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Mezal Althara stooped and glared at the length of steel slowly turning a bright orange color in his forge. 

 

"Hurry up, you goat-fathered jackdaw." He growled. "Blood and bloody ashes, I swear, I'll turn you into a latrine scraper if you don't get nice and hot right this minute!"

 

He stood there waiting for all of three seconds before throwing up his hands in disgust and stomping his surprisingly thin frame for a blacksmith over to the bellows. 

 

"Let's see how you bloody well like this then!" He shouted as he pumped the bellows ferociously; causing his entire workroom to quickly fill with red-hot embers. One of them landed on his arm, adding yet another burn to the impressive collection Mezal had all over his body. 

 

He jumped back with a cry of shock and outrage while swiping at the ember, trying to get it off his skin. 

 

"Mother's milk in a cup! Go kiss a goat, you boneheaded, addled-brained buffoon! That does it! I warned you! You just became a set of horseshoes! That way, you can get stomped on all day long!"

 

He stomped back to the forge, whipped the now brightly shining rod out, slammed it down on the anvil, and started banging on it as if it had murdered his whole family. 

 

Despite all the commotion and cursing and cuts and burns, the wares hanging outside his shop were all of top quality. How he pulled this off, no one was quite sure. 

 


 

 

We've got a lot of travelers in town, so it's time to help start populating the village of Drell's Crossing itself. And what self respecting village doesn't have a blacksmith. ;) So now we have an innkeeper, a blacksmith, and a widow. Too bad we don't have a cobbler, eh Maill? ;)

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If you want I can change my character (I'm not that attached - I basically thought him up as I typed.)

 

Ruon, a child of 15, who longs to get away from the town and see the world, accompanied only by a harp, a flute, a rucksack, and the thick patched cloak of a gleeman around his shoulders.

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We've got a lot of travelers in town, so it's time to help start populating the village of Drell's Crossing itself. And what self respecting village doesn't have a blacksmith. ;) So now we have an innkeeper, a blacksmith, and a widow. Too bad we don't have a cobbler, eh Maill? ;)

Every village needs a false dragon too, and we've also got one of those too. Edited by Haelbarde
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Lorien walked away from the man selling dirt, without buying anything. "We should probably make him leave, just in case he decides to go on a murder spree," Lorien said has he walked into his shed. This is where he kept all his gear for protecting the town. "I need to visit the blacksmith again, so I can get my armor fixed," he said. He grabbed his helmet and walked over to where the blacksmiths shop is.

As he walked up to the shop he heard a bunch on curses. "I like this man," Lorien said with a smile. He walked into his friends shop and called out for him. "Mezal! I need my helmet repaired!"

He walked away from the shop and went to his shed. He put on all his gear and started to patrol around town. He loved his job, but it was fairly boring because nothing ever happened in this town. That was a good thing though, it meant that he was doing his job well.

Lorien is a town guard with a few scars from the job. He also is 32, 6" 4, well muscled, and has a small, gruffly beard.

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I hope you don't mind what I've written. If you have a problem with it, let me know and I'll fix it.

 

Ruon stared from the doorway of the building, watching the world go by. On his side of town, there wasn't much going on, just the same old routine. Across the road, the blacksmith was mouthing off at his apprentice again, making a furious wall of noise loud enough to wake the dead. The town guard strode in, strutting about like some sort of preened turkey, ordering that his helmet be repaired. The silly oaf probably dropped it when he saw his own reflection. Ruon smiled for a moment, then returned to his self-wallowing pity.

 

It was the other side of town where everyone of any kind of importance lived. Unsurprisingly, the peddlers set up any wares there, knowing full well which side of town had all the money. Any gleemans passing through performed there, and any visitors stayed there. If Ruon craned his head, he could just make it out. The Village Inn, where people stayed when they came to this town overnight, before moving about to see some other town.

 

There seemed to be a lot of people at the inn at that time, but Ruon just sighed. He had no doubt that they, like all the others, would just leave, move on, and be at a new town by supper the next day, eat at another inn, and leave again, to see even more of the world. Meanwhile, Ruon would be left here, living next to a blacksmith that thought that 'quiet' was something you fed your pigs, and a town guard that thought he was in the best of company when sitting alone in his own home.

