But, no land is untainted of blood. The end of the Golden Age was marked by Elven hunters striking down a Dragon peacekeeper in cold blood, to take its scales and teeth as trophies. The Dragons retaliated against the Elves, and in doing so burned a forest of the Ents. While striking back at the Dragons, the Ents crushed a large city of Men. In their vengeance against the Ents, the Men inadvertently collapsed the richest mines of a Dwarven city. The dwarves struck back at Men, but the Orcs in their firemountain were caught between the two, and suffered greatly. The Orcs retaliated, and destroyed a library of ancient knowledge of the Wizards. The Wizards struck back, and their powers hit not only the Orcs, but swept across the land of the Elves, too. Thus was the circle of war made, and so it went that soon, every race was fighting for themselves, aiming to wipe out all the others. This sparked the Age of Blood.
The first great battle in the Age of Blood was the only recorded victory for the Dragons, as they took to the skies and attacked human cities all across Kargeth, and in one night, all of Man, the first race in the land, was wiped entirely from Kargeth, leaving no survivors.
Soon after this, the Wizards used their magical arts to strike out at the dragons, fire and ice rained from the sky, striking the beasts down, and water flowed from deep in the ground, drowning them all. And when all the dragons were gone, fearsome beasts and savages from beyond the borders of Kargeth flooded in and brought destruction, fearing no longer the great wardens.
Next, the Ents attacked the Orcs at their firemountain, but it was a foolish endeavor. The Ents burned when they came near the firemountain, and the Orcs hunted down the survivors. When the last Ent fell, so too did all the trees of Kargeth crumble to dust.
The Orcs, now actively fighting, moved to topple the Wizards, who themselves were relentlessly attacking the Elves. Between the Elves and the Orcs, the Wizards stood no chance, and were all slain. When the last Wizard died, all the magic in the land disappeared; it lost its ability to sustain life, and the clouds moved to block the sun.
The Orcs and the Elves fought a long and bloody battle, but no winner could be decided, so the Orcs returned to their firemountain, and the Elves to their plains.
The Dwarves had built their strength up in this time, and they moved at once to strike down both the weakened Orcs and Elves. Victory was within their grasp, but they were attacked ruthlessly by the beasts and savages that had come into Kargeth, and forced to retreat to their home below the ground.
The Age of Blood has gone for thousands of years now, and the warring between the Elves, Orcs, and Dwarves has never stopped, and the savage tribes and monstrous beasts still roam the wilds of Kargeth, looking for land and food. The forces of all three races has steadily weakened over the milennia. Metal belongs almost solely to the Dwarves, the Orcs have their mysterious elixirs that make fearsome warriors of them, and the Elves know the land better than any other, and with each race having these advantages, none could best the other.
But, in the constant bloodshed, all the races have brought themselves to endangerment, and could soon all be destroyed in an instant.
Without the trees and the wood from them, there are no fires even on the darkest and coldest of nights, and shelter is hard to come by.
Without magic and the aid it provides, illness is common and even the smallest scratches can bleed for weeks, and never fully heal, and even the sky has darkened.
And without the security given by the Dragons, the races of Kargeth face dangers from outside their own borders, which could easily be the end of them all.
But, there is hope. An ancient legend of a great leader who will arise from Kargeth, and unite it's people. Under him, it is said, the trees, magic, and safety can be returned, and peace restored to Kargeth that will match the Golden Age. In the center of Kargeth, in a dangerous wasteland, there is a castle that has stood since before the dawn of time itself, and inside is the Black Throne, and the legend holds that whoever sits in the Throne will be the one to unite all the people of Kargeth and usher in the new Golden Age. But he must hurry, before the remaining races are all lost in a final, bloody battle, that will be the end of life in Kargeth.
Hello everyone! I'd like to welcome all of you reading this to 'The Black Throne'. This is the first RP I've made for a very long time, and I'll admit I'm a bit rusty as a GM (not that I was any good to begin with) but I'm hoping I'll still be able to run this so it's fun for everyone wanting to join! Now, I'll provide you with some information about the world...
There are currently three races of people in Kargeth: The Dwarves, the Elves, and the Orcs. There are also the savage tribes from beyond Kargeth, and the mindless beasts that roam it, but neither of these are available to players, and little is known about them. Please, at least read the race descriptions before choosing one...
DWARVES: The Dwarves were first seen as a very odd and quaint people by the other races. Who would want to live underground when the air was fresher and the sun brighter on the surface? But, the Dwarves preference to their tunnels was understood when the others learned of the great wealth they had found in metal ore and other treasures that kept them below the ground.
