Forums / Roleplaying / THE VILLAGE - THE NEW WORLD

Major Valan Septim, a former cavalry officer from Cidel, was below deck. His family sword, Firengard, was at his side. He was a grizzled old soldier with several small scars on his face and one long scar stretching from his forehead down under his eye-patch to his mid-cheek. He looked to be around forty years of age, and he had obviously seen his fair share of action. As he got up from his seat on a small box, a minor limp marked his step where an arrow had struck his leg many years before. It did not affect his riding, but it had a small effect on his running ability. He soon approached a younger man, who turned to look the old soldier in the eye.
"Well Deallus, I believe a new life can be made here. I am tired of fighting for a country that gives nothing back to its soldiers," said Valan with his rough voice.

"I support whoever has a good head on their shoulders," said Valan as he looked around, "If you give me a dumb order, I sure as hell won't listen. So if you're a smart man, you have my support..."

"You and I are a lot alike. I did not start off with this rank, Sadron, I earned it. You know how I got these scars? Well, there's a story behind each and every one of them. I'll tell you about the one I'm most proud of, this one," said Septim as he pointed to the one that went over his no longer existing eye, "My second horse, Jorlan, was killed by a pikeman. I managed to get off and kill the pikeman, along with two swordsmen, before a man on a horse rode up to me. I dodged two lance attacks before dismounting him with a fallen pikeman's pike. I didn't know that he was the Crown Prince of Valkond and his father's only heir, but I wouldn't have cared anyway. I drew Firengard right there and attacked. He was no pushover, his father's men taught him well. I dueled him for two minutes until he got a strike in, slashing upwards, his blade went from my cheek to my eyebrow, cutting my eye open. I fell to the ground, it hurt a lot, I was young then, not as used to pain as I am now. And as he walked up to me to do a finishing blow, I picked up the chopped off end of the pike and drove it into his neck. His "royal" blood went everywhere. It wasn't until after the battle that I found out who he was, got the Star of Cidel for that. I'm no noble's son, boy, I earned everything I have..."

"I look forward to fighting for people I know and like instead of fat nobles living safely in their castles..." muttered Septim as he pulled a flask from his jacket. He took a swig, then turned his head to face Deallus.
"Water, I quit drinking years ago when I still felt pain..." said Septim.

*Ranraac looked at the rest of the crew as he sat below the deck of the ship. He saw that the people seemed very friendly with each other and most people were chatting merrily amongst themselves. He quietly examined them from under the hood of his robe, thinking quietly.

Ranraac was a young, quiet man who kept to himself most of the time. He had a rugged appearance but was always covered with a hood. His robe was black and tattered in places. He also carried a White Oak staff with a curious red gem on top and a knife at his belt.. The gem on the staff was very symbolic to him and was actually a Ruby. Ranraac also specialised in Fire Spells, although he knew spells from all schools of magic.

Ranraac's quiet nature and dark robes had earned him the nickname of 'Wraith' among the others on the ship. Wraith was one of the few mages on this voyage and due to his experience he had been given the title of Head Mage. Although he thought it was a bit strange to have a leader over 3 people, he didn't argue. It wasn't in his nature to do so. He had silently nodded at the time.

Keeping his thoughts to himself, Ranraac mused to himself and wondered how much longer the boat trip would take.*

Demonsul stood by the wheel. Officially, he did not have to be, but he was more than happy to stay near the central control point of the ship.
Looking down onto the deck, Demonsul was glad to see that the selection of men he had been given were getting along. The last thing he needed on this colonization trip was nation-related arguments.
Looking at the chart he had taken earlier, Demonsul ran his finger along the ink line that was their route. It came to rest quite close to the end. Hopefully, they would be reaching land soon.

What could they wan now? thought Demonsul. Those map makers kept taking up his time, but they were doing practically nothing. Thy had no maps to make.
But he didn't have much choice. Demonsul went below to see them.

Valan Septim soon got up and limped over to a section of the ship where a total of thirty-four men were sitting around.
"Alright men! My name is Valan Septim, I'm going to be your commander on the battlefield. I've seen and done a lot men, you can trust me, and if you don't, you soon will. You can call me Captain, Sir, or Septim, but not Valan. That are for my friends, and at the moment I don't know any of you," said Valan Septim.
"Yes sir," said a few men half-heartedly.
Septim didn't say anything as he limped away. He merely let a small smile form.
Bunch of cherries...