 

A voice called from inside the house, but Ruon ignored it, watching the world go by. Surely, it wouldn't be, it couldn't be, so far away from a time when he could just grab his bag and cloak, walk out of the house, and never return. Never again see this street, with it's same perpetual people going about in their dreary lives, too complacent to ever get up to anything interesting. Ruon wanted to see the world, to witness the stories that he'd only heard about, stories of heroes and villains, where Darkfriends wander the streets. Ruon wanted to find a Channeller, to see their power as they weaved the world, changing it to their whim. Ruon wanted to see everything, everything interesting, everything this town wasn't. But, nothing like that could ever possibly happen in Drell's Crossing.

 

Hearing the call from within again, Ruon reluctantly made his way inside, closing the door behind him with a click.

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Hey guys! Just saw signups, I'll be joining as well! I have finals coming up, so I might not have much time (For studying. Obviously SE is the priority :P)

 

Bugsy awoke with a start, an unfamiliar weight pressing against his face and tsag of a crick in his neck. He groaned, attempting to sit up, only to find that he was already propped up in a chair. His chair, he remembered suddenly. He had fallen asleep reading again. It wasn't a particularly interesting book, simply a historical account of the Age of Legends, made up mostly of the rumors that had propagated since. Still, it wasn't terrible. And it made for a wonderful sleeping potion, he though wryly as he sat up in his chair. He had been having trouble sleeping lately, largely on account of some bad dreams. Vague memories of a time long past, yet at somehow taking place both now and in the future. He had not existed in this alternate reality; of that he was sure. Still, some of his closest friends in the village had lived during that time. The images had not been pretty. They had killed and been killed, turning against themselves in an attempt to root out the evil in their midst. 

 

He shook his head. He didn't know what caused the dreams, but they could not be possibly true. These people could not possibly be able to commit the horrifying atrocities he saw each night. Pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind, he rose, stretching out his back. He quickly dressed and ate, then headed to the library for the day. He was the head librarian for the village, not that it truly mattered; few enough people visited that he probably could choose not to show up to his job for weeks and not be missed. As he strolled down the street, rubbing futilely at his own neck in an attempt to ease the still-present knot, he saw a man selling dirt nearby. A small crowd had formed around him, and Bugsy sighed softly. It was a sad time indeed when a man giving dirt for money attracted more attention than a man giving knowledge for free. Arriving at the library, he opened the unlocked door and slouched down in his favorite armchair, flipping open his book to begin reading from where he had left off the previous night. He was asleep within 10 minutes

 

I'm not familiar with LG6 or WoT, so I apologize in advance for any mishaps I may make in my RP. (Oh, and I wasn't able to find the LG6 thread. If anyone could point me in the right direction, it'd be much appreciated :)

Edited by Bugsy6912
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Mezal eyed the crack in the helmet Lorien had left suspiciously, as if it had broken on purpose. 

 

"Flaming thing. Making more bloody work for me as if I don't have enough to do around here."

 

As he contemplated how to go about the repair and made some mental notes, the steel rod he'd been working on went cold on the anvil. By the time Mezal noticed, it was too late. The only thing it would be good for now was scrap pieces until he could smelt it down and forge a new billet out of it. 

 

Mezal's eyes widened when he realized what had happened. He stood there in shock for a moment before glowering back at the helmet. 

 

"Burn me! See what you made me do, you Light-forsaken, crackbrained, prancing she-goat!" 

He threw the helmet against the wall as hard as he could; causing the crack in it to split the helmet in half. 

 

"Oh, just bloody great! Now I'll bloody well have to just make an entire new flaming helmet!"

 

Despite his rage, Mezal got straight to work. He stoked the forge and started prepping a new piece of steel; all while cursing up a storm. 

 


 

I'm not familiar with LG6 or WoT, so I apologize in advance for any mishaps I may make in my RP. (Oh, and I wasn't able to find the LG6 thread. If anyone could point me in the right direction, it'd be much appreciated :)

 

Here's a link to LG6 at least. We've had so many games now that there are multiple pages of previous games to go through! 

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Lexa and Heaven sat down in chairs at the pub. Heaven took a sip of a thing of ale and then spit it out almost immediately, swearing like a sailor. 

"What is that nonsense!?" she shouted. "This should be a sin!" 

Lexa giggled and planted a kiss on her cheek. Heaven handed the cup back to Lexa, who drank it all down. "I can't believe you're drinking that... that... horse piss." 

