the anger, hatred and malice that had built up over the years fuel his fight against the older student and with relative ease Razyel triumpthed against the dark elf, severing his head from his shoulders with a single cut. Walking over to the head that now rolled across the great halls floor Razyel bent down and picked it up examing his handy work before throwing it onto his fathers lap and left the hall to spend some time alone training.

Sensing that their younger sibling was in danger Elena and Yshi'ran asked Careilla to send Razyel away to another city for his own good so that their father wouldn't be tempted to try and have their younger brother murdered at this point in time. Using her connections as a Hag Queen and a Bride of Khaine, Cariella had Razyel sent to Hag Graef, The City of Executioners where he would live and train with the favoured warriors of the God of Murder and War. Feeling as though his family had abandoned him to this Razyel through himself into his training as though there was nothing else for him to do save for waiting paitently and plotting the downfall of his adoptive father while he honed his skill with all kinds of blades. 

As his training progressed Razyel became more and more secluded from the rest of society and barely spoke to anyone unless he needed to finding that he prefered the company of the local Cold Ones rather than his kin, though the first few meetings with the Nauglir almost cost him his life as he was still unfamiliar with the creatures. Eventually Razyel found he had an affinity with the beasts and took it upon himself to try and raise one of the beasts from an egg to become his mount but while he formed a bound with the creature it would not last as eventually the Cold One was sold off to a noble family in one of the other cities for their eldest son to use and little did he know that his brother Salza would be the one his cold one had been given to.

After spending thirty years training amougst the executioners word reached Razyel's ears that his adoptive father had finally died though Razyel didn't care how or when he cared only that the elf was dead and he would return to his family to claim a portion of his adoptive fathers possessions. Bidding farwell to Hag Graef the city that had been his home for the past thirty years Razyel finally returned to the Black Ark which his family called home but in his absense his brother Salza had become more powerful politically and had much more wealth than Razyel did. So the first thing that Razyel did was ask his brother Yshi'ran to fund a raiding expedition to one of the far away lands filled with richings, though it took some pursauding on Razyel's part he finally got his brother to fund the expedition to Cathy. The first of his raids was a success as Razyel led his forces of Corsairs into the coastal towns of the Dragon Empire but while he didn't find the riches in gold he was hoping for he brought back many slaves to Lands of Chill but in exchange for the funding of his raiding expedition his brother got the larger portion of the gold that was earnt from the selling of the slaves though it was not the gold that Razyel enjoyed the most of his raiding but it was infact he now had the chance to test and hone his skills with the blade to perfection.

After another ten years of raiding the lands of Cathy and a few ventures into the land known as the Empire, Razyel finally decided to remain aboard the black ark to cement his place as one of its leaders and gain more influence over it. Razyel would continue to train himself in the arts of combat however as the scar across his back was a reminder to never let his guard down so he most be ready incase Salza ever tried to remove him from the family in any way so month by month and year by year Razyel clawed what influence he could to gain as much control of the Black Ark as he could but compared to the rest of his family it was still miniscule. It was during this time that Razyel gained his tear like tattoo's on his face after a strange encounter with a seeress of the Coven.

When he was eighty-four Razyel heard of a bounty on the head of a Grandmaster of the Empire and decided that he was going to claim it as the bounty had been set by the mother of the Witch-King himself, Morathi the first of the Sorceress's and the Brides of Khaine. Enlisting the help of his sister Elena Razyel set off towards the empire with those corsairs and warriors loyal to him that still remained alive after all the years of raiding that had taken place since he had last left the Ark but when word reached his ears that his older brother Salza was after the bounty aswell and while Elena finally thought her younger brothers anger would snap he simply took a deep breath and walked down into the Nauglir pens to be alone, where Razyel should of become filled with the burning fire of hatred it appears he became as cold as Naggaroth itself.

Upon reaching the Empire and making landfall the battle between his brothers forces and the Grandmasters forces had already begun so ordering his forces forward Razyel made his way straight towards the Grandmaster himself cutting down anyone who got in his way be they the humans of the empire or the forces of his brother, however when Razyel was so near his prize Salza engaged the Grandmaster in single combat forcing Razyel to deal with the Grandmasters guard though while the humans were nothing compared to Razyel's strength and skill they cost him valuable time and in those few minutes Salza slew the Empire Grandmaster and removed his head for all to see. 

This annoyed Razyel greatly and in the middle of the battle he challanged his brother to a duel to the death over the rights of the bounty and to his surprise Salza accepted and so the two brothers engaged in ritual combat while their forces still fought on against the humans around them. While Salza had age and expirence on his side Razyel had natural talent along with the training of the Executioners which meant that the brothers were evenly matched and finally during this battle Razyel finally got his revenge for the beating that scarred his back long ago.

Sidestepping a thrust made by his brother Razyel dropped his shield and gripped his blade in a two-handed grip and clove through the back of his brothers armour by the blade only bit deep enough to scar his brother just like he had and before Razyel could bring his blade down to behead his older brother and inturn Salza turn and impale Razyel their sisters both uttered dark syllabals and both were bound in place by spells, clearly neither of the sisters wanted their brothers to kill each other over such a trivial matter, after being forced to return to his ship Razyel and his forces set sail for home with nothing to show save a few meager slaves and what little cold they could find from the dead and dying. 

Upon returning to the Black Ark Razyel spent the next six years planning his biggest raid to date into the lands of the walking dead known as Khemri and after gathering his forces he set off in search of the many treasures buried in that cursed land while his brother set off for Brettonia but while he spent only several brutal and bloody months in the dead lands Razyel returned home with his holds over flowing with treasures but his forces severely depleted but while he returned victorious his brother did not. Hearing what happened to Salza, Razyel asked his mother to allow him to go and battle the knight that bested his oldest brother but Carielle would not allow it and ordered him to stay. Deciding that defeating whoever defeated his brother would earn him more glory when anything else in the near future Razyel ordered his first mate to spend all the time between now and when he returned recruiting and rebuilding the raiding forces, so shrouding himself in a cloak and hood Razyel managed to sneak onto one of the ships heading for Bretonnia and now all he has to do is wait.


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

it was a bit of a novel i admit

salza, first son of the karkarin, went to brettonia for shits and giggles
got a spanking by a grail knight (whose son also killed his sister, ayita).

This grail knight is already on the hit list of naggaroth by killing someone high up. salza gets carried home by the remnants of his forces crying for vengeance

however the karkarin have lost face in the eyes of this humiliating defeat, not to mention ships and resources, their position as a new house on the rise vulnerable, compounded by the loss of a sorceress and a son on his death bed.

The mother and leader of the family carielle desired to send the forces of the karkarin to kill this grail knight to preserve the families honour however that would risk compromising the defences of the black ark and to loose the black ark would be to loose everything.

Stuck between a rock and a hard place, especially as in order to heal salza, they need to sacrifice the grail knights blood to khaine, her daughter, elena, suggests melding with a force already after the grail knight on the condition that they fly under the banner of the karkarin. 

The warrior whose force they are melding with is called cerak Kinslayer. In the deal he gets the bounty and the gratitude and aid of the karkarin whilst the karkarin can maintain the defense of the ark and still appear to the world to be strong enough to put out a full strength force in the name of vengeance

Thus you are warriors of either the karkarin, the kinslayer or another ship/ family that reside upon the black ark or have merely put into port their, off to go seek the head of the grail knight and inflict vengeance upon his family.
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As for what an rp would entail, I'm not sure how indepth you need me to go. Create a charactor using the specifications at the bottom. If you want help pm me the sheet you come up with and i'll look at it happily.


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## Rems (Jun 20, 2011)

*Name*: Mynerith Kelathon Nargont’yr

*Age*: 120

*Sex:* Female

*Appearance*: Like all Druchii Mynerith is tall and slender, pale from the cold lands of Naggaroth. Like most of her kin to mortals she appears as a vision of cruel beauty, womanly perfection given form. To other druchii she is merely desirable. Dyed crimson hair of many shades cascades down over pointed ears and high angular cheekbones. Amber eyes, thickly kohled, gaze out a porcelain smooth face with tempting, delicate lips promising much. Angular tattoos, like harsh black flowers snake across her wrists; lower back, navel and neck. She moves with a dancer’s poise and grace, lethality and seduction combined. Mynerith’s beauty is only exceeded by her cruelty. 

*Personality*: Ambitious, driven, capable, cruel, dangerous. These are words one would use to describe Mynerith, first daughter of the dread lady Ves’libareth. Raised to redeem her house, Mynerith is a force on the battlefield and in the court room, she excels in the Druchii lifestyle. Her mind delights in slow intrigue as much as savage slaughter, each a step along the path to power. A honeyed word here, a poison dagger there, a depraved noble slept with then, an enemy dispatched in his own bedchamber now. No deed is too low, no action beneath her. She will do anything to further her goals, as she was raised to. Mynerith has been raised to believe that her body, her life is not her own. Her actions are a duty, ordained by necessity and the hopes of her House. Failure is not an option; life in continued disgrace is no life at all. 

*Weaponry*: Ordinarily arrayed in the full panoply of a Cold One Knight the Kinslayer’s supply deficiencies have necessitated a change. Her equipment stored in Kinslayer’s hold, Mynerith temporarily takes the role of a corsair, a new experience for her. Reapeater crossbow replaces lance. It is a weapon finely fashioned of dark ash and inlaid with polished human bone, light enough to be fired in one hand. She eschews the heavier full plate armour of her fellow knights, favouring speed and mobility. As such form fitting, black plates, chased in flowing red gold sigils, only armour the main sections of her limbs, (gauntlets, vambrace, spaulders, curiass, cuisses, greave, sabaton) leaving large swathes of dull, light chainmail the colour of dried blood. Her helm has a small hole in the back, at the nape of her neck, allowing her hair to fan down her back. Though she often prefers to go bareheaded, to drink in the carnage and sensations of war. In combat she often weights her hair with small hooks and blades, turning it into another weapon. Rather the typical sword and shield Mynerith uses a spear with a blade at each end called _Lifeseeker_. With superior elven reflexes she is able to use such a weapon effectively, constantly moving in battle. 

