Saint Acantha (OOC/Sign-Ups)

Introductory Story:

The air was always coldest at night. Even with the slightly warm summer breeze through the whispering forests on the outskirts of the city, the residents’ blood ran brisk with paranoia and fear. The sky always seemed back-dropped with a grayish tint, as if their very lives were merely small parts in some eternal tragedy written by the greatest brooding author Himself. Many turned to Him in these times for guidance, but the forlornness of the city was too despairing to withstand. She was a towering city, built of old stone and gray cement, the cobble streets nearly antiques in themselves. She was named for her very founder, Saint Acantha, the very woman believed to have been an angel descended from Heaven. A century after her death, however, the city was plagued with a great disease when the air began to grow cold as winter neared. Eventually, the rivers leading into the city froze, the wildlife in the forests disappeared almost completely, and the roads leading to neighboring cities were overtaken by grass tree roots, leaving nothing but more forest.

Those who were on the outside of the royal circle in St. Acantha were forced to endure the winter, many children and elders passing away from sickness as labor. In the royal circle, however, the wealthiest of the citizens were supplied with the best medical care and served the freshest of imported meals, remaining separated from the outlying peasants. At night, the castle located in the center of the ancient city could be seen with windows alight with life and even merriment, the the gates leading to it remained shut. No one was ever seen going in, and no one ever left. Rumors had spread that the entire Royal Family had passed on years ago, and perhaps a subordinate had taken the throne for themselves. Only a few decades later did the first bit of news from St. Acantha's Castle pass on to the citizens of the city. The first message post stated that workers were needed to tend to the castle, which of course would be a great opportunity for the lesser Acanthans if they knew what they would be getting themselves into.

Synopsis: I'm basically setting the RP in an Olden-Times fantasy land, which will include a castle run/owned by some twisted duke/duchess/monarch/patriarch, who happens to have a special power of some sort to where anyone who is brought to the castle as a worker, guard, servant, etc. is bound to it for the rest of eternity, since the ruler somehow feeds off of the life of the people around him/her. That's why they continue to stay in power. The plot, of course, is open for discussion, so don't be afraid to ask any questions because I don't really know how this will turn out either. And as someone said, this is going to be more of a Gothic/dystopian style, which basically means the focus will be more on the people and their issues/how they deal with the ominous situation rather than trying to save the city from the 'bad guy. And FYI, there won't be any magic in this story, except for the 'bad guy' feeding off of other people's energy.

St. Acantha: It's just a big Gothic-style city, with one outer ring (where the peasants live) and one inner ring (where the wealthier class lives, the castle placed in the exact center and surrounded by a large stone wall with a gate). The forest almost completely surrounds the city, but the area that is clear leads to the pastures and countryside that is bordered by a large ocean. So, that means traveling out of town would be rather difficult without a boat or a map through the forest. (Then again, who would really make a map of a forest, right?)

Rules: Think 12th Century. What kind of people would be found in the 12th Century? Yes, that's right, keep you characters within the time constraint when it comes to clothing, dialogue, etc. And I hope I don't have to explain EVERY rule (which everyone SHOULD know since they already signed up for this forum), but I have to say cursing is allowed (but not to an excessive/ridiculous extent) and adult themes will be in the story somewhere, though I will not allow any cybering or the sort.

Character Skeleton:

Player: (Your Username)

Name: (Your character's full name)

Age: (Your character's age; range or exact)

Appearance: (ALL text; be in-depth because this sample of your writing skill will decide whether or not you are allowed to post.)

Personality: (I really don't care how long this is.)

Biography: (Character background; can be full or brief)

Other: (Anything else? Fears, Attachments, etc.?)

P.S., Don't tell me you're going to post a character if you never will, and don't tell me to reserve a spot if you aren't going to be active. Quite frankly, it pisses me off.