"It's ale, Heaven. Live a little bit." 

"But it tastes disgusting!" Heaven protested. Her terracotta colored hand reached for Lexa's white one. "I don't understand why you like that... that... demon." 

"I don't  drink it for the taste, Heaven, I drink to get drunk." Lexa licked the ale that dribbled down Heaven's cheek. Heaven playfully licked her forehead. They both giggled and hugged. "You're gorgeous." Lexa rested her head on the fabric of Heaven's hijaab. 

"You too." 

 

"What are you guys doing?" someone asked. Lexa turned to glare at him. 

"Being in love," Heaven said, before Lexa could annoy him. "I'm Heaven, this is Lexa. You?" 
 

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What was the minimum number of players for this to go ahead?

 

The game can run with any amount of players, really. So there's no minimum or maximum cap, per se, it's just the sign-ups usually last about a week or so, so these will end roughly sometime Thursday night. That being said, the more players to sign-up, the merrier! And for added extra incentive, I'll let you all know the mark I'm trying to hit is ~25+ players to include the warder role! ;) (And once again, the OP will announce if the Warder Role is included or not)

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Well, I'll go ahead and join now I guess. :P I was planning on figuring out a character and trying to get some sort of RP done as a sign up post, but eh, whatever. Sign me up! :D (My current idea is that I'll be kind of a beggar/homeless person lurking in the shadows character, due to my circumstances I explain below.)

 

I'm not going to have access to internet on my computer for most of this game, so I'll have to play on mobile. Which means I'll have to do short posts and not the long explanations/theories/lists/vote tallies(well, I guess I could do vote tallies)/suspicions-trusts lists/plans I post pretty often. So just ignore me as I lurk please.  :ph34r:

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Lorien walked into the library, something people didn't often do. "I would like a book of monsters please," He asked Bugsy. "I need one that has facts and not something that is made up," Parth said quickly. He got his hook from Bugsy and left to go to his home. There, he sat down and started reading it. Tomorrow he would go to the blacksmith to get his helmet. "I hope I'm not right about what I saw today," What he saw while guarding the village, was a pair of eyes in the forest.

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A slight Rule Change I want everyone to be aware of before the game begins!

The Whitecloak role now sends in their action during the Day cycle, declaring who they want to target during the Night.

 

And a preemptive clarification:

In any instances of a Whitecloak jailing a Dreamwalker who enters the dream world that night, the Dreamwalker still goes there, and can still be targeted by the Forsaken and killed, but only the Forsaken can target them.
 

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A slight Rule Change I want everyone to be aware of before the game begins!

The Whitecloak role now sends in their action during the Day cycle, declaring who they want to target during the Night.

 

And a preemptive clarification:

In any instances of a Whitecloak jailing a Dreamwalker who enters the dream world that night, the Dreamwalker still goes there, and can still be targeted by the Forsaken and killed, but only the Forsaken can target them.

 

 

So does the player who gets Detained for that Night get notified of that when the Night begins?

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Bugsy was somewhat annoyed. For the first time in weeks, someone had come to the library, and they had asked not for true literature, but rather a book of what seemed like fairy tales. The man quickly stipulated that he wasn't looking for fakes or myths, but rather scholarly accounts of any paranormal creatures in the surrounding area, however, easing Bugsy's bad mood slightly. Tomes such as the ones requested were rare, but together they searched until they found one they mutually deemed satisfactory. As they had searched, Parth had filled him in on what he had seen (or thought he had seen) in the woods the previous night. Glowing eyes, bloodshot like those of a wolf, yet all too human shaped for comfort. Bugsy tried to ease the growing discomfort he felt, but he couldn't seem to take his mind off the vivid description. For some reason, it felt familiar. Was it, perhaps, from one of his dreams? If so, danger could truly abound. Normally, he would have dismissed the thought as mere paranoia and speculation, but a day spent combing through tome after tome filled with the unnatural, he could not dismiss anything lightly. Plus, an inner voice whispered that his paranoia would be very important very, very soon

Again, apologies if my RP was completely inconsistent with the host world. Looking back, there are likely monsters in this book considering it's setting, so my character might seem a bit off in that last post. Still, I'm hoping the monsters wouldn't be considered monsters, per say, any more than sharks or lions or any creature of our world, regardless of their apparent monstrosity to other worlders

Edited by Bugsy6912
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