*Equipment*: Myrnth always carries various poison implements. A brace of knives are secreted about her person as is a vial of contact poison, delivered through a deadly kiss. As the eldest daughter of her houses’ ruling line it is her responsibility to carry a scrimshawed fingerbone of the later Lord Nargont’yr, who died on Ulthuan during the war that nearly destroyed their House. She also carries a long, jagged flaying knife, the size of a short sword. 

*Speciality*: Intrigue/Persausion. Mynerith can plot with the best of them. With the eventual goal of restoring her House it is vitally important that Mynerith was trained to manipulate, plot and forge allies while keeping her House safe from rival’s plots. In this she has been trained by her mother, to use her mind, speech and body as a weapon to accomplish what swords cannot alone.

Secondary Speciality: Agility. Mynerith's combat style is founded on constant motion. During battle she is always moving, spinning, kicking and slashing. With her elven reflexes and bladed spear she is able to engage many enemies at once, dancing through the ranks of the enemy, gifting death to those around her. Her whole body becomes a weapon as she delivers sweeping kicks and strikes, weaving around blades and flowing from form to form. Such a martial style necessitates her adoption of lighter armour and lack of a shield, thus rendering her more susceptible to damage. Indeed she lacks the toughness and strength of men, relying on speed and her weapon's reach. (OOC- done with gm's permission)

*Ambitions*: Not for Mynerith is the aspiration of a corsair fleet or membership of Makelith’s blackguards. No, Mynerith desires nothing less than the restoration of her House to its rightful place. She has had this duty, this overwhelming need drilled into her since she was old enough to walk. It is the goal of all members of House Nargont’yr, to throw off their bonds of (perceived) servitude and rise to their rightful station again. These things take time however; time, wealth and warriors. So Nargont’yr waits, building their strength, content to follow House Karskin and their bitch Hag Queen for now. 

*Background*: Mynerith is a daughter of House Nargont’yr, a once prestigious lineage fallen on hard times. An ancient line they can trace their lineage to the Sundering and the flight to Naragoryth. There House Nargont’yr continued to prosper, raiding the lands of the lesser races while fighting in the Witch King’s ceaseless wars against Ulthuan. Lesser Houeses tremlbed at the mere thought of crossing Nargont'yr. High in the Witch King's favour they could not only bring their own considerable forces to bear on their rivals but the support of their dread liege. House Nargont’yr were valued by Makelith for their completely loyalty, a rare and precious commodity in Naggaroth. They had originally owed their rise to power to him and had since supported their Lord, believing their fortunes to be entwined. It was this great loyalty which proved to be their downfall. In the second great war against Ulthuan, when Makelith called his people to war once again House Nargont’yr answered. They accrued much glory and many slaves in the war, though not without cost, many of their finest warriors lay dead. As the war took a too familiar turn for the worse casualties mounted, more and more of House Nargont’yr bonded warriors, and indeed members of their own bloodline falling on the fields of Ulthuan. Uneasy the masters of the House petitioned Makelith for withdrawal and recuperation. The dread king forbid such action, punished those emissaries sent severely. They had their tongues ripped out, never again would they utter such follies decreed Makelith. So House Nargont’yr fought on, more and more of its blood staining Ulthuan. 

Finally even Makelith was forced to admit defeat and withdrew his armies from his former home and rightful kingdom. House Nargont’yr, loyal ever still, were assigned as the rearguard to the fleets, their black arks and galleys swarming the seas. So it was that the elven fleet's counter attack fell upon House Nargont’yr, whose treacherous and jealous allies fled, leaving the House to stand alone. Barely one in ten survived that day, and less of the House’s wealth and infrastructure. House Nargont’yr was broken, cast aside by their king and now viewed as prey by the other houses. Quashing their pride the house pledged itself to the rising House Karkarin. A new house, one which Nargont’yr had no enmities or debts with, provided a fresh start for House Nargont’yr, a safe harbour for them to gather their strength. 

It stands to Mynerith to further her House’s cause as the oldest daughter of the House matriarch, the dread lady Ves’libareth. It rest with Mynerith as House Nargont’yr has no male issue, indeed no males have been born to the house since their fall. It is yet another disgrace, grudgingly suffered, that they must bring in males of other lines to seed their own. As such Mynerith has been trained in the arts of war, learning of strategy and tactics while honing her body with the blade. Rejecting the pleasures of the flesh she bonded with a cold one, the secretions of the reptilian beast numbing her skin to match her cold heart. 

To date Mynerith has found and stopped 23 different plots and conspiracies against House Nargont’yr, 13 of which; the most difficult, were tests from her mother. One even came a hairsbreadth away from ending her own life. A lover of hers, a young elf named Karlord, was in secret an agent sent to infiltrate House Nargont’yr with the eventual goal of assassinating Mynerith and her mother. Ves’libareth was in no true danger, being the concocter of the plot as a test for her daughter. Karlord in grated himself with the young Mynerith, herself only 80 at the time. Foolishly and viably she learned to trust the bold young warrior taking him as a lover and allowing him unfettered access to her chambers. There she would have perished had not Karlord become soft and fallen in love with the young elf. Unable to kill her he confessed to her. Hurt by his betrayal and angry at herself for being so foolish Mynerith had him flayed alive and resolved to never allow herself to become close, emotionally involved, to another. It was partly in reaction to this that she took up the mantle of a Cold One Rider, her body numbing blissfully. 

With her tutelage in statecraft progressing well Mynerith was sent out on a number of raiding parties, to gain a feel for combat and command. Raiding along the coast of the human Empire she captured many slaves and made sport of their primitive people. Her excursions with the corsairs awoke a bloodlust in the young noble and soon she was eager for war and battle. Now she finds herself bound to Bretonnia with the kinslayer; her house oathed to service and sending it’s warriors. It brings House Nargont’yr, and Mynerith herself, cruel joy to see Karskin suffer similar blows to their own. The loss of one of their precious daughters and crippling of their favoured son only reaffirms to Nargont’yr their need to once again surpass such pathetic Houses as Karskin.


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## High_Seraph (Aug 28, 2009)

May get a character up tomorrow as all your rp's have been exemplar. Don't know about it just yet though.


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## revan4559 (Aug 9, 2010)

Come on you lot, get your character sheets posted so this rp can start! it will be epic!


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## Santaire (Feb 13, 2011)

Got most of it done. Just have to do the equipment and history and then it will be up


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

reavan, perfect most definitely accepted
rems love it, the persuasion is lovely, i love the concept of her and will try and ensure she has opportunity to use her gift. If however you want to pm me a smaller and less deadly second more combat orientated speciality we can work it in, as i most admit a large amount of this rp will be combatative due to the nature of the mission.

ramo and jackinator
i'm looking over charactor sheets pm'd to me now

high seraph would love to have you if your up for it
we have 5 charactors and 2 maybes which the world being kind bring us up to 7 and make me rather happy.

Any others dwindling on the threshold love to see what you've got


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## dark angel (Jun 11, 2008)

I may be interested. Life's being a cunt at the moment, though - So time and whatnot is somewhat of a problem, I'll read up on the Dark Elf background, they're not really my thing, but still.


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

hmmmmmm...... To join another? Of course. I will get working on a sheet today Deathy.


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

you would both be extremely welcome additions and bring us up to the full quota of 9 assuming 2 out of our possibles high seraph, komanko ( who i understand is highly doubtful) and hauk post up charactors

da on the time factor, i completely understand where your coming from on that score. If you do have the time hit up a charactor or pm me and we can always work out a way to fit you in if you feel good with dark elves

With regards to dark elves, i chose them over bretts for the more sinister aspect and also to try something new, from alrik and various other charactors i can most definitely see you fitting in with a dark elf mentality


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## dark angel (Jun 11, 2008)

My Father's home now, and on the mend, so - Fuck it, I will join - I'll give the Dark Elves Armybook a read through, find some inspiration for a character, and work on a sheet. It definately won't be up today, I'm off out at five, which isn't sufficient time for me to work on a character. 

I'd be breaking a trend, if I didn't join, anyway. I do believe that it would be a first.


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## Lord Ramo (Apr 12, 2009)

My finished character will be sent to you tonight Deathbringer, had some issues I have had to sought out.


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

Here is my guy, let me know what you think.

First off I want to give a shout out to apidude for letting me use the fluff from his Dark Elf house to flesh out my character.
Name: Laneran T'Calt

Age: 85
Appearance: Laneran is tall but unlike most of the Dark Elf race he is heavily muscled and could even be called imposing by their standard. His skin is light colored as most of his race is, but it has a weathered appearance from many years as a corsair at sea. His face is sharp and angular as most of the T'Calts, with high cheekbones and piercing slate grey eyes that appear to look right into one. His dark hair, he wears in a long braid down his back enclosed every several inches in bands of silver. Each band bears the coat of arms of House Raca Sceadu inlaid with sea green tourmaline. Laneran moves with a fighters grace, but with an air of superior confidence found in one completely comfortable with their combat prowess. 

Peronality: Bloodthirsty, cruel, stubborn, intelligent, and deceitful, Laneran emodies the very core of Dark Elf values. He values the lives of those outside his house about as much as an ant crushed beneath the heel of his heavy boots. He is a killer without mercy or conscience. That being said he is absolutely loyal to House Sceadu and most importantly its current Lord, Marek T'Calt. A brilliant tactician and stoic warrior, he gives ground in a fight only at heavy costs to the enemy, and he absolutely refuses to relent in the pursuit and persecution of enemies of his house and their allies. He will use whatever advantage that he possess to further the goals and ambitions of his house, but is unafraid to meet challenges head on with brute force. He will kill, torture, and maim any who stand in his way. He, like all Druuchi, is ambitious, but those ambitions do not see him at the head of the house. He wants nothing more than to make war on the enemies of House Sceadu, and the more power and influence he amasses makes that goal all the easier. 

