Jump to content
The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Shathward

Honored Guest
  • Posts

    78
  • Joined

  • Last visited

Previous Fields

  • Characters
    Shathward
  • Gender
    Female
  • Race/Gender Details
    Click the image in my signature for a character description.
  • Bio
    I've been diagnosed with brain cancer and liver cancer, and possibly lung cancer as well. Surgery and radiation treatment has taken care of the brain cancer. I'm currently having chemotherapy. What with all the injections, blood drawings, and IV's, I get stuck with needles about twice a week, which is ironic for someone who used to blubber and cry about needles. I don't ask for your sympathy. I just make this clear so people know why I suddenly disappear now and then, and ask the ones in charge of promotion to take that into consideration. Thanks.
  • Feedback Level
    Honest.

Contact Methods

  • Website URL
    http://asshatland.blogspot.com/
  • ICQ
    0

Profile Information

  • Location
    Cell 6, District 9, Fiery Pits of Hell.
  • Interests
    Writing. I'm currently writing a story entitled 'Sakaso the Immortal', located in the Assembly Room. Do come and read, and hopefully comment in the Critic's Corner for me.

Shathward's Achievements

0

Reputation

  1. (Damn. I knew I sucked at making interesting characters. That one just walks all over mine.) *EDIT: How on earth could I misspell "mine" as "mind"? I must be going senile at the age of twenty one.
  2. Well, here's mine. Forgive me for the abrupt change/edit, but I swear this is the last change. I was suddenly inspired away from my cheap copy of the "roaming gnome" to something I'd remembered I thought up earlier. It just took the other half-orc person to trigger the memory. So I swear I'm not copying the half-orc race idea. Plus, we looked a bit short on pure fighting grunts. Name: Rakan Stone (formerly "Snaarg the Weak") Concept: Monk (the D&D monk, the unarmed fighting guy) Race: Half-Orc Gender: Male Eyes: Red Hair: Dark Brown Height: 6'0" Weight: 255 lbs Bio: Rakan was born by a mother who was taken as war booty during a raid by a chief, thanks to her great beauty, and thus impregnated. She died nameless during the pregnancy, but the child survived and grew up in the clan, given the name of Snaarg. The members of the Blacktorch clan, as the clan was called, having long forgotten about where the kid came from, was disappointed at the fact that he was only half orc. Rakan never really enjoyed all the bloodshed or the slaughter, and his already low social position went down further when he refused to slay an unarmed woman pleading for her life during a raid. He hesitated before pushing her away into the wilderness to run away, and was instantly beaten up by his comrades on the spot. From then on, they ostracized him and dubbed him "Snaarg the Weak". After constant harassment and random punches flying his way, he decided to steal away and leave the tribe. After all, he wouldn't be missed. Before he could act, though, they actually kicked him out of their own accord, and their tender feelings for him only extended far enough to leave him his posessions and a token goodbye beating that left him limping. Badly bruised, starving, rejected from village to village, he finally staggered into a small village of monks and collapsed into a feverish sleep. These people, seeing his condition, took him in and tended to his wounds. When he woke up in his right mind, his first words were, "Can I join you?" They taught him everything he knows, along with the name of Rakan, and sent him on his way while telling him that he needed to go see the world and experience more before he could truly begin his spiritual quest.
  3. Charion stopped for a moment. He stared at the newcomer, and took in all the features of what looked to be a golem created by someone with a sick level of creativity. His glance especially lingered on the boomboxes. Slowly, a wide grin split across his face. This was the most bizarre personage yet, and it made him happy. "Oh yes. It is most definitely time to SIIIIIING! Get back up and join with me in dance and song, brother!" Tossing the newcomer some bongo drums, Charion plucked madly at his lyre and drew out a very fast, jolly tune while jumping around in circles around the hulking monstrosity. Every once in a while, his stinger spurted flames out of excitement. Ah, I used to feel so neglected Dropped by my dear old mommy WAAAAR *random shout* Oh DRAT that mother of mine! In this big-ass place so uninhabited I even thought of calling her a WHOOORE *random shout* I'm such a naughty boy! But now I have a brand new SPANKIN' friend With an ass so much bigger than this place *random shout* And I like what's on his ass indeed! I hope the fun never SPANKIN' ends Maybe with dear Auntie Muse's GRAAAACE! *random shout* HEY HO!! In his intense excitement and musical ecstasy, before he realized what he was doing, he accidently made a big swipe at his fallen partner with his spear with a great cry of "OOPS! Look out, brother!"
  4. I believe I've done it. The 2005 Monstrous Dramatist Dukeout is now here. Go join it.
