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Fields of Malada.

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NotFishing

NotFishing

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The Game Stewards Desk

"I'm going to be blunt with you. There is no point in banning sharp weapons."

Joric Ironfist stood at the Game Stewards desk, trying to argue his way into entering the melee. He was clad in full armor, with his spiked helm and enchanted shield, as well as both a sword and an axe on his belt. Despite the neutral expression on his face, he was clearly displeased with the arbitrary restriction on equipment.

The Game Steward had yet to respond or even change his expression.

"A mace or a hammer can be just as deadly as an axe or sword!" The dwarf continued his protest, attempting to hammer his point home. "They can crush skulls and shatter bones. An axe can split skulls and cut through bones. What's the difference?" Beneath the gold, the Bitter Steel.

28-Feb-2016 15:43:39 - Last edited on 28-Feb-2016 16:11:19 by NotFishing

Er Ril

Er Ril

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((Accepted Lasky, there's a proper 'Intro' post on its way once we have a few more people.))

Game Stewards Desk.

"I'm here to ensure the rules are followed, not to engage in a debate."
The Steward sighed, a bored expression on his face as, behind the chattering Dwarf a long line off irritated competitors was starting to form.

A pair of huge, hulking Orcs in black, sleeveless tabards emblazoned with the words 'Tourney Security' began to take a pace forward, but The Steward halted them with a flick of his quill.

"Now, Master Dwarf, unless you wish to sign up I bid thee good day."

"Try the Joust!"
A voice called from further back down the line, to general laughter.

A passing Horse Salesman promptly produced a rather flea bitten, mangy looking Mule haltered with a length of frayed rope.
"She'll see ye right guv, only five gold!"

The Steward pushed the already rather stained piece of parchment across the desk towards the Dwarf and proffered his quill,
already the paper was marked with many varied, crude signatures, X's and bloody fingerprints.

"If you wish to sign up the The Meele please make your mark here, The Malada Council is obligated to inform you that by doing so you agree to follow Tourney Rules and wish to remind you that The White City accepts no responsibility for any injury, maiming, incineration or Death which may occur to your person as a result of competing in the following event."

Behind the Stewards Desk, a pair of Workers had just finished putting up a large banner, which now unfolded in a snap of canvas to pass its message onto the waiting world.

"Sponsored by Gorebucks."

28-Feb-2016 18:29:57 - Last edited on 28-Feb-2016 18:31:05 by Er Ril

D F Angel

D F Angel

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Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.


Though not usually a pushy person, the fact that a dog had just attempted to ******* upon him had encouraged the man to push through to the front of the line. People turned, outraged at this disruption to their perfectly-maintained queue, but quickly changed their minds as the grey man made his way through. Maybe it was his smile, perpetually etched upon his face, or his complete lack of colour, or a look which hinted at supernatural strength which would hit them like a tonne of bricks if they didn't move. Or maybe it was the decorative bird droppings that coated his head and shoulders.

"Excuse me, coming through, pardon me," he apologised as he slid on past towards the desk, the scent of stale ********* following in his wake. The floor shook as he walked- and so it should, for this man was no man at all, but simply looked like a man. One might consider him an imposter, as he held the name of a real person- which would make this the most bizarre case of identity fraud ever to grace the earth.

You see, the man in question was, in fact, a statue.

George P. H. Waddington IV, (or so said the plinth he carried under one arm,) was a 1:1 scale model replica of a wealthy but eccentric man who had given away his life's fortune to various churches and hospitals, and was in return granted the statue that was currently shuffling awkwardly towards the Games Stewards Desk, (the statue liked to consider himself George P. H. Waddington IV II, or else George P. H. Waddington V.) No one was quite sure how the statue had gained sentience, or why the statue reckoned joining a tournament would be a good idea. But then again, not many people asked either.

He wore a bucket hat, raincoat, trousers and slippers, all grey, with a bronze chain that hinted at a pocket watch but which lead to a non-existent pocket, something which George P. H. Waddington IV II was rather disgruntled about. Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

29-Feb-2016 00:02:24

D F Angel

D F Angel

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Still, he suppose he shouldn't complain too much- as far as statues went, the ability to move seemed to make him in the top percentage. But man, imagine if those pockets were real...

"Yes, hello, pardon," he stammered as he reached the desk, plodding his plinth down as one might put down a suitcase. Despite his shortness he might have cut an imposing figure, if not for the seagull that had just decided to roost upon his hat, adding yet more paint to that mural which was forming at the top of his features. "I wish to join in your Foote the Ball match. Oh, and the melee, if that isn't too much trouble. I was thinking of registering this," he patted his plinth affectionately, "as a weapon. Is that alright?" He flashed a dazzling smile, an easy task as he had been originally sculptured with that exact expression on his face. "Name's on the weapon," he said, tapping the plinth again. Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

29-Feb-2016 00:02:35

Guthix SS4

Guthix SS4

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The Meele

Name: Pirion
Age: 180
Race: Elf
Gender: male
Appearance/Equipment: Pirion is around five foot and nine inches tall, he weighs somewhere around one hundred and thirty pounds. Pirion is pretty thin but he has a slight muscular built in his appearance.

Pirion's body is riddled with scars up and down his back of his white sun tanned skin. Pirion has a welt like brand burned into his wrist. Pirion is bald and his face has no facial hair not like elves ever have beards... Pirion has blue eyes.