Weaponry: Heavily armored from neck to toe in carefully overlapped segmented armor (looks like this without the helm:http://images.elfwood.com/art/x/a/xadhoom/sortelver.jpg), painted in the blood red and black colors of House Sceadu. Laneran can shrug off most blows yet its design allows for flexibility and mobility. In addition the gauntlets of the armor bear three, long razor sharp blades that Laneran uses in his preferred close quarters unarmed combat. His helm is completely visored, with small slits for eyes, but most often he opts not to wear it preferring the unrestricted view that the lack of the helm provides. In battle he wields the lance and shield of a cold one knight, though after the charge his shield is largely forgotten in favor of the large two handed sword, that he wears strapped to his back, that he forged himself. The blade is pure black, edged in red tinged steel, and is tapered to a needle point. In his powerful hands this blade has been seen to cleave a man nearly in half. However his favored weapons are a pair of long cruved knives, that he uses to great effect in combination with the blades on his gauntlets. For the moment he bears the repeater cross-bow of a Corsair, a weapon that he is intimately familiar with.
Equipment: Aside from the weapons listed above, Laneran carries bandolier that contains 5 perfectly balanced throwing knives, and a small medkit that he uses to patch himself up.

Speciality: Close quarters knife fighter and unarmed specialist. Having grown up amongst the Shades of Mount Tabor, Laneran was taught from early on in his life the art of close quarters combat. He excels at unarmed combat, using his heavily muscled frame as a weapon in its own right. Well versed in contol holds, throws, kicks, and punches by the time he was in his early teens, Laneran was hard pressed to be beaten in an unarmed fight. From there he expanded his skill set to knife play, integrating bladed guantlets and long knives into his repretoire of deadly arts. Though he is skilled with a blade in general respects, he is unmatched in the art of the close quarter kill, and revels in his enemies blood running down over his hands. 

Background: Born to Kethra T'Calt, grandmother to the current Lord of House Sceadu, and Jeron Mal'Tanar a Shade of Mount Tabor, Laneran is uncle to Marek T'Calt. Shortly after his mother, Kethra, fled the purge of the T'Calt house by her sister-in-law Gythra T'Calt, she gave birth to Mordrec who would someday father the current lord of House Sceadu, Marek. When Mordec was around the age of 8, Kethra started an affair with a leader of the local Shades and from that union beget Laneran. Fearing that his son would be enbroiled into the cutthroat house politics of the T'Calt family, Jeron fled with his new born son, raising him in the wilds of Mount Tabor, teaching him in the ways of combat, military doctrine, strategy, and tactics. 

For close to 15 years Jeron and his son Laneran, lived a solitary existence, far from the political reach of House Sceadu and during that time Laneran grew into a giant of a dark elf. Heavily muscled from his life of survival, cunning from his years of training, Laneran reentered society in Mount Tabor after Jeron was killed by a mountain lion. He made contact with his mother, Kethra who finished his instruction in the history of his lineage, the ins and outs of court politics, and the masterful art of deception and treachery. It was then that he learned of Mordec's, his older brother, plot to over throw Faolain T'Calt, to seize power over house Sceadu. After 5 more years living and learning from his mother, Laneran made his way back to Naggaroth, and signed on with a crew of Corsairs. 

He spent over 15 years as a corsair, honing his skills in battle, raiding and pillaging the lands of men, and by the end of that time found himself the captain of his own ship. Over the next decade he would become one of the most successful independant corsair captains on the high seas, his coffers full of wealth from slave trade and raiding. However his life at sea left him wanting more, desiring to serve a higher calling. It was at this time that he made contact with his eldest brother who was now Lord and master of House Sceadu. In an arrangement with Mordec, Laneran left his crew, with orders that they follow his first mate and fly under the colors of House Sceadu, adding his wealth and noteriety to the House's reputation. He took his place in his brother's court, as an adviser in trade and shipping, and over the next several years managed to find himself in a place of trust with the Lord of Sceadu. Mordec elevated him to the position of Battle leader, and Knighted him as a Noble of House T'Calt, and from that time on he has served the house with unfailing loyalty, for his lust for battle has ever been sated by the machinations of Mordec's lust for power. With Mordec's departure and disapperance, the Lordship of House Sceadu passed to his only son, Marek T'Calt, and Marek was wise enough to keep Laneran in the same position that he had been appointed to under his father. The difference being that Marek not only recognizes Laneran's brilliance as a military commander, but as and enforcer, bounty hunter, slaver, and pirate. Laneran's thirst for blood has found an everlasting outlet in the commands of his newest Lord. It was in this capacity that Laneran found himself on the Kinslayer's ship, bound for Brettonia. 

House Sceadu and House Karkarin have long had mutually beneficial dealings and Marek believes that seeing their house rise to its former glory will help his own position among the noble houses. To that end he has sent Laneran as his trusted emissary to Carielle's court, to negotiate and deal on behalf of House Sceadu. Upon learning about the fall of Salza, and the need of House Karkarin, Laneran believed it would be fullfilling his duty to advance Sceadu's advantage and bargaining position to bring his martial prowess to bear on behalf of the Lady Carielle. Sending his own ship back to Naggaroth, with a detailed missive to Marek regarding the current situation, full of slaves and wealth earned at the negotiating table, and boarded the ship of the Kinslayer. It wouldn't surprise Laneran in the least if Marek was able to turn Karkarin's misfortune into leverage for House Sceadu. It is not for Laneran to question. He desires nothing for personal political gain, only that his house continues on, and that he lust for combat and killing is sated.


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## High_Seraph (Aug 28, 2009)

Name: Aradril Omirit

Age: 100

Sex: Male

Appearance: Medium height with black hair pulled loosely back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. Pale blue eyes that always seem to laugh. Sharp angular face. His pale body seems to reflect light when it is exposed. Scar going down his right side of his ribs from his older brother Teyuzoan.

Personality: Cold, uncaring, driven and highly perfectionist Aradril will not sop until he achieves whatever he has set his sights on. He is also cautious and will not act until he has the best intelligence he can get. Will not hesitate to lie or engage an outside party to kill an obstacle. When interacting with any Druuchi above his own station he always answers with a flat tone with no hint of emotion, and with an eye on those below to watch for talent or plots to kill him. While in battle his caution causes him to be almost untouchable in combat it yet leaves him lagging behind without fame or honour which angers him as he has defeated those with more expierance by waiting for the optimal chance before attacking.

Weaponry: Equipped with the standard weaponry of a corsair.

Repeater crossbow painted black and red with a small part picked out in his families gold eye and purple background.

Shield with the Omirit golden eye on a purple background.

Short spear used injunction with his shield that had belonged to his mother when she fought in battle as a warrior. Banded in gold with an eye in it around the wide angular head of the spear and written along the shaft is a record of battle Aradril's mother had fought in with him later adding his own in golden filligree along the purple shaft. 

Short sword worn on his right hip in case of being disarmed of his spear.

Lance that is currently resting within Cerak's ship.

Heavy Armour painted black with the right pauldron bearing house Omirit's crest stored in Cerak's ship as well. Light armour of a corsair painted in the Kinslayer's colours with the right pauldron again picked out in the golden eye and purple background of House Omirit.

Equipment: Several treaties detailing various battles and the tactics used in them. Dagger sheathed at his left hip. Pouch of comestibles, vial of poison and a water flask.

Specialty: Aradril is an aspiring tactician and has led a few raids that have gone remarkably well with few Druuchi casualties and no deaths. Prefers to stay back with a reserve to assess the battle and order movements to crush resistance. Will use this outside the field of fighting as well to bring enemies to the deaths they deserve.

Ambition: To command his own force of raiders and rise ever higher in rank and prestige. Eventually gaining the trusted position of Captain of a Black Ark.

Background: Aradril lived amongst the lowest of nobles in Druuchii society as a middle child. Growing up in the shadow of greater houses and an older brother had left a lasting impression on his young mind. Instilling in him a drive to know everything about enemies and how to bring about the downfall of those same enemies. he was very little when he first saw a Black Ark. Vowing to all gods that he would command one he threw himself into studies at a young age. Learning of various counters and manouveres in battle as well as ploys and feints to draw an enemy out.

As he entered his sceond decade he practiced more with short spears as his mother had before him than swords earning him some scorn from his father and brother Teyuzoan. Entering into a sparring match with his brother Aradril was disarmed with effort by Teyuzoan. In his anger at being held off for long by Aradil, Teyuzoan struck Aradril in the right side with his sword raking it along Aradril's ribs. Bleeding profusely he would have died if not for the intervention of their mother. While recovering his mother had left to fight in battle as a Warrior. However before the end she had died the spear she was carring broken by a sword cut that had also ended her life. When her body, arms and armour had been returned his Father had given Aradril the broken spear with a snarl. Getting it reforged and healing quickly Aradril plotted his brothers death.

Watching his brother brother train with his sword Aradril noticed some tendecies his brother had. Teyuzoan always used unneccesary flourishes when attacking overhand and switched from right hand to left for undercuts. Challenging his brother to a sparring match Aradril countered every blow his brother made making him angrier and angrier thus reducing his compusre even more. Knocking Teyuzoan to the ground Aradril calmly walked around and drove the point of his spear into the back of Teyuzoan's left knee crippling him for the rest of his life. However his Father had taken offence to this and sent Aradril away. Taking the armour, arms and mount of a Cold One Knight Aradril left straight away. Joining first one band then another of corsairs Aradril proved his mettle and ability in planning and leading battles. He took command of a small raider party when the leader had died owing to him not reinforcing a minute earlier.