Player: Eternity

Name: Amy Leigh Askew

Age: 19

Appearance: Standing a height of 5'6, Amy is a small yet curvy woman. She has the look of innocence about her, almost like an aura. She has softly tanned skin from her time outside, and long black hair that falls in silky cocoa-colored curls and spirals to the center of her back. Her body is unmarked, save for a few scars along her leg that she doesn't like to talk about. Amy has a calming face. Her cheekbones are high and her overall structure is prominent, almost exotic, in nature. Her brows are thin but long and exaggerating- easily portraying her emotion. Her eyes are almond shaped with a larger curve to the upper lid and long tips that give her the 'cat eye' affect at the edge without the use of charcoal eyeliner. The hue of her irises is a smooth green tone, the color of emeralds in the shade. From a distance they may look brown because of their dark color. Lower upon her face is a small softly pointed nose, and then a set of full lips, her upper lip being prominent in a unique fashion that allows her a more regal upper-class femininity to her features.

Personality: Amy is sweet and timid, but for reasons that elude most. She is a recluse, loving to learn and read. Her mind is constantly pulling at the complex, and readying to push her forward again. Because of a broken past she has an amazing sense of responsibility and will-power. Amy can and will do about anything if its what she is supposed to do. Otherwise, she is generous, and has a great tolerance for all walks of life and the people who travel these walks.

Biography: Amy was born to a wealthy merchant father and an artist mother. She was a famed ''prophet'' painter, creating visions of the future. She was beautiful and wise in her workings, and many were delighted to purchase something of this woman's. And her father, her father would sell her mother's art, raking in quite a lifestyle...
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Growing up was, easy... to say the least. At least up until the age of about eleven. Then, Amy began to see things too. But it wasn't the future; actually, it wasn't even real. Her mind was poisoned with a strange disease, plaguing her to auditory and visual hallucination. But during this day and age, no one could diagnosis her. Instead, she was ridiculed as insane, having some off form curse of her mother's psychic gift.
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As she grew up, she realized that she had no great ability, and finding a job was hard with her past haunting her. Thus, she has lowered her standards and stepped forward from her haven of a home, to be a simple personal maid for hire. She cleans, cooks, nurses, and whatever else need be of her. Anything to get her away from her over-protective parents and the fear-filled criticisms of the rest of the world...

Other:
-Suffers from auditory and visual hallucinations (caused by a small tumor in the sensory perception of her brain). She can as well 'feel' things that aren't there (but not very often). Touches, hot or cold, etc.etc...

Player: Aesalon

Name: Francis Diovan (Vicar of the Holy Order)

Age: 37

Appearance: Vicar Diovan is of above average height (6'2") but looks to be gaunt and drawn. (Weighing only 155 lbs) At one time he was a muscular man, but those muscles appear to have eroded, leaving him with a loose look to the skin on his arms and thighs. His face shows the same emaciation as the rest of his body, his high cheekbones and sallow skin coupled with his shaved head and a 4 inch scar above his right ear have given him a slightly monstrous visage. The only feature remaining on the man that could be considered handsome are his piercing blue eyes that seem to glow in diffused sunlight. Vicar Diovan wears the hooded silver robe of the Vicarage over common peasants tunic and trousers when he is outside of the church or in his own apartments. He is seen wearing the golden Prelate's Robe on Sabbath and High Holidays. (See biography section.)

Personality: Francis Diovan is a man with the weight of a city on his shoulders, a responsibility that he takes on with a stern resolve. While he cares deeply about the people and their suffering, he is awkward in conversation anywhere but the pulpit. The Vicar is on the edge of despair, feeling that he is not up to the situation placed before him, this melancholy is obvious to anyone who interacts with him outside of the walls of the church.

Biography: Francis Diovan was born into a family of woodcutters, and seemed destined to continue as such until one day a vision of the Blessed Acnatha herself appeared to him - in this vision, she held the city in her hand and moved to hand the entire city over to him. Feeling that he had been called to serve, Francis immediatly began studies in the nearby Abbey. He proved to be a quick study of the Scripture and his rise to Vicar was extremely quick. It was not long after his ordination that Elder Vicar Rein disappeared, then within a year Vicar Klein was missing as well. The work of the entire church had fallen to two men - and within a month, Prelate Grogan was missing as well. Francis wrote desperate letters for the Bishop to send another Prelate, but they have gone unanswered for nearly a year - after a time, he felt that he had no other choice than to stand in the spot of the Prelate, knowing that the Church could execute him for stepping beyong his boundries.