Hirgon walked out onto the lower deck, and spotted Electric talking to Demonsul.  He strode over, and said to both of them, "I have a proposition for research once we land, if I may; I am sure the captain has some projects he that are more important, but I would like to try to get this near the top of the list.  My archers are excellent with their bows, but we may come up against beasts that don't go down easily.  Would you consider research into poisons and their antidotes?  It will also be useful if we end up scouting through wild terrain.  Oh, and if we do end up roaming through wild terrain, my men could aid the scholars in gathering plants, herbs, and the like."

Rhade stretched and wandered up onto the deck for a bit, taking in the views that the water offered.  Even having lived in Norway all his life, he'd gotten to see little of the seas, but now was enthralled by them.  He'd only been sailing for about two months before news of this venture had reached him.  A chance to sail for this long, a chance to leave Norway, those were things Rhade could not turn down.

He was a large man, having worked in the lumbermills most of his life, and could have a rather intimidating presence on those who did not know him.  Few among the two-hundred plus men he would command were larger, but any man who could put in a hard day's work would earn his respect.  Rhade was not quick to anger, but once riled he held a grudge like a bulldog held its victim.

Having had his fill of the salty air for now Rhade meandered slowly back down below deck and sat with his labourers, joining them for a drink and conversation.  They'd be the backbone of this new land, and it was important to Rhade that each of them knew that.  He'd connected with most of the men on some level already, but always kept in mind that he needed to keep enough distance to be seen not only as a friend, but as a leader.

Rhade leaned over to one of the men sitting next to him, an older man by the name of Arthur, and began speaking with him.  "Now, when we first head out, it's likely the Captain'll want some kind of at least rudimentary shelter before we even get started on building anything permanant, which'll take a lot longer.  If you'll make sure the tarp and ropes are ready to go for tents I'll work on preparing enough tools to clear away what is supposed to be some relatively dense terrain, at least in some places."

Arthur nodded, not much of a talker from what Rhade had come to know.  He respected him for it though; Arthur said what he needed to, when he needed to say it, and not much else.  After that short conversation and a little bull*beep*ting with the other men at the table Rhade stood and began walking towards the lower deck where he'd seen the captain earlier.  He needed to make sure they were on the same page.

[[OOC: And here I thought I was doing it wrong. XD]]

[[OOC: Salaracen has let me join :D]]

John D. Wilberforce a man of questionable legitability it is said. A shady looking character they said, behind his back, with reason too it seems. Known by his friends as Wilber, he had lived in the poorest region of the large city Turmonis. He survived by stealing, killing, maiming. Whatever he did, he did it to survive and due to his experiences, he had a few scars to match that cavalry officer's scars.
With experiences such as his, it was always wise to carry around a dagger or two, just incase any situation arose where he could be threatened. These daggers had served him well during his time in the army. He had killed his commanding officer with these for attempting to give him 100 lashes and fleed the country of his origin.

The more intelligent people knew best to avoid even eye-contact with the man. Wearing his tattered hood and cloak. He also carried around his original armour and the crest of his regiment, although rusty and worn from his escape. He had to hide in an ice pocket under the ice in a river for 24 hours with the risk of being captured and executed. That was the past however.

John D. Wilberforce was a huge muscular build, towering over the average man with an insane pain threshhold (with was caused by the intense freezing cold temperature in the water) to match. He was a powerful man to be recogned with indeed and could easily out pace any other labourer.

Indeed, many where afraid of him, thus got the work done on time... every time.

He had been placed along with Rhade as a co-master labourer. He probably would not see eye to eye with Rhade, or the man he called Arthur.

Electric limped down from the quarter-deck and fell on the last 4 steps.He didn't get up, but instead fell asleep until a large wave splashed on him.He woke up and looked and thought he saw land.He gazed at it and saw it was only a log.

Wait, if there's a log..there has to be land somewhere near here! He thought. He yelled to his men to look at it. They confirmed it was a log, but that it was very rotten. as it passed the boat, they saw it was a strange log. One of them jumped over-board with a rope and pulled the log towards the boat. he climbed up the rope after typing the log to it, and helped the other men pull it up. They examined the wood and could not confirm what it was.

Electric heard Hirgon's proposal, and ignored it, because he already had many weak acids and strong sleeping-poisons.After about 5 minutes after they had towed the log on board, a strange creature jumped out of the log and started biting and snapping at everyone.

"KILLER!!!" Electric screamed, "HELP!!!!".