Years passed and he was attacked on the sea by the Kinslayer himself after a long voyage, ship laden with slaves and captured gold. Aradril used his knowledge and the skill of his crew to evade and counter attack the Kinslayer. Boarding the Kinslayer's ship Aradril found himself under attack almost as soon as he stepped foot on the deck. Caught of gaurd he was almost killed but he still retained some wits and rasied his shield to block the blow his arm numbing from the impact. Realising he fought Cerak Kinslayer Aradril dropped into his favoured defensive stance and waited for an opening. Though none presented themselves that he could find Cerak stripped him first of spear then sword when he drew it. Defeated Aradril was offered the chance of dying or serving the Kinslayer. 

Immediately taking the offer of life Aradril soon regretted it as he was abused by Cerak and most of his crew. Stripped of his rank of Cold One Knight he was treated like a slave. However when the Kinslayer was boarded and engaged by several different opponets Aradril took a dropped sword and drove it into the back of one attacker giving Cerak the chance to kill the others. In recognition of this fact Cerak gave him the position of corsair. Proving loyal, for a Druuchi, Aradril gained some fame there. He was aboard the ship when the Kinslayer met the Hag Queen. Hope he is okay will change anything or everything if need be.


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

ill get on to reading messages and charactors a little later
friday night last night and work this morning have left me shattered 
I'm hoping to get the action thread done by monday or tuesday but these charactors im seeing are very very exciting
really got a good vibe for this


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## Lord Ramo (Apr 12, 2009)

Name: Ellros the Forsworn

Age: 133

Appearance: Ellros is a tall but not so lean figure, in perfect Psychical form, his skin is a light shade of purple, and his eyes are blood red. His hair is a dark brown and is kept shaggy, unlike the more elegant and cared for hair of his fellow Druuchi. He seems animalistic compared to that of other Druuchi, something that helps him stand apart from the others. He has several tribal tattoos, swirling black ink that cover the front of his torso, his cheek and his right arm. On his back he has a symbol devoted to the God Khaine. He has several scars, primarily on his back from a raid where he turned his back on a child to kill his father, only for the child to stab him several times with a knife. Suffice to say the Child did not live long, though the rest of his family were taken as slaves. 

Personality: Ellros has no time for the weak, instead he sees them as a sacrifice for the god Khaine. He plays as many malicious games as he can with his victims before ending their pitiful existence, whether that is with mind games, or physically. He will play mind games with others, whether they be his allies or even his own kin, he tries to make them doubt their own abilities and to loose concentration. Once that is achieved he leaves them in their doubt, until they become ineffective then he strikes, causing as much pain as possible before they die.

Weaponry: Ellros wears heavy armour, black as midnight though it is trimmed with Gold lining. Twisted barbs and spikes poke all out of his armour, sharp enough to cause damage, though it is mainly just for the visual and ornamental effect. Ellros shield is large, black like his armour with a symbol to Khaine taking the front of it up. His sword, nightreaper, is a finely crafter wicked looking blade. It is elegant but strong, a single handed blade for him to wield.

Equipment: Ellros carries a barbed whip 

Speciality: Ellros has some form of affinity with the dark creatures that the Dark Elves use in war. 

Ambitions: Ellros wants nothing more than to be a beastmaster to a highly powerful Druuchi, to be able to use the war beasts would be a fearsome sight, and hopefully one day would allow him to work directly for the Lord of all the Druuchi.

Background: Ellros grew up in a small noble house of the Druuchi, the last of six children. He was treated with disdain from his entire family when he was young and growing up, seemingly weak and small in the eyes of his family. All of his siblings were much older than him and seemed to be progressing well in both their fathers and mothers eyes. 

Ellros found himself without an ally in the world, and on many a cruel beating from pretty much his entire family. It twisted him against them, so much so that he plotted how best he could get his revenge. He started to work harder and harder on his studies, determined to become the best he could so that he could ruin his family.

His family lived in the mountain ranges, away from most prying eyes, the family paranoid about outsiders and decided to stay away from the prying eyes of other Druuchi. Ellros tutor lived in a wooded area above Ellros, family house. He had to go up there everyday, and at least it got him away from the cruel beatings and the taunts that came second nature to his family. It was on one of these trips down away after a hard days work when he was walking through the forest on his way back to the house when he saw it.

He came across it whilst it was grazing, a Dark Pegasus. Fascinated he tried to get close to it, but only succeeded in startling it. It turned and ran through the forest, unable to spread its wings and fly away from the perceived danger, though Ellros chased after it yelling in Elven to try and calm it. However at the edge of the forest Ellros discovered his ability, his elven crying coming out as a different sound, one which the Pegasus seemed to understand. 

It stopped and Ellros discovered that he had an affinity with creatures, one which he could use to make a name for himself. He found himself training the Pegasus everyday after his lessons, the beatings he got when he came back late only spurred him on more, his hatred for his family growing with each passing day. 

Soon some of his family began to suspect something was afoul, his eldest brother deciding one day to follow him, shadowing him throughout his day. He was shocked to see the secret that Ellros kept, and quickly went back and told his father. When Ellros returned he found his father and brothers standing in the courtyard, fully armoured and was told quickly by him that for keeping his ability a secret, as well as the Pegasus it would be taken and given to his eldest brother. Ellros fury was unmatched, and the slaves that cleaned near his room everynight could hear him take out his anger on his possessions, his family not paying any attention to it. 

Soon he was taken on his first raid with his eldest two brothers, one riding a cold one, one his pegasus and him having to walk alongside the ordinary footsoldiers. Though he felt humiliated by this he would soon gain a measure of revenge, but experience a little pain as well. The target of the raid was a small fishing village away from any major town or anything. The only thing protecting it was a small local archery force and the second they saw the Druuchi they called to arms. Ellros arrived at last with the foot infantry to the fight that enveloped the streets only to find that his two brothers, riding with the calvalry had already defeated the enemy and took the rest as slaves. 

Thats not what pissed Ellros off the most, as he moved through the dead he spotted something that made him stop in his tracks. He could see the pegasus, the one he trained lying in a pool of its own blood, arrows sticking out of it. He turned furious to his brother, who laughed at him and said that the Pegasus wasn't fit enough for his needs, and that it was luckily to get him to the ground before it died. Ellros didn't hesitate for a second, the laughter of his brother tore him over the edge. With one stride his sword was out, and he quickly cut his brothers head from his shoulders. He heard a cry of outrage to see his other brother, riding on his cold one straight at him, spear leveled as he planned on killing his brothers killer. He spoke loudly and quickly, the cold one understanding him. It bucked his brother from his saddle, and he leapt in quickly, flaying his brother alive on the spot.

The troops followed him for a time, he realized that he couldn't go home to his family, not that he wanted to. One day he would get his revenge against the rest of them but for now he was content to raid and pillage as much as he could. The troops followed Ellros for a while, but soon they got tired at the way he was treating them. He wasn't an idiot, he knew his tactics, but he cared not for the men under his command, and soon they got sick off him. They left him, the entire group, taking all the plunder and slaves back to the family in the hope that they would be kept alive by his father.

He wandered by himself for a while several days and nights alone in the wilderness. However he was soon drawn to the sounds of a battle, animalistic groans and noises and the clang of steel and weapons clashing in the night. Ellros came to the fight and saw his salvation, a way in which he maybe able to survive and join up with his fellow Druuchi. A small group of Druuchi fought against a large number of beastmen, seemingly lose the fight. However he could see that one of them the commander was obviously the one he would have to save. He stood apart from the rest of the Druuchi due to his armour and the finery of his weapons.

Ellros drew his own blade and leapt forward into the swirling meelee. The beastmen turned to face him as he howled his challenge, several of them grunting and charged towards him. However due to them being beasts he could understand them, and he used his speed to get close to them, into their defences and cut them down quickly. The beastmen could not deal with them, he swirled through them like water. He killed the first group within mere moments of entering the conflict, and more and more broke off from their attack to try and bring him down. This gave his kin a fighting chance, and they quickly rallied to their master and counterattacked. 

Finally Ellros met the chieftan of the Beastmen in single combat, the rest of its men being cut down by the noble and his remaining forces. The chieftan was a tough opponent, able to take more punishment than that of the beastmen that he had faced earlier, but eventually the amount of blood and cuts on its body took its toll and it fell, Ellros taking its head. He presented it to the noble, only asking for a chance to serve whatever fleet he was a part off, the noble taking it gladly.

It turned out that the noble was the son of the Kinslayer, and presented Ellros too his father as a accomplished swordsman, able to take down so many of the beastmen without taking a single hit in return. The Kinslayer gladly accepted Ellros into the corsair fleet, though soon saw him to be disappointing, from what his son had said he was. 

Ellros wasn't a bad swordsman, in fact he was fairly adept at it. However he couldn't produce the same flow he had against the Beastmen to the human, elven and dwarven forces that he came across, killing a few but normally taking some form of scar with him. Against the humans a child stabbed him in the back when he went to kill its father, against the elves he was lucky to escape with his left arm still attached to his body, the only thing that saved him was his armour, and against the dwarves he recieved a wound to his leg. He didn't show his ability with animals, none of the Druuchi know what he can do with animals, something he is keeping quiet for now.