Other: Francis feels that he is in the midst of a great war of faith, and he has a tendency to see everything in black and white with little room for morally grey.

Player: Hello Danger

Name: Bartholomew Ward

Age: 22

Appearance: Bartholomew Ward is an average looking man, with a symmetrical face, and no distinguishing facial features (no beauty marks, scars, etc.), other than a stubbly beard that grows in patches. He has stringy or thin, unkempt, auburn hair that falls just to his shoulders, and a lanky, skinny, or linear appearance, with small muscles, and narrow shoulders, hips and waist. Bartholomew typically is seen in drab, or dull colored, peasant clothing that's a rip or tear from rags.

Personality: Sharp, witty, selfish, and slightly dark.

Biography: Bartholomew Ward was born to Edith Ward, daughter of a farmer, and Baldwin Ward, an inner city guard. His dear mother died giving birth to him, leaving him to be raised by his father. Baldwin Ward became a depressed drunk, who resented poor Bartholomew, holding him responsible for his wife's death, and verbally and physically abused his son for it. At the age of sixteen his father was arrested, being accused of assaulting a noble woman while on patrol. He was killed several weeks later during an attempt to escape custody. Bartholomew was forced to the streets, where he grew up quick; thieving, fighting, and lying his whole way through.

Other: Bartholomew has a small street act, where he preforms cheap parlor tricks (fake magic) for anyone that will pay one shilling to watch.

my profile is now complete. Thanks for the patience.

Thanks to all of you for your interest in this story and characters that will keep it going. You are all accepted. Well, here's my character:

Player: Koi in the River

Name: Ofelia Beaufort

Age: 21

Appearance: Ofelia could be considered slightly tall for a female, standing at about 5'8 naturally, with a build that could be sculpted from nothing other than a short life of field work and such. She seems to be a sturdy woman, features softened since her early adolescence. Her face being a gentle heart shape was suited to have ovular eyes, the irises nearly black. Her skin retained a deep caramel complexion and her features take on a slightly more ethnic shape than most others'. Bistre hair is wild with thick tight curls, thus compelling her to pull most of it back into a secure ribbon save for a few stray locks. Lips are pert and pronounced and her chin has a feminine cleft, her clothing mostly consisting of various corseted black dresses free of sleeves, though decorated with plenty of laces and ruffles at the skirts. Her rounded, widened hips and thighs matched a proportionate bust and legs, both hands adorned with black lace gloves to conceal the scarring on her long, slender hands.

Personality: Ofelia is overall a confused individual, always jumping to conclusions, worrying about small obstacles, and never accepting one single answer for anything. However, she is a surprisingly optimistic woman, though mostly due to the fact that she doesn't handle being aware of difficult situations very well. She constantly worries about how she appears to other people, being slightly insecure at the most inopportune times.

Biography: Ofelia was still in her mother's womb when her family relocated to Saint Acartha from some country in the west, before forests blocked the traveling roads. Her family was large, consisting of both her grandparents, parents, and four younger brothers. However, during her eighth winter in the city, her father, mother, and grandfather became very sick, only her mother living to see the next summer. Afterward, Ofelia was enrolled in a highly religious school as a way to get out of the house, though was often beaten because of her inability to keep quiet, thus leaving her with permanent scars on her hands, wrists, and ankles where the overseers struck her with thorned vines.

Without her father, and no able bodies to tend the fields in the countryside where her family lived, the years were harsh. Her grandmother attempted to work in the city to afford medical care for her mother, and miraculously made enough money one fall to give Ofelia a birthday present: a violin. Ofelia spent most of her remaining life practicing, and by her sixteenth year began playing as a profession for numerous noble families. Then finally, her grandmother realized she wanted Ofelia to have a life away from the sickness in her family, and had her sent to the city's castle as a court musician by age twenty-one.

