ELEMECCA Welcome to the world of Elemecca, a fantastic universe full of adventure and peril. There are three main continents: The gigantic land of Rowan, filled with castles, kingdoms, and clashes like something straight out of a King Arthur storybook; the savage lands of Kizmera, filled with the savage beasts and wild tribes that once roamed the deserts of Pangaea, and the legendary City; a high-tech sprawling land rumored to be located in the wastelands at the bottom of the world, where the technology far surpasses the medieval land of Elemecca, and possibly even that of Earth. This land is ruled over by seven great spirits known as The Lordful Ones, one for each of the Glory Elements: Water, Earth, Fire, Wind, Lightning, Rock, and Light. Although the kings and queens of this land may seem human, the real strings are pulled by these immortal beings, and the land, although it may seem content, is forever locked in a cruel cycle of worship and sacrifice, for the entertainment of these beings. Each generation on the Elemecca has had seven heirs of The Lordful Ones, each representing one of the Glory Elements. Usually, these heirs are cruel tools of The Lordful Ones, disciplining the rebellious and using their fantastic powers to control the masses. But in this generation, something is different. Some of the heirs are disillusioned by the cruel rule of The Lordful Ones, and decide to do something about it. Now, using their powers, they will embark on a quest, uniting with each other and then traveling to the farthest corners of the world, seeking the fantastical and distant locations in which hide The Lordful Ones. Seven evils. Seven elements. Seven heirs. Seven battles. Will you survive? Name: Y’know, your name. Age: Teenagers, please. If you really want, you can be in your 20s or someought. Sex: If you really need this explained, you have obviously been a) born yesterday or b ) raised by extremely sheltering and caring parents, much to your dismay. Element/Powers/Abilities/Weapons/Whatever: There are seven elements you can control: Fire, Earth, Wind, Water, Lightning, Rock, and Light. One person per element, please. You can be creative with your powers as long as you don’t god-mode. If we do not have enough players/characters to fill up all seven elements, then the unused elements shall become heirs who are still loyal to The Lordful Ones, and thus our enemies. As for the other three categories…you know. Self-defense skills, bows, arrows, the lot. Description: How do they look? This may or may not be influenced by their element- i.e., a ruler of Air would be pale and blonde, while a Fire person would have red hair. Of course, this is just my opinion. Run free with your own. If you also want to describe your character’s personality, that would go in here. Bio: Background. Are they a lowly farm worker, or a noble prince? A girl raised on the plains of Kizmera, or a boy who lives on a roving colony on the oceans? (Please no characters from City; that will come later.) I’ll post my profile in a bit. (Just for notice, my characters will be Fire and Light, so you may only use the other five. If you want multiple characters, for the sake of fairness, keep it to two per player. However, if you all do one character per player, we can have a max of five other players. Also, if you do not like the available elements, substitute one of them with something else, and I will be glad to adjust the game plan.) Ready. Set. GO!
Then put up your character sheets. If you don't get how to make a character sheet, take my following ones as examples: ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Name: Fionix Robsdottir (Pronounced "Fee-YO-nicks." Age: 14 (Young, I know.) Sex: Female. Element stuff: Her element is fire. She can fly on fire wings (If you didn't pick up an image from the name, start thinking about that), and of course make fire projectiles. She can walk through any heat unharmed, and can harness any natural fire, feeding it or putting it out. Weapon/Ability stuff: Since she comes from a farm family, she's not big in the weapon department, but she does have one small sword, and her years of farm work have made her very strong. Description: Despite having been a worker all her life, Fionix's skin has always stayed extremely smooth and pale. She has fine features and long, curly red hair. She is dressed in a sensible tunic. (In other words, a much younger, much more gentle-looking version of this.) Personality: Very gentle, inspoken, and shy, it seems strange that a gift with such an ability for destruction would come to a nice girl like this. She is very polite and always tries to see the best in people. She doesn't like the idea of fighting or adventure. Bio: Born and raised a working girl for her fathers' farm in Rowan, she was 14 the day her powers violently manifested. Obviously, a farm is not the greatest place for fire, so as she watched her fathers' largest barn burn down in horror, Fionix fled, taking only the time to grab some food, a sword, and then run away- or, I should say, fly, thanks to her newfound talents. She knows not where she's going, but something is pulling her to a certain location, where she hopes she will find someone like her. