Salpaetrius Rising Roleplay

[Sheep_Archer]

Rumors are quietly spreading in the taverns and markets of Calradia. Geroian trade lords who frequented the southern markets and provided exotic goods and minerals haven't been seen for weeks. Some say famine in Geroia. Some say a plague is sweeping the Southern Basin. Others say rebellion. No one is certain, but everyone is afraid. One night a terrified Geroian man with scorched, ragged clothing hanging from his bloody body ran screaming into the village of Fedner. He ran to the village center and climbed atop a stack of crates.

"BEWARE!!! BEWARE!!! TAKE FLIGHT BEFORE THE THUNDER OF THE GODS!! FLEE FROM THE FLAMING TONGUES OF THEIR DRAGONS!! NO HOPE FOR YOU, CALRADIA!!! NO HOPE AGAINST THE SALPAETRIAN ASSAULT!!!!"

After screaming his warning, the messenger fell from his stack of crates and fell unconscious. After 3 days of being attended to by the village healer, he eventually succumbed to his wounds and died. He never divulged any more information on the Salpaetrians or this assault that he had screamed about. Little did they know that less than 50 miles south of their peaceful village, an army was preparing itself for an epic campaign. With the ruins of Geroia still in flames at it's feet, the army of the Salpaetrian Empire was preparing to cross the mountains and begin their conquest of Geroia's quarrelsome neighbor, Calradia.
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Here is some background info, Salpaetrians are a race of cunning and bloodthirsty warriors from the south. Despite their reputation as brutes and illiterate hill raiders, they have one of the most advanced systems of government in the known world. Sometime in the last two decades, Salpaetrian alchemists discovered a mixture that would produce a monstrous explosion when exposed to an open flame. The materials in the mixture were abundant in the region. Suddenly, borders with Geroia and the uncivilized barbarian tribes to their west and south were sealed and heavily guarded as the scientists started to produce crude cannons and hand bombs. Then, within the last few weeks, they marched on Geroia and slaughtered the population and burned the cities all. Thanks to a special force of Salpaetrian warriors sent to guard the pass to Calradia, not a word of the genocide escaped Geroia. Emperor Halke Aldreade III called it his "Silent Massacre". Now the bloodthirsty empire sets its sights on Calradia. God help those who stand in his army's path.


Go ahead, create your character. But please, don't everyone join as a Salpaetrian. I encourage you to make Calradian characters who will fight their foreign invaders. Of course some people can be Salpaetrian, but please dont make it a one-sided roleplay.

Rules:
-No godmodding
-No flaming
-No spamming
-2 character limit

Character Creation Template:

Name:
Age:
Occupation/Title:
Faction(Salpaetrians, Rhodoks, Vaegirs, Swadians, Nords, Khergits):
Weapons:
Armor/Clothing:
Appearance:
Special Traits:
Background(1 paragraph minimum):

 

[Sheep_Archer]

Name: Kruien Calquarn

Age: 36

Occupation/Title: Captain

Faction: Salpaetrians

Weapons: Imperial Officer's saber(similar to a falcata), strong bow with barbed arrows, hunting knife

Armor/Clothing: Surcoat bearing Salpaetrian heraldry(white griffin over diagonal blue and black stripes), mail boots

Appearance: Honey-yellow tan(definitively Salpaetrian), brown hair with a blaze of strawberry blonde, brown chinstrap beard, pale blue eyes, scars all over chest and arms

Special Traits: Impressive tactical knowledge, excellent archer

Background: Kruien was born and raised in a village outside the capital city of Yurisn by a grizzled old blacksmith and his wife. His mother was an intelligent woman and would give him lessons at home rather than send him to the village schoolhouse. Sometimes, after lessons, he would sneak over to the Imperial Army barracks and watch the archers train. After several months of observing, an archer let him try to hit the dummy on the range. On the first shot, Kruien hit the dummy square in the chest. Soon, the archers would place bets on how many targets Kruien could hit. When he came of age, he quickly enlisted in the military. With his superior education, he soared through the ranks and became a captain in control of the 16th Archer's Regiment. He played an instrumental role in the Silent Massacre. His troops earned the nickname of the "Midnight Regiment" because of their favored tactic of setting a perimeter around villages and towns and picking off sentries and anyone who attempted to flee the battle, Salpaetrians included. Desertion is never tolerated. Now he is preparing his troops for their assault of Calradia.