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## Santaire (Feb 13, 2011)

Name: Acaman Sythril

Age: 149

Appearance: Tall and slim as with all of his kind Acaman possesses a seemingly fragile appearance that has had many a warrior underestimating him and every time this has proven fatal to his foe. He is anything but weak for he has a whipcord strength that is incredible considering his slender build. He strikes with the speed of a lightning bolt and uses speed more than force, relying on his natural agility and litheness to defeat his foes. His long hair is black and tied back so that it does not impede his vision. His eyes are an icy blue that have a piercing quality, giving those he gazes at an uncomfortable sensation that he can see right through to the dark depths of their soul. His eyes, as he was always told, are the gates to his soul and in them a man would find only icy hate and iron hard determination. His features are aquiline and his pale skin is unscarred despite his century of warfare. He moves like a dancer, with a grace and authority much envied by some of the more pompous nobles in Naggaroth.

Personality: Acaman believes in ending a fight as quickly as possible. Not for him the slow dance of death enjoyed by so many of his kin. He would much rather kill swiftly rather than leave his prey time to gather their wits and face him on his own terms. He believes that to give a foe long enogh to discover your fighting style is to risk your own life. He is very similar to the executions of Har Ganeth in this regard as they too believe in ending a fight with a single blow. He does not care for his fellow Druchii, the only people he holds in regard being the hag queens and those close to the Witch King. He possesses an unbreakable sense of determination, only yielding the fight when he has no other choice. He also has a huge amount of hatred in his mind although he controls it well. Even when it breaks through it is icy. He does not scream his hate; indeed he shows almost no actual sign of it. However one who knew him well would notice tenseness in his muscles and most warriors would notice how his speed increases, even if only by a small amount.


Armour and Weapons

Armour: Acaman wears a form fitting suit of scale armour with only several solid metal plates. These are his greaves, vambraces, back plate and chest plate. His armour is pitch black and is remarkably simple featuring none of the spikes favoured by his kin. It is tailored so that while it still gives him more protection than light armour that it gives him free mobility, meaning that he can use all of his deadly speed. The helm is the only extravagant part of his armour. It is similar in design to that of the executioners of Har Ganeth only with a full face mask. The eye slits are covered with red glass.

Shield: Acaman’s shield is exactly the same style as that utilized by all Cold One knights. It is pitch black and has Acaman’s symbol of a grey wolf howling before a full moon in the upper right hand corner. In the centre is the emblem of the Kinslayer whom Acaman serves.

Lance: Acaman wields a cut down version of the typical black iron lance carried by most Cold One knights. It is lighter and thinner while still packing enough of a punch to drive through most armour. It is lighter so that he can adjust its aim more easily, ensuring a killing blow and thinner so that the tip can slip through weak points in armour.

Sword: Acaman’s sword is a straight blade. It is relatively simple with a black hilt and dark grey blade. From the hilt to about a third of the way up the blade are sharp metal spikes but beyond that the blade is simple, tapering to a razor sharp, needle thin point capable of being slipped through ****** in armour. It has a hand and a half hilt meaning that he can grasp it with both hands in order to deliver the strongest blow possible. It is as light as a feather but loses none of its strength in order to be so. The weight is evenly balanced and this is part of what makes it so light. The guard slants towards the tip of the blade, ending in 3 sharp points on both sides and the pommel is a ring of black iron. (Very similar in design to this sword http://www.cbswords.com/popup_image.php/pID/463)

Repeater crossbow: Acaman carries a repeater crossbow for the duration of his journey. It is simple in design with the only extravagance being a small but precious gem set into the hilt. The darts are poisoned with dark venom to increase the chance of a one shot kill. He uses it sparingly but has no qualms about doing so. He may prefer his blade but any weapon is the means to an end and in this case that end is the death of those unlucky enough to fall under his gaze.

Equipment: A sea dragon cloak and a small vial of Manbane which he uses only when he has no other choice. Other than these he carries little, usually only a pouch of gold and a water flask. However occasionally he does carry a ration pack although he usually stores it in the bags carried by his cold one. Acaman also carries a pair of masterfully crafted daggers hung from his belt. He wears a caedlin fashioned of silver and worked into the face of a daemon.

Specialities: Speed. Acaman’s speed is legendary among the Kinslayer’s corsairs. He is fast enough that most of the time he does not need armour, his speed ensuring that the fight ends almost as quickly as it begins. To face him is to face a spinning whirlwind of death with only one thought in mind, the utter eradication of anything that stands in its way.

Ambition: Relatively little. If Acaman desires anything he desires to travel to Har Ganeth and train under the Executioners of Khaine. They, like him believe in ending a fight instantly and due to this he feels a certain kinship with them. He is no great believer in Gods, the only one he believes in being Khaine as any Dark Elf who has not seen his power has not truly lived. Because of this, even if he doubts the existence of other Gods he worships Khaine.

History: Once a killer, always a killer, as the saying goes. This is perfectly true for Acaman Sythril. Born into a noble family in Hag Graef Acaman grew up in a household of scheming plotters. Unlike his brothers and sisters Acaman was a hands on killer. Because of this his oldest brother used him as his personal assassin, utilizing him to kill all his potential rivals. Acaman’s brother’s rise was nothing short of incredible; he commanded his own ship within 4 years and was captain of a corsair fleet in 8. All the while Acaman annihilated his brother’s rivals.

One day Acaman grew tired of the game and left his brother, wandering in search of a worthy captain to serve under. As the young Dark Elf had predicted his brother was dead within a short space of time, 3 months to be precise, his body mutilated and tossed over board to be consumed by the creatures of the depths. As the fleet tore itself to pieces Acaman’s wanderings led him to Clar Karond where he found the Kinslayer. The warrior had recently fought in a great battle and needed new corsairs to swell his ranks. Acaman walked slowly but straight backed, displaying a natural grace and air of authority that caused a pompous noble to mutter jealousy behind his back.

Acaman turned slowly and the noble backed away slowly, driven backwards in nervousness by the cold malice in the young Dark Elf’s back. The noble came back to his senses and stopped. He puffed his chest out and strode forward with a pompous air that was quite ridiculous considering the fact that his hands were shaking slightly. “Haven’t you heard, there is a tithe to enter this city,” the man said. Acaman glanced behind him, seeing his bodyguard roll his eyes, not realising that Acaman was watching him. Acaman shook his head sadly and the noble took this as a sign he had no money. He had just opened his mouth to mock the young Dark Elf when Acaman’s hand flashed out from under his cloak. He was holding a knife and slashed for the noble’s throat.

He stopped the blade millimetres from the Dark Elf’s throat. The noble went white faced and stammered. His bodyguard took a step forward and gripped his sword’s hilt. “If you move he dies,” Acaman hissed. The Elf stopped. Acaman pushed the noble away from him and walked over to the recruiting post. “Acaman Sythril,” he said quietly and the corsair nodded. Acaman followed him to the ship of the Kinslayer where the warrior himself sized him up, sneered at his physical appearance but did not question his ability.

Acaman quickly proved himself a more than able warrior and swiftly rose through the ranks. Unlike his brother, whose rise had been quick due to Acaman’s skills the young Dark Elf’s rise was meteoric due to personal skill and determination. His speed was near legendary amongst the corsairs, his skills exceeded only by the Kinslayer and his chosen few. Acaman was first recognized as a true warrior by the Kinslayer during a raid on a High Elf settlement. Acaman fought at the forefront of the force, carving his way towards the leader of the defenders, a High Elf noble. Acaman was among the group that butchered his elite guard before facing the noble’s champion one on one while the Kinslayer fought the noble.

The High Elf swung at him with a blade that glistened in the sunlight. Acaman slid under the blow and raked his blade along his foe’s leg. His sword pierced the armour, parting skin and muscle before slamming to a halt against the bone. He withdrew the blade as the High Elf collapsed before spinning to his feet, bringing the blade round in a scything slash that separated the Champion’s head from his body. Throughout all this Cerak Kinslayer had been watching him and Acaman only just caught the approving nod of the grizzled warrior.

Currently Acaman is very close to becoming one of the Kinslayer’s personal chosen. The Kinslayer has been rewarding him greatly recently. A vial of mansbane, a masterfully crafted sword and a pair of daggers have all been given to him at the end of raiding voyages. The Kinslayer recently purchased a pack of Nauglir and some believe Acaman will be one of the first to recieve them


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## Jackinator (Nov 18, 2008)

Name: Noctavigant Tyr

Age: 107

Appearance: Noctavigant is pale, unusually so, with eyes dark as pitch framed by dark hair. Both his eyes and his hair are unnerving in that they do not so much reflect as absorb light, there is no life in those eyes, they merely stare dully out of a face that, while made harsh from hardship, is as yet unmarred by war. He is of less than average height, but slimmer than most, with that tensile strength and whipcord speed found among those used to living on the edge of their wits.

Personality: Noctavigant is a psychopath, now no Dark Elves are renowned for their mercy but Noctavigant is the kind to kill with less than reason, purely for the fact that he finds the change interesting. He does not take the same pleasure in killing that other Dark Elves do, it is simply a change for him, yet another change in the constant change that is existence. He is the kind of being who would turn the universe onto it's back just to see what would happen and that interest, that terrible... peace disturbs even the most hardened of warriors.

Weaponry and equipment: Matte Black heavy armour, it is relatively plain but has blades mounted on both forearms and spikes on the knuckles, shins and feet. He is as accustomed to using the armour as a weapon as much as any blade.
A long, slightly curved single bladed sword with a scaled, dragon headed hilt.
Repeater crossbow, the average weapon found among the crew of a corsair ship.

Equipment: A small icon of Khaine made of pure gold hangs from a strong cord at his neck. He usually keeps it tucked beneath his clothing and armour.
He also keeps a small roll of leather with pockets and notches for all of his various knives, scalpels and other tools used for his talents.

Specialisation: Torturer. Noctavigant is an inventive killer, slaying his opponents in ever more deadly ways, and he carries this on. His inventiveness is particularly useful in the torture chamber, his innate interest in the methods of change leading him to devise more and more painful methods of... 'accomodation'. Not only that, but his skills in torture have given him an innate knowledge of the human body, one that, if required he can use to repair it, he doesn't want projects dying too easily.