Pirion wears a tan vest and black pants and black boots Around Pirion's neck is a slave collar. A collar filled with magical properties, which the owner can use to 'control' the wearer. It sends a shock into the wearer when the enchant decides to shock the wearer. They either do what their master says or keep getting shocked.

Pirion has a medium sized sword, it was given to him so he can compete in 'the Meele' The sword is just plain in design

Personality: Pirion's personality, he is rather quiet with his master present. He looks towards the day his master dies and he is free. His personality will be more revealed in the rp.

Archery

Name: Kain Mercer
Age: 30
Race: human
Gender: male

Appearance/Equipment: Kain stands around six feet tall and weights around two hundred pounds. Kain is muscularly built, he has long black back black hair, had hazel eyes. He has a big black beard.

Kain wears a big tan trench coat. Under his shirt is a leather chest plate, perfectly made to fit Kain. Kain wears tan pants under that leather armored chaps. Around his waist is a belt that hold several sacks. On his right side is a flintlock pistol, and on his left is a wand. Along with his wand there is a whip with metal barbs at the end. On his back is a crossbow for the archery tournament.

Personality: Kain is rich noble. He owns Pirion as he is his master. More of Kain's personality will be revealed in the rp.
and nothing was spoiled :P

29-Feb-2016 01:54:35

D F Angel

D F Angel

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Name: Sir Richard the Dragonlancer

Age: 26

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Appearance/Equipment: Sir Richard's appearance evokes the image of the valorous knights of yore. He is a slight cut above six feet in height, clean shaven, with brown haired tied in a ponytail which trailed down his back whilst a thin fringe rested just above his eye-line to reveal his green eyes, flecked with orange. He is straight-backed and of a muscular build, yet lean enough to lend himself to horseback, as his passion is the tourney tilt.

Sir Richard's armour is painted red, he bears a sword at his hip and a kite-shield at his back which displays the man's quartered sigil, displaying the houses which he belongs to. His helmet sports no visor, having no opening on the front save for a narrow eye-slit and topped with an orange plume which matches the colour of his poleyns and rerebrace. His cape is a mix of oranges, reds and yellows to go with the theme.

Most noticeable of Sir Richard's equipment is the weapon for which his nickname arises- his lance, eight feet long and coloured a spiralling red and orange, the tip carved in the visage of a dragon's head. Though rarely allowed to use this weapon at tourneys, (people believe the dragon's head is weighted and gives an unfair advantage,) Sir Richard is nonetheless never seen without it on his person, or else being carried by his squire.

Sir Richard also owns a black gelding, similarly bedecked in reds and oranges and lightly armoured, and is accompanied by a squire.


Personality: Laid-back, thoughtful, chaste. Sir Richard has little interest in anything save for jousting, though cannot refuse the plight of the innocent if the need for chivalry arises. Tries to see the best in people, but isn't blinded by idealistic fantasies. Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

29-Feb-2016 17:17:15 - Last edited on 29-Feb-2016 17:17:45 by D F Angel

D F Angel

D F Angel

Posts: 19,587 Opal Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Name: Prince Eliazar Guttsen-Alzabeth of Trigonia

Age: 12

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Appearance/Equipment: At four foot ten, Prince Eliazar is at that awkward stage when one's body leans towards plumpness before a growth spurt, and is therefore both short and on the chubby side. He has tanned, smooth skin, a small nose, brown eyes and light-brown hair which may have one stage been blond. He wears a resplendent costume of blues and purples which befits his noble rank, and a half-cape which was either impressive or laughable, depending on who you asked.

Prince Eliazar carries a shortsword, a buckler, and leads a rather sprightly mule.

Personality: The descendant of two separate royal families and fifth in line for the throne of Trigonia, Prince Eliazar is as privileged and self-loving as one might expect. He has a natural tendency to believe himself better than others, which is perhaps why his parents made him into Sir Richard's squire, but this seems to have boosted the boy's ego rather than curb it.

Eliazar is snobbish, prone to gluttony and has a mild disregard for other people's opinions, yet knows when to keep his tongue and has a deep respect for the knight he serves. He wishes to one day become a great knight, and can be inspired into deeds of greatness when his own personal safety has been assured. Like most twelve year olds, he becomes immediately flustered when around the presence of females, which everyone is thankful for as it is one of the few occasions you can get the boy to shut up. Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

29-Feb-2016 17:17:21

Sir Duncan88

Sir Duncan88

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A figure came hurrying toward the back of the queue, looking relieved that he had arrived before the event actually began. He had only just reached Malada, you see. Why, exactly, he hadn’t travelled here sooner as opposed to on the day was unclear and likely not important.

Perhaps it was due to his laziness and procrastination, or maybe it had something to do with the lack of a ‘RP’ in the thread title to indicate that this thread was, in fact, a roleplay. No-one really knew. Or cared. Not even him.

When people walked by, they did*’t stop and stare. They did*’* cast suspicious glances. They did*’t even nudge each other and whisper behind his back about how he was going to get torn to shreds in the tournament.

You see, the man, who was now approaching the desk, was probably the most generic, unremarkable person you could ever lay eyes on. He had light skin and short brown hair, with very dull, uninteresting grey eyes. He had a generic friendly smile. You could swear he was just another background character. Well, he looked that way.

“Yes, hello.” He said, “I would like to sign up for one or more of your events. Just whichever ones have the fewest participants or players.”

“I, er…also have to ask…Do you have any personality clichés that aren’t filled? Like a comic relief rogue or silent badass? I need to know before I sign up.” He gave another generic smile.

10-Mar-2016 16:31:20

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