 

[Mirathei]

Name: Ragnar Finanson

Age: 19

Occupation/Title: "leoðucræftig"

Faction: Nords

Weapons: His fathers old long sword, Corpse-Ripper; saxe, Viper-Fang

Armor/Clothing: Old mail shirt with many ringlets missing, leather boots, Wooden round sheild with spiked boss.

Appearance: Dark hair plaited at the nape of his neck, sparse beard. Scarred, brutal looking face. Is tall and sinewy. Cunning, but not altogether very bright. He is called Ragnar leoðucræftig, or Ragnar the Agile for his style of fighting. He dislikes the steady heave and thrust with saxe and spear of the shield wall, where he is not very effective. But in the open he is deadly. He dances around his enemy like a snake.

Special Traits: Quickness. He is not very faithful, but on the battlefield he is ruthless and cruel.

Background: Ragnar's father, Finan, came from a raiding ship from across the ocean. He was a massive man, broad shouldered and muscular. He was the commander of the ship that crashed on the rocky cliffs outside Tihr. They were lost at sea, and ravenous for food and plunder. They had stormed the city, but being so few, had not affected the actual city. They had slaughtered a merchant's family in search of a nonexistent horde while Finan was away stealing goats. He saw a plume of smoke on the horizon and had come back to find his ship in flames and his crew being mutilated by the villagers. He tried to pass through the mob to get to safety; a tavern, anywhere, but his first mate recognized him a screamed for help as his ribs were being pryed out with hoes and knives. The villagers turned on the burly man, who did not speak their language. Finan shrugged and moved on. No one wanted to try to take him down. Shaken by his friends' deaths, and marooned in a hostile kingdom, he tried to settle down. He took a Nord as his wife, Thyra. They were happy together, and she bore Finan a son. Finan was delighted, but privately thought the baby, who he named Ragnar, was ugly and weak. That night , on Finan's insistence, he took the baby out to give him the rites of his people. He was still having the baby drink his own blood when he heard the screams. He sprinted back to the town to find it in flames. Sea Raiders were swarming through the streets, killing everything they saw. They thought Finan was one of them as he ran through the city with Corpse-Ripper drawn. As he got to his house, he saw a raider coming out with an armload of Finan's candlesticks and cutlery. The raider nodded to him and Finan disemboweled him with a powerful slash, tearing through flesh and mail alike. He ran inside to find Thyra, ravaged and dead.
        Finan later fled the city and put Ragnar in the care of a group of scholars. Then he burned Thyra and cast her ashes to a strong east wind. He visited Ragnar in a castle. Finan smeared a mixture of Thyra's ashes and his own tears on Ragnar's forehead with a tender hand. Then he drew Corpse Ripper, thrust it into his own chest, and died.
        Ragnar grew up a scrawny, ugly scholar boy who didn't care about his studies or anyone. He knew he was destined to be a Sword Nord. He was often beaten and tortured by other boys. He became cruel, withdrawn, and bitter. As a man, he was restless, and once released, he did not know where to go.

 

[Connors]

Name: Albrecht Stahl

Age: 29

Occupation/Title: Swadian Mercenary Captain

Faction(Salpaetrians, Rhodoks, Vaegirs, Swadians, Nords, Khergits): Swadians

Weapons: Balanced Bastard Sword and Nordic Shield

Armor/Clothing: Padded Leather Armour, Leather Gloves and Leather Boots

Appearance: Tall, cropped brown hair and an urbane demeanour

Special Traits: Trickster, is known for pulling off ruses to confuse the enemy and Counter-Rebel fighting, learnt during the Rhodok wars

Background(1 paragraph minimum): Albrecht grew up in the Swadian Royal Court as the son of a lowly courtier where he learnt much about the art of diplomacy and the imperfect elements of leaders, from drunkenness to obstinacy. While he could never say he enjoyed this life, he did end up with a number of different contacts by the time he 18 and going to the wars, finding a place serving with a Swadian Knight in the campaigns against the Rhodok rebels and the Khergit barbarians. During this time he learnt more, developing a skill or guerilla fighting and counter insurgency when fighting against the stubborn rebels as well as standard tactics, fighting against the horsemen. After the disastrous end to the Swadian campaign, with the defeat on Marrass hill at the hands of a combined force of Rhodoks and Khergits, he was forced to take a band of men back through the the Rhodok territories, ambushing caravans to supply themselves and overrunning a number of border outposts in the process. Due to the renown earned in this feat he was offered employment to the King and served with his own band, this time against the Vaegirs in the Border Wars.