Ambitions: Unusually, but perhaps unsurprisingly, Noctavigant is relatively un-ambitious. His interests lie more in the application of pain and death, not in the amassing of fame and wealth, but merely of the chance to pursue his talents to their limits, and past them.

Background: House Tyr is like many of the lesser noble houses, living a privileged existence ruling over a small section of the Bloodied Palace under oath to the Karkarin's. The plots at that level are constant and unending and House Tyr has produced competent leaders, but few exceptional ones, meaning they have maintained their position but are unlikely to rise higher. This lack of talent has it's exceptions however, the current matriarch, and Noctavigant's mentor is quite a talented torturer and healer, many members of the nobility owe their continued functionality to her ministrations.

While still the son of a noble family Noctavigant's parents were hardly incredibly high ranking or wealthy and as the youngest child he was never in a particularly advantageous position. His siblings soon learned not to cross him however, when two of his brothers were discovered dead. They were his first Dark Elf murders, all the previous had been the usual training slaves and when they began to be lacking in interest he sought to find more interesting results from his siblings, to which end two of his elder brothers proved able 'volunteers'.

As nobility he was entitled to the rank of Cold One Knight as well as some of the finest equipment available. His first raiding expedition was with a rising captain within the Bloodied Palace. They encountered a Bretonnian coastguard ship while returning from a successful raid on the coastal villages and were slowed and boarded by the pathetic humans. But they had reckoned without the might of the Cold One Knights quartered on board, they formed an armoured bulwark on the deck of the ship, slaying any that came near them, before driving onto the deck of the Bretonnian ship.

The human sailors fled before them, cut down in the dozens by Noctavigant and his fellow knights. They reached the captain and literally hacked him to pieces, the remaining sailors, on seeing their captain suffer his fate were soon rounded up, chained and added to the slaves already in the holds. The ship was looted for what valuables it had and scuttled.

He had proved his worth, and joined other raids, quickly increasing in skill and fuelling his burning curiousity for the arts of death and pain. He had a brief spell within the torture chambers of the Bloodied Palace, but found it stifling and dull, leaving him unable to practice his art as freely as he wished, and limiting him to following the wishes of his superiors, which meant that, while they had their merits, the chambers did little to satisfy his interest.

He joined the fleet of Salza Karkarin, accompanying him in his raids along the Bretonnian coast. As such he came to know of Razyel Karkarin, if not by sight then by reputation. As he became a skilled and 'trusted' member of Salza's guard he has built up a distrust and dislike of any Karkarin other than Salza or the few he favours. When the battle with the Bretonnians was joined he was aboard the ships already. When Salza himself joined the fight he was left to protect Ayita Karkarin, a task he evidently failed, receiving a deep and possibly threatening wound in his left arm, one which still leaves him slightly slower with his left than usual, but one he recovered from with his mother's ministrations. However, it is a failure for which he seems to have escaped unpunished, perhaps because the only one who truly realises his failure is the near-dead Salza, perhaps for other reasons. As such, despite his past with Salza, he would not refuse protection from any rivals he may have had, particularly after the events that hastened his flight from the Ark. 

In his delirium Salza drifted in and out of consciousness, snatches of speech and thoughts ripping from tortured and pain wracked lips. Then two of Salza's lieutenants heard Noctavigant's name escape his lips, followed shortly by a curse and the events of Ayita's death. Driven by jealousy and ambition they sent warriors to Noctavigant's chambers, he had been trusted by Salza with his sisters life, a position the two Lieutenants had not been privileged with and they specified that his death should be slow, and painful. Unfortunately for the warriors he was expecting them, and a desire to keep him alive left three dead and another wounded, the remaining two left in his wake as he fled to the docks.

As a member of the family responsible for most of the primary docking areas he found it easy to grease a few palms and talk his way into the Kinslayer's dock, volunteering there and then for the mission to avenge Salza. He is no fool, and knows that he needs Salza's recovery to be unsuccessful to survive aboard the Bloodied Palace. To this end he plans to enlist permanently with the Kinslayer, or perhaps even the mysterious young noble he helped sneak aboard the vessel.


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

some fantastic charactors here and 5 new and superb sheets for me to read through
only da's to come 
Assuming both our maybes assumed to slink away unmolested I'm issuing a sweeping declaration in the hope we can reach our full number

ONE SPACE LEFT,

I will be sending out a fleet of pms with any changes that need making to your charactors though generally they are more a few technicalities from my quick skim then actual change

I see no need to change the semantics of what i have thus far read


As a further note, if da manages to get his charactor up and no one lays claim to the space i will be creating the action thread on tuesday.


As i said
ONE SPACE LEFT,


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## dark angel (Jun 11, 2008)

Name: Meraxes Syrax.

Age: 143.

Appearance: Tall, menacing and inhumanely handsome. Meraxes is as slender as a knife, erect and lean, all whipcord strength. His skin is snow-white, delightful to touch and as soft as lace, where his hair is an unusual silver-blonde, shining like beaten metal when the sun happens to fall upon it. This is due to his ancestry - Through the political marriage of a Chracian lady and a prince of Anlec, from which the resulting children inherited her hair and facial features. 

Another deviation of note, from the bog-standard Druchii, are his eyes - One of which is a haunting pink, the other a vivid blue, the colour of the skies - Despite being a mutation, it is said that this flaw only accentuates the beauty of Meraxes’ face. Framed by sharp, statuesque cheekbones and a narrow, straight nose, one tends to shine, where the other remains cold and unfazed. His mouth is cruel, all leathery lips and sharpened teeth, which glitter unnaturally. 

Personality: Cold, arrogant and severely proud, Meraxes is the stereotypical Dark Elf. He cares not for weaklings and failures, shunning them completely. Some would consider him to be a vile sycophant; idolizing Malekith and his original band of companions. Others would be wiser, and keep their tongues in line, lest they lose it to Meraxes’ cruel blade. 

Weaponry: 

Armour: A family heirloom, Meraxes’ armour has been passed from each generation, given to the firstborn son of House Syrax. It is artistically formed, with gauntlets and greaves of reinforced dragon-scale, which shimmer red-gold. The fingers of his hands are sharpened and lengthened into lethal talons, to act as a secondary weapon should his sword be lost in the heat of battle. A furred mantle, of Chracian White Lion, cascades from his shoulders in heavy bounds, ragged and sun-kissed by centuries of wear. The head, still regal despite being torn, lays upon his right shoulder at all times, while the paws are entwined over his chest, claws agleam. 

His helm is a terrible sight to behold, the colour of freshly spilt blood, glittering brightly. It has been the last sight of many a hero, cut down by his esteemed ancestors, furious, without remorse. It is formed in the shape of a flayed head, the gorget and helm designed in wonderful detail, showing each and every muscle, taut in pain. 

Sword: Meraxes’ sword, Ellinill, takes its name from the Cytharai God of Destruction, and reflects it perfectly. Long and narrow, it is formed from a jet-black metal, strong and nigh-unbreakable, a weapon for cleaving and hacking, rather than the finesse of rapiers and sabres. The crossguard is all encompassing, swallowing the hilt completely - Formed into a snarling lion’s head, in remembrance to his family origins. 

Lance: Meraxes wields a simple but powerful lance, with a wide, leaf-shaped head; for deep penetrations, if not outright killing blows. The haft is barbed and riveted, to provide exemplar difficulty for the victim’s attempts to yank it free. 

Specialization: Meraxes is known for his barbarity and willingness to indulge in cruel, sadistic torture. He is also a skilled rider, happy in the saddle of any beast, joyously swinging his blade left and right. Ferocious once he wants to be and utterly calm at other times, he resists the urges of battle whenever it is unneeded, remaining cool and calculating. 

Ambition: House Syrax is by far a weak house, owning a fleet of raiding vessels, based around the tremendous Black Ark, Malignant Heart, from which his father rules, almighty atop his bejeweled throne. One day, Meraxes vows, he will rule.

History: The firstborn son of a longstanding house, Meraxes was blessed from birth. His Mother, called the Seastar due to her beauty, was notably loving - Indulging her son with gifts from far off lands, that her husband had gathered in his raids. His father, Cymraen, was a noted lieutenant of Malekith himself, leading many successful raids against Ulthuan, harrowing coastal installations, taking particular glee in slaying Chracian warriors- Some of which were kin, famously enjoying the flaying of their proud White Lions.

When the Seastar brought a second son into the world, Meraxes grew terribly jealous of his mother’s new plaything, and when the boy was old enough to walk, led the child into the Nauglir pens. Trapped within, with the vicious beasts, the boy was devoured. The Seastar, despite the loss of her son, remained unbowed, merely returning to Meraxes, devoting every ounce of her time to him. 

His childhood was fraught with dangers, and Syraxian Knights were never far from Meraxes’ heels, steel in hand. Meraxes was weaned on blade and poison, turning the child into a monster; fighting with his servants, biting and clawing. Cymraen was filled with pride, seeing the makings of a great warrior, and ordered the boy to train - In the saddle and on foot, with sword and axe and crossbow. 

All the while, the Seastar grew corrupt, using dark devices and banned arts to preserve her youthfulness. She performed frequent sacrifices, cutting out depraved hearts and engorging herself on the flesh and blood of children. And yet, she still remained maternally loving, gathering Meraxes up into her bosom whenever they met, gifting him with kisses and expensive armour.

After eighteen years, Cymraen was finally convinced that his son was ready. He assembled a small raiding fleet, of a dozen vessels, each swollen and hooked, laying heavy in the waters. With holds filled with black-and-purple armoured warriors, they set off across the seas, bound for Bretonnia and the Empire. 