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ And my other character: Name: Kao Royan (Pronounced "Kay-Yo") Age: 16 Sex: Male Element: He has the power of light and darkness, chaos and balance- the fabric that holds the world together. It's an extremely mysterious gift, and the full potential of it is not yet known. Weapons/Abilities: He is the great prince of Western Rowan, and so has been tutored in fighting all his life. He is armed with a rapier and a small shield, and is extremely fit. Description: Like I said, extremely fit, and dressed in a royal outfit- a dark blue uniform with gold badges and white gloves. Not the best gear for travelling, but it's what he's worn his whole life. He has regular-length black hair, but has white eyes. His personality is very prestigious and royal, since he is used to the life of a much-revered prince, sheltered by his father the king, who is in turn loyal to The Lordful Ones. But ever since his powers manifested, he has been dark, moody, and unpredictable. (More goth-y than emo, if that's how you think.) Bio: He has lived all his life in a castle, surrounded by servants and nurture and care. However, on the day he turned 16, he was at his birthday celebration when suddenly a huge flash of light exploded from his chest. When it had cleared off, Kao was standing alone, and was surrounded by the dead bodies of his friends, servants- and parents. Shocked and frightened, he quickly ran for his life before any guards could come to find what had happened. He is now on the run in his own country, an irony he greatly regrets. Right, that's my stuff. Try it yourself now.
Expect typos, it's late. Name: John Peter Swift Age: 17 Sex: M Element: Rock. The ability to move and shape solid rock like an artist. John needs no physical contact with the rock only the ability to see or even sense the earth in any direction around him. He can cause to rock to jump, jut out like a sword, twist and rith like a snake, and is even pick up and levitate rock before throwing it. Weapon: Spear, javelin or pike. I have no idea about the military works of your world but my guy's dad was in one of them. Oddly enough, his dad taught him a thing or two. Minor healing, and some survival stuff. Description: About 5' 11", grayish black hair cut in a military fashion, one green eye and one brown, good upper body strength. Wears a dark brown coat over his other clothes - mostly grey. Raised by a military man, he has a strong militaristic personality: loyal, disciplined, morel and devoted. He had to work for everything that his father has taught him or even gave him, so he understands what it is to struggle. His fathers death has left him...resigned and a little out of things. He is intelligent, but not overly so. His main characteristic is unfailing sense of morels, beaten into his head by his father. Something like a morale compass. Bio: John was raised on a military base, by his father, a high ranking officer in the country of question. His Mother died during his birth, but his father and the other members of the base were always there for him. Which is why he took their deaths so hard after an accident left several members of his "family" dead. John first discovered his abilities several days before the accident when he was doing on of his morning chores. The more he used the ability, the more in tune with it he became. His father, ecstatic at his sons new found abilities, had the idea of using them to move a large boulder left from a devastating rock slide that was blocking one of the bases' many roads. Things didn't go as planned...john wrongfully blames himself for the deaths of what was his only family.
Name: Bryce Age: 18 Sex: M Element: Wind. Bryce controls the power of the wind. Ever since he was a small child, the wind fascinated him, how it could vary in such short space; how it could be so destructive and so helpful. Through puberty, Bryce gradually discover he could control the wind. Learning how to slow it down, change the direction it blew from momentarily to start with, until by the time he was a man physically, he had almost total control of the wind within a 30 foot radius. His powers gradually weaken as he tries to control wind in further-away places. Weapon: Hand-held cross bow. He tought himself how to shoot in conjuction with the wind, using it both to his advantage and disadvantage, giving him lethal accuracy. In close quarters, he uses too long, thin knives. Description: 6 ft 2 and slender, with long flowing white hair that seems to have no definite end - it just fades into nothing half way down his back. Wears a white cape over a tight white leather tunic. Bio: Living with his mother high on a coastal mountain top in complete soltitude, Bryce never developed any social skills. He is quiet and withdrawn, with a soft voice and piercing sky-blue eyes that seem to speak for him. His love of the wind began one day when the wind was non-existant on the beach and blowing a gale at his home. Since that day, Bryce has slowly gained knowledge and power over the wind - yet there is much too learn still. His drive is too learn everything there is to know and control it so that it will only help himself and others.