Although his armour might only suggest the post of a lowly foot soldier, that is just another trick learned in the wars, after a gaudily dressed superior was shot to death next to him by a Rhodok Sharpshooter during the siege of Veluca and so that was not really an experience he'd want to repeat.

 

[Sheep_Archer]

EDIT: Nevermind, lets just begin now and let people join as we go.

 

[Connors]

The Rhodok mountain village burned furiously around him as Albrecht Stahl observed his troops rounding up the last of the supplies, faces bowed away from the wind and snow.

It was noon and the Swadian band was at the end of a long and exhausting march to the mountainous edge of the Rhodok territories, burning a path through the various fiefs and quickly breaking through several Rhodok hosts on the way. Although their rampage was completed the troops were exhausted from days and nights spent marching with not enough sleep. But there would be no time for rest now, as they were as deep into Rhodok territory as they could go, with the hostile hosts of the Khergit Khanate and the vengeful Rhodok people in their rear and front it was clear to Albrecht that this wouldn’t be an easy task.

However, at this moment one of Albrecht’s Lieutenants, Claus Hader announced his presence to the pondering Captain with a polite cough. Albrecht quickly snapped out of his thoughts and turned to his Lieutenant, who then started talking.
‘Captain, we’ve finished looting the village of all the supplies we will need to return to Swadian lands.’ Then the Lieutenant paused, evidently nervous, for a moment before continuing ‘There is, however, a discrepancy.’
‘Do tell, Mister Hader’
‘The elder said that Geroian caravan normally stops around this time in the week, but we cannot find a trace of a caravan anywhere in the village or surrounding farms.’
‘Very good, we shall wait it is easy enough to be delayed in this terrain. I daresay this village is nearly unassailable if properly defended.’ They both looked our down the only path leading to and from the village and the surrounding cliffs. Hader then spoke again ‘I would agree Captain; I’ll pass orders for a defence round.’ And with that Hader saluted and walked away. So, they waited.

 

[Sheep_Archer]

Kruien's brown hair blew in the wind as he walked on silent feet through the stretch of forest that now lay between him and his goal. That goal was the gates of Veluca. He and his party of 45 archers were going to enter the city seperately disguised as troubadours and merchants. They would then wait for their comrades further east to get the attention of the armies of the Rhodok kingdom. Then their work would begin. Kruien had already put the robes of a commoner on and hidden his armor, sabre and other weapons within a rolled tapestry that he carried in a cart with him. That cart also contained the barrels filled with the one advantage that Salpaetrius had. He walked to the gates of the city. The guard hailed him.

"Halt, peasant. What business do you have in Veluca?" the stout man said, drawing his weapon. A shabby and slightly crooked short sword with several large dents in the cutting edge, the marks of battle.

Kruien spoke in a string of classical Salpaetrian. A dialect he knew the simpleton wouldnt understand.

"What is that babble you're spewing?" asked the guard, confusedly.

Kruien pointed to his cart filled with seemingly innocent items. Then he rubbed his index and middle fingers together, the universal sign for money and profit.

"Ah, a foreign merchant. Pass through then, but dont cause any trouble or you'll answer to the law." the guard said as he sheathed his sword.

It will take more than the law, my small-minded friend, to stop what I am setting in motion. Kruien chuckled to himself.

 

[Connors]

It was last light and there was still no sign of the Gerioan merchant caravan. This was strange, thought Albrecht, considering that the Gerioans were notorious sticklers for time who'd probably consider delay as a heinous crime. Alright then, time to move. He asked a nearby sergeant to send word for his three Lieutenants and soon they were standing in front of him, the setting sun illuminating their scruffy exteriors.
'Misters Hader, Allersdorf and Lelyand, it's good to see you all still punctual, I presume your men are all in order.' The three men made assenting noises more or less in unison 'Good, but we have to move, back the way we came, before any Rhodoks show up, and pass by Veluca in the night. I'm certain we can pass cleanly. Any questions?'
'What if we are blocked by an enemy force Captain?' Allersdorf asked.
'Then we fight our war through them with haste, have your men ready to move in an hour' Albrecht replied, in his clear and imperious voice. The three men nodded, turned away and walked away as one.