For a month they raided up and down the coast, Cymraen and Meraxes riding alongside one another, atop monstrous Nauglir. Clad in ceremonial armour, the pair made a cutting scene, cleaving their way through human hosts, roaring their battle lust. When sufficient amounts of slaves and loot had been taken, they would retreat from the battlefield, moving along the coast by night, sheltering amid hidden coves and caverns. 

And then, it went drastically wrong. A combined fleet of the Empire and Bretonnia, blatantly outnumbering the Druchii, captured them in a daring ambush, ramming into the Dark Elf vessels. 

A melee begun, where Cymraen’s vessel was isolated, boarded and captured by the enemy. Watching from his own ship, Meraxes found himself engulfed in a red mist, as his father was dragged from his throne, swords rising and falling. Miraculously, Cymraen survived, throwing himself overboard, bleeding profusely. 

Meraxes rage remained undaunted, as the beak of his vessel plunged into a Brettonian ship, shattering decks and dismounting many Knights. Atop his Nauglir, Meraxes leapt onto the floundering ship, sword aglitter with human blood, slaying sons and fathers, uncles and brothers. He was unstoppable, rending limbs, beheading men; his Nauglir tearing voraciously at armoured Knights and unarmed peasantry.

And as sudden as it had began, it was ended. A spear went into the Cold One’s heart, and in its death throes, kicked Meraxes from its back. A Knight, proud and austere, strode across the deck towards him, blade in hand. 

‘I,’ He spoke, in a baritone voice, filled with religious zeal. ‘Simon de Montfort, heir to the Land of Montfort, end ye life, foul beast.’ 

The ensuing attack was unrelenting, as the pair danced across the deck, water lapping at their feet. The ship was stricken, listing ungracefully in the tide, men and Druchii fighting around them. Meraxes’ own vessel had pulled away, lest it be pulled beneath the tide with the Brettonian man-o’-war. 

Abandoned, Meraxes was doomed. Simon de Montfort was an established warrior, and unworried by the sea which was devouring his ship. Meraxes knew the dangers, as he unclasped his chest plate and tossed away his helm, dancing away from de Montfort’s determined blows - And into a mast. 

There he stood, panting, blood flecking his face, as de Montfort flung his final blow. 

And was shocked, when Meraxes caught it in his gauntlet, ignoring the pain as it sawed into his palm. 

‘Nay,’ He spoke, in a triumphant voice, as drove a concealed dagger through de Montfort’s gorget, warm blood bubbling out over his hand. ‘This is not my day.’ 

Unceremoniously, Meraxes tossed the Knight into the sea, watching as the weight of his armour drove him downwards, leaving a slick, crimson trail behind him; and dived in afterwards, plunging into the murk. 

There he remained, paddling gently, until one of the surviving Druchii vessels happened upon him, and hauled him onboard. He was greeted as a hero, with reassuring nods and pats, and the laughs of Syraxian Knights, as they witnessed their puppy-lord, pulled wet and injured, from amid the destroyed ship. 

And yet, there was something whispered amongst the crew, as they witnessed his hand, bright and red in the sunlight. ‘A message, from Khaine,’ some said, while others scoffed at the notion of an avatar, derisively claiming it as nonsense. 

Cymraen had been equally lucky, having crawled atop a jagged rock, bleeding from a score of savage lacerations.

The Ravager Lord requested his son’s presence, and bound by duty, Meraxes agreed. Shuttled across the water to his father’s new flagship, he was led, not forced, into the lord’s morbid chambers. 

‘My son,’ He had breathed, blood and spittle frothing upon his lips. ‘You have proven yourself, this day, you may truly hold the name of Syrax.’

Meraxes, his hand glistening red from the brutal cut, merely smiled. 

‘I fear that this is my last, that I will not survive the return journey,’ Cymraen heaved, weakly. ‘You are my heir, let no-one tell you otherwise, not Malekith himself can deny you the right.’ 

‘Father,’ Meraxes said at last, a snarl beneath his words. ‘If you die, then so be it. Finally, a capable ruler will sit the throne, and your name shall be nothing but a curse. If not, then lament House Syrax, for you will continue to haunt us, a lickspittle and a sycophant.’

Enraged, Cymraen surged upwards, squealing in pain as his wounds tore anew, covering his clothes. 

‘You are truly my son, Meraxes. Be gone, or I shall show you how a lickspittle kills a whelp.’

And so, he did as requested, returning to his own vessel and departing the fleet. 

They arrived first at the _Malignant Heart_, where the Seastar had remained, with a great host of loyal retainers. When she and Meraxes laid eyes upon one another, the Seastar knew of what had conspired, and smiled a cruel smile - One of knowing, intent and cunning. 

Unfortunately for Meraxes, Cymraen had survived the ordeal, returning to the _Malignant Heart_ with murder in his eyes and sword in his hand. Only the Seastar, in all of her stark beauty, calmed her husband’s ire. And yet, Meraxes and his father did not see eye-to-eye, the former setting sail weeks later, aboard the vessel _Blackheart_. 

For a century he ravaged the world, sailing far and wide, hunting mercilessly, taking no particular care in who or what he killed;

In Araby, he sacked the city of Nasib, with less than a hundred of his Druchii brethren; through intelligence and inciting revolt amongst the slaves. In the chaos that followed, he and his band of cutthroats smuggled themselves through the gates, and torched the ancient temples, slaughtering the poorly-armed and organized rebels. 

On the Coast of Ulthuan, he happened upon a Chracian ship, and boarded it atop his Nauglir. His reptilian mount danced with a White Lion, before snapping its neck with dagger-length fangs. Within the hold, he found a beautiful lady of Chrace - A distant cousin, and raped her - Before cutting out her tongue and removing her hands, so that she could not end the horror of bearing a Druchii child. 

In Brettonia, he and a Grail Knight, Bors of Palamedes, fought a duel of legend, cutting down one another’s mounts, before twirling across a field, swords flashing orange in the sunlight. The Knight would have bested the cocksure Dark Elf, if it was not for a bolt from one of Meraxes’ raiders, which brought the Brettonian to his knees, protruding from his chest, red and obtuse. In a show of honour and respect, Meraxes allowed the Knight to escape - Knowing that failure and his crippled state was by far a worse fate than death.

All the while, Cymraen and the Seastar remained, hearing the depraved tales of the Blackheart and their son. Both were proud, though Cymraen remained bitter and murderous. Little did he know, the Seastar had been poisoning him for years, slowly solidifying his blood and muscles, so that he would eventually grow infirm and incapable of movement. 

When the _Blackheart _returned to Naggaroth, it was seized under command from Cymraen, and the crew publicly hung, drawn and quartered in Khaine’s name. Meraxes escaped, atop his gnarled Nauglir; pursued by his father’s agents. They cornered him, hacking the head from his mount, and would have made to kill him, if it was not for the intervention of Salza Karkarin. The two fought, back-to-back, defending one another ferociously.

Afterwards, both looked at one another, and with a shake of hands, declared friendship. Meraxes was welcomed into the _Bloodied Palace_, another Black Ark, completely different from the _Malignant Heart_, and yet, familiar. 

There he fell for Ayita Karkarin, though the relationship was largely imagined - Both playing one another off, smiling and laughing, while others whispered other depraved things - Though neither would confirm truth to this. Nor did they deny it, of course, merely grinning mischievously at the thought.

When Ayita and Salza departed for Brettonia, Meraxes did not accompany the expedition, rather remaining behind. It was during this time that the Seastar sent her son their family armour, promising that House Syrax would be his, and soon. 

News of Ayita’s death transformed Meraxes. He grew angry, swearing vengeance in the name of Ayita, laying his blade at the Hag Queen’s feet in a sign of honour. The head of de Vala, he vowed, would roll at his feet. 

_Bit of a monster, let me know if anything needs to be changed._


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

Righty ho, 8 superb charactors
Everyone par reavan who pesters me more than enough should have received a pm about their charactor all 8 are of course accepted especially at the high standard you guys are setting I am going to have to raise my game and i will be posting a few charactor sheets for npc's tomorrow night as i have the day off work and if i can gets posts up in other rps

In particular

The kinslayer, house and Cerak personally
Your squad sergeant thus far unnamed and rather ignored
Elena
Maybe even carielle because i'm falling in love with the charactor

The action thread shall arise on tuesday

ONE SPOT LEFT, you've got approximately 48 hours to get something messaged to me or posted.

other than that this is absolutely top work by all of you
get those changes done, any new ideas or problems with the changes with the number of capable rpers here im more than willing to be flexible and discursive

ONE SPOT LEFT people, really hope someone feels like trying to meet the exceptionally high bar raised by our current charactors


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## Jackinator (Nov 18, 2008)

Oh dear, first Salza, now Meraxes. Ayita's death just seems to breed enemies for Noctavigant. Let's hope no one tells him who was at fault or things might get very uncomfortable very quickly :laugh:


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

Action thread will be going up in the coming hours

Basic and failry dull information that needs to be known about the kinslayer


Sorry no charactor sheets appeared i spent the whole day almost comatosed, have not felt so rough in an age


The most ancient house of kinslayer:a brief history 

A house that can be traced back to the great sundering of elves and men, their true name lost in the machinations of time, the name bestowed upon the house by Malekith himself for their efforts against the elves of ulthuan, the sons known for their ruthless murder and bloody slaughter. 

Yet that has long since faded since a tradition of bloodthirsty murder became a part of their house.  The tradition for on the anniversary of their fathers death, the sons of the kinslayer fight in ceremonial ritual not only to determine who shall lead the house but it has also as become a testament to Khaine, a form of worship to the god of slaughter, to guide the father into his arms.