&OOC: (( But why is everyone doing list descriptions? Why not straight away introduce your respective characters in narrative?))
Meh, it's just how I'm used to doing things. At least it's more slack then one of those dice-roller games. If you do wish to join but don't wish to put up a list, at least tell us what power you're taking so as to avoid confusion. As for everyone else: Great! Good work.
Erm. If we don't get another player (Seeing as unless Myst puts it up, it's just three people) I'll probably abort, cuz four is like the minimum you can have in these things.
Light, rock, wind and fire. I bring you Water! (Note: I won't be able to update every day. I'll try, I promise - but the semester has started, and unless you can confer to me a deep understanding of redox reactions via telepathy, I need to keep studying.) Name: Hathi ta'Jian. (Rhymes with "Cathy". TAH-Jee-in.) You see a short, slender boy overburdened with a pack on his back and a walking stick that would be a lot more useful if he were about six inches taller. A dog trots next to him. The boy has light gray eyes and short black hair, haphazardly cut except for a footlong braid in back. He looks like a refugee from a burnt fishing village: tattered sandals, a pale gray shirt that covers him down to his knees, a pair of shorts that were clearly not intended for him (different cloth, different style) and a bandage around his thigh are all he wears, at least for now. The pack on his shoulders is heavy with bone utensils and equipment: fishing gear, a net, a sling, a cooking basket, dried meat, and similar goods. There is a bedroll and an amulet of goodwill from the Jian family, made of woven glass with a small shell at the center. The woven glass is the only sign on him that his family can use magic, although there is some leather armor in his pack. There is a knife strapped to his shoulder. It is plainly too big for him. The grip is of carved ivory in an ornate shell pattern; the bronze blade looks like it would do a lot of damage. This has nothing to do with the scar slashing down his left ear to his jaw. *cough, cough* The dog, Gallow, can't do anything special except swim long distances. She's just a friend. She looks like a small retriever, with brown hair bleached to blonde on her back and face. She understands Hathi's tone and responds to that, although the only "command" she knows by heart is "Run!" Hathi does come from an island, and the magic there focuses on the sea, on self-knowledge, and on balance. He isn't wise although he can quote the wise words of others; he knows just enough to know that the Lordful Ones are corrupted and ignorant of nature. Water power heals and confers an understanding of the world through contemplation, meditation or prayer. It gives the wielder control over water in all its forms, although if Hathi hasn't seen it before, he won't be able to understand it. He might be able to condense fog out of the air or separate saltwater into purer water and concentrated saltwater. But at this point he is still learning the ropes, and he found himself having to leave home rather quickly, so he isn't fully trained.
Sure, lets go with that. Off on our own, or in a group? Crap like that...The rpg, the group...yada-yada.... Ah, should waited for Myst be?
Here's mine: Name: Myst Age: 18 Sex: M Elemental: Lightning. Description: Messy black hair. His fringe reaches his eyebrows like dropping thorns. Colourless, remote eyes. He is 5"12 and well-built. He is passionate but lets his emotions consume him too often. Background: (Somewhere in Rowan? Lol) An orphan adopted by a Knight, wishing for a child. He grew up in the ways of the sword, and displayed skillful prowess in it. His foster father died in a crusade, and Myst became a Knight for the king in the hope of avenging or continuing the legacy of his foster father, but was ostracized, being called a "street rat" or "mongrel". However, he quickly rose in the ranks and became known, coincidentally, as the "Lightning Knight" for his fast reflexes and quick counter-attacks. Once, when surrounded by a group of invading soldiers, his elemental powers spontaneously overflowed out of him and collapsed a large part of the town. The destruction of many houses and innocent casualties occured due to this. Since none (except the invaders) had been fatally injured, and Myst had served well before, he was only told to resign his duty as a Knight, but Myst exiled himself by choice and left the town. His control over his powers has now developed largely. Weapons: The axe or sword.