Dwarves themselves are shorter than the other races, a fully grown Dwarf is equal in height to an older Elven child. They are strong, though, their arms are thick and powerful, with muscles built up from years of mining, or other work. Most Dwarves grow their hair and beards out long, and the main reason is for warmth in the cold underground tunnels, it's not uncommon for Dwarves that live on the surface to be completely clean-shaven. Dwarves are the longest living people in Kargeth, they usually live to be at least 90 or even 100 years old. Dwarves remain almost in their prime until their final few days, where their strength rapidly fades and they can do little but wait their death.
The Dwarves main asset in the war is the metals they mine and forge into powerful weapons and armor. A battalion of Dwarves in steel plate and tower shields effectively makes for a mobile fortress. They fight with swords, axes, hammers, most anything they wish, really, depending on the skill of the individual.
ELVES: The Elven people are not native to Kargeth, but are a nomadic people that came in the early years of the Golden Age, but over thousands of years they have lost all knowledge of their other home, what it was like, and where it was. Now Kargeth is as much home to them as any other race, and they'll fight to own it.
The Elves are a powerful people, large and strong, a fully grown Elf could tower at least a full head and a half over an Orc. They have hard, strong facial features, and long, pointed ears that angle back sharply. Most Elves have some kind of tribal tattoos on them, there's no main reason for it in their culture, but they use it to distinguish one another easily, and put fear into their foes. The Elven people have short lifespans, fully maturing at 12 years, and rarely living past 25.
The advantage the elves have is mobility and knowledge of the land, contrasting to the Dwarves and Orcs, who mostly stay holed up in their homes, the Elves run and wander throughout Kargeth, exploring it, learning it. Elven warriors are often lightly armored in battle, wanting to simply run in, attack, and run out before they can be attacked themselves.
ORCS: The Orcs have long been considered a mystery of Kargeth, even in the Golden Age they rarely came down from their firemountain. They have always stayed there, using their special means of extracting the essence of the firemountain into liquid form, which often had unpredictable effects. They used these potions to improve the health of all the races of Kargeth, though that was not nearly all they could do.
The Orcs have wide skin tones, ranging from grey, nearly black, to pale green. Their bent noses, rather large teeth, and guttural voices give them an altogether fearsome appearance, but despite this most Orcs have a gentle nature, but as a whole have become hardened by war. They have a lifespan almost exactly like the Men of old.
To their advantage in the war, the orcs use their elixirs from the firemountain, which can have effects ranging from healing their wounds, improving their strength, or even send them into a bloody rage where they can't distinguish friend from foe. The Orcs use fragments of the firemountain itself as weapons and armor, jagged black stone that glows with the life of the firemountain itself.
The land of Kargeth was once a paradise for all people, but has been ravaged by countless years of war raging across it. When the Ents died, the trees all disappeared, and with it, the land's supply of wood. Wood for building, burning, crafting, the whole supply was cut off. There is still plant life growing in Kargeth, of course, but it can only flourish in a rare few spots, where the war doesn't reach.
When the Wizards were wiped out, the magic left Kargeth, and left the land as a whole weaker. Life could barely grow anymore, the rain ceased, and the sun was forever dimmed by a wall of clouds, making Kargeth a cold, cold place, though it never snows. It had an affect on all the people that still lived; they grew fatigued quicker, and had to rest more and more. Wounds and injuries they sustained took much, much longer to heal, and even then never fully went away. But, the current generations have all been born and raised with these weaknesses, and have adapted to living with them as if it was normal.
With the loss of the dragons, who once guarded its borders, Kargeth was invaded by savage tribes of people who seeked only to kill, and monsters that devoured everything they could find.
Resources in Kargeth are scarce, food must be constantly hunted down, water is almost non-replenishing, and warmth is a commodity impossible to find in the wild.
This is the verse that puts hope in the hearts of all people, of their chosen leader who will bring peace and reunite all races for a second Golden Age. No one knows where the legend came from, or who wrote it, only that they weren't much of a poet.
And peace is all but forgotten
One will rise out of the ashes of war
And put an end to the strife of all.
He shall sit upon the Black Throne
And rule the land from there
He shall have power unchangeable
Under him pain will have no place.
He will overcome many obstacles
Relying on his strength, and his allies
And when finally he takes his place
All people will unite with one common goal.
Next is character sheets, I suppose.
Race: (Only Elf, Dwarf or Orc, please.)
Appearance: (The only guidelines I have is what's written in the race description. This section includes clothing, also.)
Equipment: (This will be your weapons, armor, and anything else worth taking note of.)
That's probably about it, I guess. If anybody's confused or I didn't explain something well enough, feel free to PM me or ask about it here. Enjoy!
Here's my CS, I guess, such as it is.
