Hey, random person who was unfortunate enough to miss this RPG! You’re in luck, because signups are still currently open, and you can do so here. All the cool boards members are doing it! We even have @Pakari!
Now go sign up or I will personally see to it that your life is one of misery and your death is both painful and prolonged.
This is the RP topic for the Sovereign: New Age RPG. Please keep OOC comments to a comparative minimum.
“I’ve been breathing air, but there’s no sign of life.”
-Cage the Elephant, Cold Cold Cold
It is raining.
The city is dead.
Or at least, mostly.
In normal locations, the group gathered in the massive terrace would appear, to most onlookers, large.
This is no normal location.
For at least half a mile around, what was once a city is nothing more than a leveled field of debris and ruin. To the west, the world ends, dropping in a jagged, rubble-strewn edge. Towards the east, north, and south, collapsing buildings forming a parody of a skyline.
Both the silence and the emptiness are deafening, dwarfing the group on the terrace.
The platform you stand on was a theater, now the only building left standing in what was once a rich neighborhood. It is octagonal in shape, with four sets of stone stairs leading up on four opposite sides. Eight marble pillars at each vertex, streaked with an inlay of some sort of green metal, hold up the massive dome that is the ceiling, made of the same green metal.
Like a school for adolescents, the figures on the platform are distinctly segregated by their faction. A single figure from each is standing slightly apart. The man in red robes breaks the silence. His voice is not loud, but it carries in the deafening quiet.
“The Scholars of the College of the Red City welcome our compatriots, who so proposed this expedition.” He steps forward. Almost in unison, as if to not seem outdone, the Representatives from the other two groups salute and step forward, to the stone pedestal in the center of the pavilion. The three tentatively shake hands, and seem to confer in low voices.
For Scholars only
The Representative of the Scholars is Raest Arcades - one of the most upstanding mage-scholars of Sulgent. Most of you have spent many of your years with the Scholars training under him, as pupils in a college, acolytes to learn the art of Sunstones, or spies-in-training.
For Kingdom only
The Representative of the Kingdoms is Aron Vaughn - the front lines general that is largely considered responsible for the prevention of Achilles from accomplishing his conquest on the shores of Rhaske. Some of you have served under him as soldiers, others know him as a higher ranking politician.
For Alliance only
The Representative of the Alliance is Anji Scane, a former insurrectionist. It is likely that you barely know her. Most of you were simply contacted by her for your expertise in a certain skillset.
After a moment, the Scholar Representative steps forward again, and turns to address the three groups. He is dressed in Sulgent maroon robes with a significantly shortened train to keep from snagging on the rubble. He is smiling, sickeningly wide.
“Comrades! You all know why we are here. To delve down into the depths of this city, to uncover the technology that is rightfully ours, that was held from us by The Tyrant, Achilles himself.” The speech is obviously a practiced one, but the emphasis on ours seems to be accompanied by an ever so subtle nod to his own scholars. “I’ll be frank: some of you will die. Others will be injured, maimed, or otherwise permanently damaged. But it will be worth it - for not only do you support your nation, your school, your homeland, but you help the world prepare for the coming age. Your names will be remembered in the annals of history.” His voice, practiced over years of speeches in one of the largest amphitheaters in the world, makes it hard not to feel stirred. If it is possible, he smiles wider. “And of course, the riches you find down there are yours to keep.” This finally raises a smattering of applause from a band of mercenaries in the Alliance group. “Now, my esteemed …” the pause is nearly imperceptible, but no less condescending, “… colleague, the Chevalier Vaughn, will explain certain protocols.”
The Kingdom Representative steps forward, a thin-lipped smile on his face. His chain mail armor shines in the misting rain, and turns his brown hair a shade closer to black. His voice is naturally hoarse over years of shouting orders.
“We’re bringing what food and water we can afford to carry - a week’s rations or so. However, we’re betting on there being supplies that may still be usable since they’ve been sealed off. That’s our first destination: the old storehouses. If they’ve been compromised, then we’ll have to return to the surface and rethink our strategy.
“Light: We have no idea how much visibility there’ll be down there. We know Achilles had developed some sort of light-producing technology, but we don’t know if it’ll still be operational. As such, instead of torches, which are flammable for underground gases, our … colleagues … from Sulgent have agreed to provide us with Sunstones.” He gestures to a crate by the central pillar. “These will provide us with the ability to see. They are powered by absorbed light, and will need to be recharged every so often. Before you enter the city, take one.
“And finally, discipline: Infighting is punishable by whip. Theft of supplies of any kind will be punishable by whip. Cowardice is punishable by whip. Insubordination is punishable by whip. And desertion … you know the rules.
“Questions?”