Killer heard the cries of Electric, and wandered over just as Septim caught it. He pondered a while, and then answered Septim's question. "I believe it is the young of a Florg, a strange creature descended from a frog. That one looks like a juvenille. I've only seen one of them, long ago, an adult, but I guess that's what it is. It is fairly large in comparison to the frog as you see, the size of a kitten or such like, and the juvenille is much the same size, with a short tail. Of course, it still starts off as a tadpole and it grows for a much longer time than their cousins. I'm sure your surprised at it being an amphibian, due to that fair bit of hair there, which is odd. It's a mutation of some sort of frog, not sure which, and it gradually grew bigger over the centuries. It mostly lives in trees, its legs are adapted to hold onto braches. It used to eat flies and such, but it can't really sustain itself on the little ones you see, it eats larger insects that it can find, and they are fairly rare, most tadpoles being eaten by their brothers and sisters when they hatch. It's even got fairly large teeth, but their jaws are incredibly weak, and the teeth are blunt, it would hardly do much damage to a human. Anyway Septim, I'm sure you're getting frustrated from my idle chatter and want to get away from it, so get up and I'll take it from you."
             Septim gladly got up and handed it to Killer. Killer ordered one of his men to get a box, and Killer gently put it into it, taking care not to damage its weak legs. He found a spider's web, the dead spider in the centre with many flies ensnared on the sticky entrapment. He fed the Florg with the insects and it fell asleep with the brief glimmer of sun up in the sky, resting and relying on the sun to warm it up, it hadn't enough fur to keep itself warm in these cooler climes. He let it rest awhile, and the wondered what to do with it. It could not really be trained as such, it was not intelligent enough for that, and he decided to let it go, once they reached land of couse, unless a person on board the ship expressed a keen interest to raise it, and they did not mistreat it. It could be useful for keeping away the flies, he mused. He decided that they must be fairly close to the island by this stage, as it would not have survived for too long otherwise, even though the creatures had adapted to live for a short while in the sea-water, they were still at home in ponds and the like. He fell asleep with the creature in his lap in the box, being warmed the sun and sheltered from the icy winds by the shelter of the box.

[[OOC: Not I, and I think The Village should be an RP that only Sal should run...I wouldn't want another Stormborn-like thing to happen(where we end up adding another 3 RPs to the series until we think we put a bullet in the head of it) Wish Ragnarr was around...]]

[Salaracen, can you do something, please? This was going well]

Emerging from the shadows, Wilber wondered what had happened during the time he had been sleeping in the hold. Pondering who to ask yet and noticing the cavalry officer, Major Septim. Another blood officer, Wilber thought to himself.
"Oi, Septim. What is going on? Are we nearly there yet?"

[['Septim turned to look at Wilber with his eye,'

Septim? XD Isn't that a tad obvious? You can't really look at him with your foot, can you?]]

Noticing the blatant frown, Wilber slipped out his dagger, not showing it to Septim but concealing it under his loose sleeve, where he could still cause a deep wound.
"You got something to say?"

[[Nah...he just is dangerous when talked to.  Perfectly normal]]

Septim’s mouth curled as he stared down Wilber, forming a smile.
“Sure I do, you’re a cherry bastard until you prove otherwise. So get the hell out of my face,” said Septim with no fear. He could sense the dagger on Wilber, but he was never one to be intimidated.

[[OOC: I believe this is appropriate, given my title of Hawk eye...]]

Hirgon spotted Wilber draw the dagger under his sleeve from across the deck.  He sprung to where one of his archers stood (this man happened to be the youngest of the lot), took the man's bow, and pinned Wilber's sleeve to the mast with a single arrow.

"Oops, sorry about that," he said with an innocent look.  "I was just giving this youngster tips on quick-drawing and shooting.  I don't want you to think I'm a lily-livered, half-brained coward who'd draw a weapon on one of the members of this community, or anything like that.  I think we both know that if too many of us start doing things like that, we'll all end up dead.  Let's hope no one with that short-sighted of a view of things is on board, shall we?"

[[Sorry about the lag in my presence here, Age of Empires 3 has taken my attention...]]

As Demonsul descended to the map charters quarters on the lower part of the ship he noticed a large map spread out on the table ahead.
"Captain, finally, we begun to worry for a while there" Said one of the map assistants huddled around the table.
Demonsul was pulled towards the table. "Here sir, this is the map, we have 3 landing zones for you to choose from"


[[Demonsul, please choose a destination, it doesn't really matter where you choose (In other words, just because you choose a certain location wont mean you miss out on being eaten by something) ]]

"This is all that was written on the map, I guess it means that these are the only spots that we are able to land at?" Beia said.

[[Dammit I thought he'd be back by now...]]