Yep. And to answer Ferret: We start off alone and kind of gather into a group, as I will demonstrate now. (I apologize for taking liberties with Myst's character.) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Myst was walking along a road outside the palace boundaries of Rowan, when he heard- "You! You, knight, wait up!" Myst narrowed his eyes. He knew that voice. He turned around and wearily bow, spitting out the words, "Yes, your Prince Ka-" "Oh, don't bother with that rubbish," Kao groaned, pulling up next to Myst on a horse he had stolen from the royal stables. "I'm on the run from my own palace because I accidentally just- just- I..." Myst's eyes widened. "Oh no. Did you...?" "Yes!" Kao wailed. "I did the- with the light- and then- and it's- and I killed my family!" Myst looked away for a second. What was this? Were all the boys bursting with power lately? "Alright," he said. "Let's keep walking and talk through this." (ooc: Alright. As you can see, RPG writing is not exactly top-quality, but it's really just meant for fun. Also, if Myst has any problems with my using his character, please state them now, because where I come from, as long as you use them in character enough, people are free to borrow other characters in their post.)
(( Haha! Where exactly do you come from? Anyway, I don't mind you using my character.)) Myst tread slowly with his fingers gently holding the sheath of his sword- a habit- and with the posture of one burdened by heavy thoughts. "Prince K- I mean...Kao, what exactly happened?"
Bryce finally stopped. The knives on his legs felt like battleaxes, after the three day march. In the distance, the blue fade of the mountains, and beyond that, the coast, lingered in his mind as her turned woefully from the scene and collapsed onto the floor. A cry of anguish escaped his wind-burnt lips, as he crawled into nearby scrub and drifted straight into deep sleep...
Above Bryce, unaware, a girl flew through the air. Fionix was still scared. Just a few hours ago she had burned down her father's farm. Now she discovered she could fly on wings of flame that didn't burn her. What was this? It was like an adventure the storytellers used to talk of. She didn't want adventure. All Fionix wanted was peace... Suddenly, she saw a figure in the bushes below. Fionix sensed something- for the past hour, she had been pulled by something, like a magnet. Somehow, she knew this was what she was looking for. Fionix began to descend to the ground... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "I am not quite sure," Kao said, trotting along on his horse. "It was- it is my birthday. We were sitting there, celebrating- then this flash, and everyone is dead. What do you think it means?" "Well, I don't-" Myst began, and then his eyes widened. "Hey! Did you see that?" "What?" Kao asked, his head snapping up to look into the distance. What he saw was a giant thing that looked like a- a bird of flame, descending into a patch of bushes. "What is it?" Myst asked. "It has to do with us." "What?!" "It has to do with us," Kao said. "I don't know why, but I know it does. Come on! Get on the horse! We need to get out there!" (ooc: That's four of us together. The other two will have to figure out how to introduce themselves.)
(Sorry about the length. but it does give a good estimate of his abilities. Remember, his powers manifested a few months ago.) John held his arm parallel to the ground as he made his way long the long forgotten road that he now found himself walking. He began to move his hand up and down conversely and smiled as fist sized rocks on the path began to jump and dance in accordance with the movements of his hand. Growing more confident he lifted his whole arm in an attempt to send a small boulder flying into the side of a much larger rock face a few yards away. The sharp, satisfying, crack of rock on rock contact , which had become more and more common as he practiced is abilities, sent a bird hastily away from it’s perch on top of a nearby stump. Wondering how much control he ad over this element he began to walk towards the face of the cliff. The rock felt smooth against his palm, concentrating he rubbed the rock while thinking “smooth”. When he removed his hand he saw the granite had become as smooth marble. Knowing he would regret what he was about to do, he pulled his arm back as if he was about to punch something and held it there for a second and began to seriously contemplate what he was going to do. With eyes closed, he sent his fist barreling into the living rock with the intent moving the rock around his hand like it was water. He opened his eyes and blinked, looked at the rock, where his arm should have been and where it was now. He had some how managed to move the rock around his hand like he was punching a wall of pudding. Concentrating even harder, he opened his hand within the rock and curved his fingers upward so that his hand formed a c shape. He began to sweat, but after all this he wasn’t about to stop until he proved to himself he could do it. With all the forced he had to give, he pulled back against the wall and was sent stumbling into the road, his hand encased in rock. Staring up at the clouds he began to contemplate how he would get the rock from off his hand. He could send it flying off in pieces by rapidly opening his fist, or he could even get it off by using his mind, his options were limitless. But in the end he decided to be a Neanderthal and smash it against another rock. Standing he noticed that the stone encasing his fist was of the same texture and the marble he created by rubbing his hand against the wall. Looking for an appropriate place to smash the rock he noticed that there was now a grotesque, gaping, hole in the cliff that closely resembled the roaring jaws of an angry bear. His smile disappeared momentarily; looking at the hole began to anger him. “God, why couldn’t this have been as easy three months ago?” He half yelled half sobbed. Trees began to sway left and right while shaking violently from the impact of the heavy stones. Birds began cry out in alarm as smaller boulders narrowly missed tier nests, foxes, mice, and even deer began to run away from the epicenter of what was fast becoming a hurricane of stone. At the height of his rage he raised his arm above his head and sent it towards the Earth with all the force his body and powers would allow. Exhausted, he fell to the ground, passing out a few seconds latter. But, not before he heard the yelling of strangers. ”I think it came from over here! Oh, somebody get me some bandages…and some hot water, Now!”