Other: Ofelia has a great fear of the dark, often sleeping with a lit lantern in her room. Her only keepsake is a silver eight-pointed star that hangs from a small white chain around her neck, the edges lined in sapphire.


Edit: Whoah, I just realized there was a HUGE error in the title, bu tit's fixed now.

So I think our baddie should be a female (in appearance at least) and we should just steal from multiple magical creatures to create our own badass evil doer.

- Baobhan Sith:
The Baobhan Sith are the old Scottish form of vampires. They appear as beautiful young women who kill men by dancing with them until the men are too weak to resist their powers.

- Ch'ing Shih:
A Chinese vampire that has poisonus breath.

- Jaracara:
Jaracara are snake-like vampires from Brazil.

- Krvopijac:
Vampires from Bulgaria. They are most easily identified by the fact that they have one nostril.


- Wampir:
Wampirs come from Russia. They do not use fangs to drink the blood of their victims, but use a special stinger that is located under their tongue.

-Cailleach Bheur
or The Blue Hag, lives in Scotland. She is the bringer of winter. She carries a staff with her that freezes whatever it touches, and prevents flowers from ever growing on that spot again.

-Siren
Creatures with beautiful voices, that can take a human's mind with their song.

-Shapshifter
You get the idea

Those are just some cool characteristics that we could take from. What do you all think?

Literate Angel, you are accepted, and Hello Danger, those all sound like good choices. I'll leave it up to the actual person who's playing as the baddie to decide what style we're going by.

Oh, my bad. I wasn't aware someone was going to be taking that role. Figured you be playing it, and you were up for ideas. Sorry

Oh no! I'm totally accepting ideas. I was just going to give the person who was going to play as the baddie more creative freedom so they won't feel like I'm taking over their character. But, since no one's taking that spot, I guess I'll just play that character then. Sorry if it seemed like I was brushing off your idea, because it's actually very helpful. That being said, I'll have the baddie character up soon.

So...this still going down or...no?

Yeah, sorry... I'm in the middle of a move and I've lately been going home at 12 o'clock at night... So I'm not going to bother posting the baddie's profile, but I will reveal their tidbits in the IC thread, which will hopefully be posted later tonight. Sorry again for the delay, everyone.

No worries. Take your time. I was just curious.

Good news! i finally got the IC thread up here: http://www.footstepsofghosts.com/advanced-role-playing-f14/saint-acantha-t676.htm#13243

However, I'm not sure it should remain in the advanced section, seeing as though for the first few responses there might not be enough activity IC-wise for four-paragraph posts. Thoughts?

As the IC Mod, I'd say that you actually let things get into it a bit. After about page one, if things aren't on the level of Advanced, I can move it into Casual

I think I'm going to have Bart try and sneak into the castle, and that's how he gets into the mix of things.

?

Okay, thanks, Eternity. It helps to have a mod working with us here.

And Hello Danger, that sounds like a pretty good idea. Go for it.

Don't tell me I was too slow with the IC and people have dropped out! T-T

May I still join??? I would like to be a baddie...

Sure! If SOME PEOPLE would care to assist me in getting the story going. *Cough-cough*Peoplewithcharactersalreadymade*Cough-cough*!!! ._.

Just thought I'd throw my profile in before this thing finally takes off.

Player:Regicidal

Name: Girard Arluin

Age: 25

Appearance: Girard stands at a healthy five feet, ten inches tall with an amazingly broad-shouldered build. Broad enough that he was told that during birth, he had to be cut from his mothers womb for his shoulders were too wide. That aspect was one that never left him. Below his shoulders he maintained that stature, building muscle over years of grunt-work and less than favorable jobs. Often stringy, jet black hair fall down to his shoulders on all sides, forcing him to brush the loose strands behind his ears whenever they become a nuisance. It is a shame, really, that his hair falls in front of his face so often, for his eyes are a brilliant blue (a rarity for the region) that shine like the shallow waters of the Caribbean on a cloudless day.