Name: Durek Shameblade
Appearance: Durek is a large, powerful Orc, smaller than an Elf, but still huge for his kind. His skin is green, but is so pale it could almost be mistaken for grey. His face is mean-looking, by the standards of most, but his own recognize the soft, but worn, features in it. He has black eyes, round as a wheel, filled with lament. His nose is large and curved downward, and his mouth is filled large, powerful teeth. A scar runs down his face, starting below his left eye, going down diagonally through his bent nose, and stopping to the side of his mouth.
His black hair is tied up in a braided knot above his head, and were it to be let down, would fall to his shoulders.
By way of clothing, Durek wears plain trousers and a tunic, and over this he has a thick, soft leather coat for warmth. He wears gloves and thick boots most of the time, and wears a plain hooded cloak over everything else.
Equipment: Durek carries a a firestone ax, mined and carved from the firemountain itself, like most weapons used by the Orcs. It has a rough, jagged edge to it, more like a crude stone saw than a proper blade, but still very effective in combat. The black stone pulsates faintly with the life of the firemountain.
In a satchel on his belt, Durek carries a handful of firemountain elixirs, useful for several different situations.
History: When he was young, Durek never thought he would be caught up in the war, not so much as all the soldiers were, at least. Durek worked most of his life in the section of the firemountain that had been set aside for crafting weapons from, and for many years he worked to create weapons and armor from the precious firestone, crafting each piece while it was still attached to the wall, chipping away at it very precisely, just enough to shape and free it, so none of the firestone would go to waste.
Firestone crafting was very difficult labor, for the stone was strong, and even the smallest chips required all of an Orc's strength to break free, and Durek grew strong through the task.
During his time as a crafter, Durek befriended a young Orc maiden named Rishal. Rishal and he grew close and soon found themselves to be in love, they became engaged and were happy for a long time. But, Rishal always had one passion that Durek did not share: she wanted to go and fight in the war, to try and save the Orc people from the dangers that assailed them. Durek did not wish her to leave to such dangers, but supported her desire regardless.
As life went on and the two became older, they finally married, and very soon thereafter Rishal joined the Orcish military and left to fight in the war. It didn't seem very long at all before Durek got word of Rishal'd death on the battlefield, killed by an Elven skirmish team. His beloved Rishal, who had longed to make a difference for their people, had been killed, with no theatrics, no heroics, she was just unfortunate enough to be taken by surprise and felled.
Durek wanted Rishal's dream to live on, so he himself joined the army, deciding to make a difference in her stead. Durek signed on as a regular footsoldier, issued a sword and shield and sent out to fight. For whatever reason, Durek turned out to be an outstanding soldier. He wasn't particularly skilled, and he wasn't superiorly powerful, compared to some of the other Orcs there, but he somehow managed to fight well and survive in every battle he was involved in during his five years of fighting in the war, through sheer luck if nothing else. He became a recognized and well-respected warrior, and even rose to become a knight of the firemountain, a revered warrior class among the Orcs. He found that he was enjoying himself for the first time since Rishad died, even though he still mourned her death, he had managed to fulfill her dream and rise up to be a person of importance, and he quite liked being so respected.
However, Durek's success couldn't last forever.
One day, the battalion Durek led engaged an Elven warband not too far from the firemounatin. The Elves were outnumbered ten to one, but they still fought viciously, like cornered animals.
During the battle, Durek had been knocked down and wounded, and tried to drink an elixir to help his wound to recover and take away the pain, so he could at least withdraw from the front to get some proper treatment. But Durek made a very simple mistake; in his hurry tp drink the elixer so he could move before he was killed, he drank from the wrong bottle. Instead of helping him to mend, the elixer sent him into a murderous rampage across the battlefield, wounds all forgotten. Elf and Orc alike fell before his mighty attacks, and he fought until his body gave out from exhaustion.
Durek awoke back in the firemountain, bound in chains and under guard. He was taken to a trial where he was unable to defend himself from being branded a traitor and a war criminal. He was sentenced to exile, to live away from the firemountain and wander Kargeth until he died. He was stripped of his titles, his respect, all his possessions, and even his clan name, and cursed to be known as 'Shameblade', for the shame his crimes had brought him, until he died. He was thrown from the warmth of his home into cold vastness of Kargeth, with nothing but the tattered clothes he wore.
He had a hard life outside the firemountain, most Elves and Dwarves tried to kill him on sight, and even his own people refused to help an exile. Durek wandered a long time, courting death daily, resorting to any means necessary to survive; banditry, looting from battles, stealing, anything.
It has now been ten years since Durek's exile began, and he has grown accustomed to the harshness of living in Kargeth alone. Now, suddenly, he seeks to fulfill the ancient legend and sit in the Black Throne, becoming the hero sung of since long before the Age of Blood, although he knows he'll need to find allies to aid him, he'll let that come as it will.