Hathi drowsed under a bush by the side of the road. He was relaxed enough that he looked like a boy asleep, but it was not so. Hathi was tired from travel, but his mind would not let him rest. He had put many leagues between himself and the man who had attacked him, but he did not know whether he was safe even here on the mainland. Always, now, there was a fear preying at the back of his mind. A fear of the man and his companions; a fear of the deep power that had lashed out the instant the man’s knife had touched Hathi’s face. Most of all, a fear that he was a freak of some kind, like the dolphin with no flippers that had washed up on the shore three summers previously. One of a kind - and so aberrant that it would have been a mercy to kill it even if it hadn’t already been dead. Hathi put up one hand, absently, to shield his eyes from the sun. What had the man meant, anyway, by attacking him like that? The man had been in Svernton trading the deep blue paua shells for metal goods when he’d spotted Hathi healing a cut on Gallow’s leg. Suddenly the man’s knife was out and he was speaking harsh words in the trade language: Heir and Witch-boy, and words Hathi didn’t know but which must have meant the Seven Lords judging by the way the old women all objected at once. Then the knife was in the air, and then it was cleaving Hathi’s face - He turned over fretfully. He still didn’t like to think about the implications of what he had done. Minor magic was good, and not uncommon; a morning prayer or the shine-illusions that Pikkori and her grandfather wove during the Winternight celebrations. The most magic he’d seen all at once was Perlman’s glassweaving when he made Hathi’s manhood amulet, binding the threads to the sea and to the shore and to the mighty storm-winds. What he, Hathi, had done was more. The man had thrown, and suddenly Hathi felt as though he were the center of a web, with strong links forming and re-forming themselves. He had instinctively seized upon a thread with his mind and pulled, hard. And had blinked, and looked up to see a pot of boiling water tip over, the water flinging itself at the man’s face. The knife chipped Hathi’s jawbone, slicing into the flesh further. He yelled, seized the knife. A peculiar sensation flowed out of his hand, into the knife and, through it, into the rough bone. When he pulled out the knife, the pain was strangely lessened. When he gingerly touched the wound, it wasn’t there. Only a scar remained. And he had fled home, aware that what he had done had marked him in the eyes of the tradesmen. He had blinded a full-grown man; the man’s companions would demand repayment, and he had nothing but what his own two hands could make. Frantically he had packed his belongings and left. Old Corrine had noticed him, had talked with him, and had gifted him with the staff and a sheath for the knife. Her words still haunted him, for he could make neither head nor tail of their meaning. Under the bush, Hathi startled awake as Gallow barked. There was a - thing - shooting across the sky, angling down into the grass. A lighted arrow? But there was something wrong about it, a flavor or tinge of should-not-be that made him queasy. He rose haltingly to his feet, hoisted his pack, and reached for the staff. Then the world changed, and suddenly, just for an instant, he was the center of the web again. But there was a hole of strange nothing where the fiery thing had landed. It almost tasted of magic. He started to run, but Gallow’s whine brought him up short. Looking back, he saw two men on horseback, talking to each other and plainly headed toward the fire-thing. One bore the raiment of a knight, and the sight filled Hathi with fear; the tradesmen might have offered a reward for his capture. But they were still going toward the fire! He gripped the staff tightly. He couldn’t let them die by magic. No one deserved to be hurt that way, by something that felt so wrong even to his own aberrant senses. Hathi squared his shoulders and dashed toward them, Gallow trotting at his side.
(OOC: It would probably be easier to have my character come in after everybody else has managed to unite - Later that night perhaps)