They fight until one son is left, that son is the strongest and the men of the line are as pure and powerful as it has ever know yet the house crumbles to ruin with only one son to lead the raids and also to defend the keep, they are blighted by opportunist lower houses for when the son leaves to raid, he would find his home. It was Ald Kinslayer, cerak's grandfather, that decided they abandon the little land they had left and became a raiding force, plaguing the costs of the empire and kislev. The stock of house kinslayer began to rise once more, until they like all raiding forces came afoul of the storms that plague the great ocean even as they turned their eyes and set sail for Ulthuan. 

The largest ship named Prince's bane after a particularly ferocious battle saw the warriors of the Kinslayer claim the lives of two of Caledor's dragon princes, thought it must be noted both the dragons survived,was the only one to reach safety. 


The storm itself was horrendous, water rising and falling like great monsters the wind ringing with the screams of dying men, and it is rumoured that perhaps one of the great mages of Ulthuan foresaw the return of Kinslayers to their shores and deigned to stop him by any means necessary. Their is no proof of this conspiracy yet it has twisted the kinslayers mind beyond recognition, his single desire to enact his original plan, to leave the shores of Ulthuan aflame with blood stained in the sand. However it is not possible as his other ships were torn apart upon the sea, the treasure encased within lost to its icy depths, leaving Cerrak his forces depleted and coffers nearly empty, vengeance seering at his soul.

Thus the house of kinslayer once again attempts to build under Cerak Kinslayer who thus far has only born one son Igaroth Kinslayer by the wyche Kalesta, also lost to the great ocean along with his fortune. Raids and new recruits have allowed his to purchase another ship "Unbreakable will" and now he takes up the bounty of Arcazon de vala the wealth his head will bring enough to allow the Kinslayer to enact his bloody vengeance.


Princes bane

A tremendous galleon with a broad deck that seems to stretch for miles and 3 great masts to carry her along, she has 4 decks yet still manages to move swiftly high in the water as a raider should. The bottom deck bears great cages for the cold ones of the kinslayer and his guard yet the sheer length allows plenty of room for store of loot and slaves though that currently stand almost empty par spare and unnecessary weapons. Above it the food stores and the kitchen galley on the same deck as several of the average soldiers hammocks. 

The second and first decks almost entirely devoted to soldiers bunks par a small corner of the ship which has been devoted to the officers quarters, plush bunks given to the kinslayer and his elite and also in this case the sorceress elena. Upon the deck is where most people reside and most of their armour lies in neatly clumped piles at the edge and around the mast amongst scattered and stoppered amphoras of wine and other exotic liquids. In the middle tussles and training exercises take place inbetween the great masts. At the prow a great golden dragon head stands surrounded by a cluster of spikes which bare the heads of past leaders and trophies of old conquests.

Through the centre of the ship is a great hole used to convey the cold ones to the top deck in wartime and also if people are feeling lazy to convey people down to their appropriate decks though their are ladders at both ends and through the centre of the ship


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

Very sweet opening post mate!!! I am looking forward to this one jumping off.


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## revan4559 (Aug 9, 2010)

Deathy will need you on msn at some point before i can post as we need to finish the flashback thing we started.


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

ill be on tonight and tomorrow night though gotta be up early as rather sleepy
not much to do
ACTION THREAD UP 
as i'm sure some of you have seen


just gave it a little edit as had to run to work straight after i finished it

I would like to update october the 1st though if everyone posts ill update earlier. Take your time and pm me if you have any questions or if you think I'm overloading you with information and its too much to post

Glad you like it midge, hope you all do


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

Very nice posts all! I have been working diligently on mine (though I have restarted from scratch twice) Should have one up by tomorrow nigh.


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## Rems (Jun 20, 2011)

Heh, i was a bit worried with no one else posting for a week after mine. Still loving the quality so far.


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

midge ramo and jack left to go and 5 excellent posts

gratitude all round
____________________________________________________________

i have read and thoroughly enjoyed all your posts and some pms will be going out of a few things i need changed, just as their are a few things that have been said that clash with where i want the story to go. Nothing major just tiny

Their may also be some requests for future posts and I'm going to be a bit of a dick in my pms and your more than welcome to call me out on it, seriously with what I'm going to be saying your more than welcome to tell me to fuck off, it will be requests for what I'm looking for from the rp and not demands, seriously a fuck off will be accepted without any insult.

Considering the length and sheer amount of info i heaped on you, I'm sure you will be relieved to know your next update will be much shorter, with the duels i think taking place over two updates

Update should be, assuming all post, tuesday


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## Lord Ramo (Apr 12, 2009)

My post will be up by the end of monday


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## Jackinator (Nov 18, 2008)

Mine should be up by the end of Monday too . Just had so much on this week that I lost track of time :S


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

Mine is finally up!


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## Lord Ramo (Apr 12, 2009)

So sorry guys, I know everyone is waiting for me but my post just got wiped by my stupid laptop. :angry::angry::ireful2: Luckily I am not going anywhere for the next few hours so will try and recreate my post.


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## Santaire (Feb 13, 2011)

Now that everyone (I think) has posted when's the update going up?


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

I know DB has been working on it, and he has just been waiting for Ramo as far as I know. We shouldn't have to wait long.


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## Lord Ramo (Apr 12, 2009)

Sorry again guys, my fault completely.


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

Lord Ramo said:


> Sorry again guys, my fault completely.


Darn skippy


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

donesies, bit late but had a friend over

make me proud to bear the title description whore, i want my metaphorical skirts to hit the floor as often as possible over your vivid imagery.

It was a great start last time guys, i'm really positive about this rp, got some excellent players willing to deal with large updates.

Hope you like what I've given you


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## Lord Ramo (Apr 12, 2009)

This is going to be fun.


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

When is the next update DB?


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

i would prefer to do it on tuesday 22nd nov but i've realised from the last update as long as people keep me in the loop I'm more than willing to wait for people.

I'd rather have good descriptive posts than quick posts.

So aim for the 22nd nov and if you cant make it, just drop me a pm or a post in the recruitment
with the players i have you've all been around a fair while so i feel fairly confident that you wont be disappearing on me, at least not without good reason or prior warning


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

Roger Roger. I just keep a list of all my RPs with the update dates and I saw that I didn't have anything for yours. Mine will be up by then.


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

some very good posts guys but i still think we can up the ante a little more on the action side 

Very pleased though

i'd like to update as soons as possible to try and get into the story
rems and jack any idea when you will be posting?


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## Jackinator (Nov 18, 2008)

Ah, apologies, I will get it up tonight or tomorrow . Sorry for delaying you


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## Rems (Jun 20, 2011)

Gah, life has been shit for me this week. I'm behind on all my rpg's. Sorry for not giving you a heads up. 

I'll get a post up tomorrow.


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

apologies for the time taken
ive been struggling against a final fantasy obsession, my roof leaking and general other things

poor excuses but still

Hope you enjoy, intending to get to some charactor interaction in a little bit as its been mostly intraspection and action thus far 

pm me if you have any problems


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

Sorry for the delay in my post mate. Been super busy with family, Christmas, and New Years happenings. Hoping to get one up on Monday, Tuesday at the lastest.


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

everybody take your time i'm not worried at the moment struggling to get anywhere with writing
I've had a fair few pms and am very relaxed at this stage about the pace of this rp, though i will be upping the ante after this update, however for now I'm relaxed for the below reason

i was actually hit by a car on new years eve, nothing particularly major, merely a few scratches and grazes but my whole body feels like, well its been hit by a car and its very painful. In general its shaken me up alot and I'm finding it difficult to get writing at the moment.

Therefore take your time, if your having problems pm me but we all have alot to do on the back of the festive season


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## Lord Ramo (Apr 12, 2009)

Sorry about you getting hit by a car mate, glad that your ok though. My post should be up soon, had a fairly hectic festive season.


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

I thought my holidays were busy and hectic. Hope you get to feeling better mate.


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

righty-o nag time
i'd like to get this updated so if we could get our posts up asap, i know alot of you have had other rps and this has been on the backburner, yet i'm back with a storyline seering the back of my brain

Any questions or pleas pm me but i'd appreciate if we could try and get this update by next friday


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## Jackinator (Nov 18, 2008)

Will do k:


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## Rems (Jun 20, 2011)

Sorry i've been taking so long, i've been away for a few weeks without the internet. (again after i sent you that pm) I will endeavour to get one up soon, i'm working through the backlog of rp's.


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## revan4559 (Aug 9, 2010)

Jack, Santaire, Rem's hurry up with your posting before i set midge to nom on your faces.


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## Jackinator (Nov 18, 2008)

Dude, I posted before you  :wink:
Muahahahahahahah :grin:


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

its not an issue, it was new year, i would like to get an update up friday if possible, however if everyones not up by then its going to be pushed back to sunday.

I've sworn my soul away friday night and working saturday, so this long gap between updates is not a problem. However i will be introducing a more rigid schedule from now on, i would like to up the speed, perhaps shortening the updates.

Do you feel like im giving you too much?

Just rems ramo and santaire, apologies to jack didnt see him, damn ninja


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## Jackinator (Nov 18, 2008)

No worries man, just as long as you don't wait for me when I'm already there :grin:


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

santaire and rems, we are waiting for you, both of you had given me an idea of a few days almost a week ago, any clue when we will be able to move on?

i understand the attraction of new rps and that i have been exceptionally relaxed about post times, however i'd like to move this on asap.


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## Santaire (Feb 13, 2011)

Really sorry, I promise it'll be up tonight


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

i have updated this bad boy, was waiting for rems but he seems to have been busy of late

Hope you all enjoy, giving you until 21/02/12 for your posts, so plenty of time, lets see what you've got

Any issues pm me

Thanks


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

one week and no posts, not beyond the realms of feasability
however i would like to update this next tuesday
would appreciate if you could do your best to have them up by then
looking forward to them
thanks


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

And first to post!!!!! Sorry for the delay on my part man I have been super busy. 

Come on everyone! Get those posts up.


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