As for clothing, he is usually in keeping with a dark-colored tunic and trousers. Whatever he can afford at the time, and a dark brown leather traveling cloak, complete with a deep hood that almost completely conceals his face when he doesn't need to be easily noticed. Cheap, but well worn leather boots protect his feet through his travels. He carries two blades, the first being a Scottish broad sword hanging from his hip via a thick leather belt, and a dagger sheathed horizontally at the small of his back by the same belt.

Personality: Despite his history and previous occupations, Girard is an all too friendly being. He isn't too shy to step up and attempt to make friends in a tavern, or pay the right maiden just the attention she needs at the end of a rough day. After all, how is one to find odd-jobs if they are not charismatic enough to be approachable in the dark corners of the taverns?

Biography: In short, the memory of his life started at age five. All he knew of his parents was that they traveled a lot, and that his mother had died during childbirth, and his father had supposedly taken his own life shortly thereafter in a fit of grief over the loss of his beloved. So, he was raised a peasant far from Acantha by an elderly couple that were supposedly very good friends of his parents. Once he came of age to work, he did just that. At around eleven he was performing the physical labor that most late teenagers were struggling with. "Built like an Ox," they said when he hauled buckets of water that a grown man would have had trouble with.

During what little spare time he had, Girard found himself pulled towards the Town-guards, yearning for knowledge of the sword. Now, they weren't going to let him practice with one of the swords from the armory, so he was given an old rusted thing from a different region. Unlike their weapons, it's blade was slightly broader, with a brass cage that surrounded his fist. He could see inside the cage where it had once been lined with some form of fabric. At the time it seemed pointless to pay attention too, so he proceeded to practice day in and day out with the guards on everything from footwork to swordplay. However because of the difference in his sword (mainly due to the fact that the cage around the hilt didn't allow for rolling motions that spun the blade) he adapted the lessons to his own usage.

It was around his fifteenth year that he was giving the guards a run for their money, a feat that was quickly recognized by passing nobles. It doesn't take a sharp mind to realize that a well honed blade without any affiliations is a valuable commodity among nobles. Girard never remembered the Noble's name, only that he wore a long, silken white tunic that spoke of money. Money that he willingly took for the simple task of making sure that shipments of miscellaneous merchandise made it across the town to the inner keep of the overlooking castle without a fuss. Time and time again Girard's worth was proven against thieves. By nineteen, he was being approached by travelers for jobs. The choice to accept those was the choice that drove him from his 'home town' for the rest of his life. For you see, when word travels that you have slain a noble for money, the guards of towns don't openly accept you. So, Girard was forced to accept jobs as a traveler himself, still raking in a fair amount of coin, only he no longer had a home to call his own.

With that weight on his shoulders, he let his travels lead him far away from his place of birth. And over the course of many years he found himself in an out of jobs of all degrees, mostly ones having to do with the blade, but there was the occasional odd job that didn't. It wasn't long before he had completely refurbished the blade of his sword, and lined the cage of its hilt with a soft animal hide that was much more comfortable. Though he was never able to find the darkened red fabric that had originally been, as evidenced by the frayed remains around the edges of the cage. Eventually Girard's travels brought him to Acantha, where our story begins.

Other: If his history doesn't make it clear, he has a rather strong attachment to the sword he was given as a youngster. He has no clue why he is so attached, but he has killed for the weapon before, and would not hesitate to do so again.

I'm sorry, I somehow missed my 'new' flags for this

I will work out a post today, I mean it!

Regicidal, you are free to post if you still have the desire to.

The desire is still there, I assure you. Thanks.

However, I am beginning to wonder if there is anyone else who has the desire to continue the story....

Yes, the silence is somewhat deafening...I think I hear crickets.

Hell, I think the crickets have gotten bored and found other threads to listen in on by now.