  5. [OOC] Do you all remember the old Jousting Tourney from the Archmage Bulletin Boards and how cool it was? Do you all remember the Archmage Royal Rumbles and how great they were? D'you want 'em back? D'YOU WANT 'EM BAAAACK? *cough* Well, that's not what I'm bringing back. No, ma'am. No, sir. This is going to be a bit different. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Before I say anything, I shall make one thing clear. Everyone is welcome to join. To briefly describe what the Dramatist Dukeout is, I guess you could say it works along the same principles as the Royal Rumble. You create a character, and either challenge someone or await a challenge, and once you have an adversary, you engage in one-on-one competition. However. That is less than half of what is to come. There are a few twists. First of all, you don't fight with swords, spells, or any of that normal Royal Rumble carnage. You fight with words. Poetry, drama, monologue, dance, song, storyweaving, rap, just about any performing art form you can imagine! Your character will battle with literary prowess in turns. Of course, just standing around and talking gets old after a while, so you can punctuate your verses with sword blows or magical explosions. A fun example of a good character might be an eight-legged, sword-brandishing spider-centaur who spontaneously breaks out into rhyming monologue. Now for the final twist, which brings the Monstrous part of the title into play! All characters participating in the Monstrous Dramatist Dukeout must have five or more appendages, and tails do not count. This pretty much ensures your character isn't of a humanoid form or race, but rather something of a monster! (Hey hey, be creative. Nothing says your character needs to be a mammal, or even an animal. It could be a talking fungi. It could be a mournfully singing patch of flowers. Let your imaginations run wild.) Let the games begin! [/OOC] -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- As patient Time looked on, endless numbers of mortals entered life, and endless numbers of mortals left it. Drowsy with its immortality, sluggish in its vast power, Time slumbered on and continued to dream. It saw all the divinities locked in their futile struggles, quests, and games of power. They all sought greater quantities of that which Time possessed in such vast amounts: power and life. They schemed, formed alliances, betrayed, and betrayed again right under its nose, and underneath their little games, the mortals did exactly what their gods did. They, too, played those futile games of power. Time merely watched, and dreamed. In a corner of the multiverse, an intelligence stirred. It took the form of an elven woman, dressed in folds of white cloth that glowed with just a little too much subtle beauty to be of mortal creation, who paced a floor while gently running her fingers across a little harp clasped lovingly to her breast. She whispered gentle nothings into the air, and they melted away into what mortal songweavers called muses. After what seemed like an eternity, she smiled and looked up slightly. War, my sister, you have come! How lovely. Of course, Muse. I always look forward to our little chats. In front of the elven woman in white stood another elven woman, but she was completely different. War was dressed in luxuriant, silken folds of dark red, and at her side hung what looked to be a plain sword sheathed in leather. Muse's hair was a soft, whitish blonde, but War had a head of disheveled black hair. She also had a much more wild, warlike expression, true to her name. It's just that I had an idea, sister. I know we've been at odds for such a long time. I want us to be sisters again, and why not bring us back together by working on a joint project? War allowed a look of vague interest sweep through her face. She shook her hair back, drew her sword, and casually inspected her weapon for wear and tear. A project? You mean I get to kill people and you'll make songs about it? Close, close. Why not make a world where mortals can fight and make war all they want, but where an attack must be accompanied by a bit of the performing arts? It'll be lovely! Imagine the poetry that will be inspired by the violence! War's expression drooped slightly, as she did not share Muse's enthusiasm for the arts, but she had to admit the idea was interesting. She smiled happily at the thought of a world devoted to unlimited carnage. Sounds good to me. Can't wait to see the blood spill. I also suggest that we have non-human fighting here. It's much more interesting. Mortals can be cunning, though, and they might try to break the rules by killing without performing. Oh, don't worry, I'll weave into the fabric of the world itself. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- As the sun rose on the new world, two figures stood against the light and looked over their work. This world was covered with forests, rivers, lakes, mountains, plains, fields of lava and stone, marshes, deserts, and every other variety of terrain imaginable. Muse sighed with delight at all the beautiful terrain, especially the lush and verdant forests; it was just too beautiful for words! War also looked happily at all the thick vegetation; imagine how beautiful it would be once they all burned in the flames of war! Each happy with the result but with different thoughts on why it was a success, War and Muse left this world with a snap. "Mmm, to start things off ... " Before leaving, War snapped her fingers at a little red ant scurrying out of sight into a boulder. The little ant was caught in mid-crawl, and began to glow. It steadily grew larger until it broke open the boulder, and when everything was done, it was six feet long. The head broke off and burst into flame, burning away into ashes. From the open spot where the head used to be, what looked like the head, arms, and top half of the torso of a hairless human with black reptilian skin sprouted forth and merged with the rest of the ant. The newly transformed ant looked much like a centaur-ant which was a mix of a human with black reptilian skin and burning red eyes and a gigantic fireant. The stinger of the ant spurted and sparked with fire, and each red ant leg now ended in a human forearm and hand of the same red color. Charion the Performing Ant was born. He reared, searing the ground with his stinger fire, and with a ferocious expression on his face, he summoned forth his greatest weapons. Amidst blinding light, a masterly crafted shortspear with a big blade covered in powerful runes and glyphs dropped into his right hand. The broad, sword-like blade was about 2 feet long, with a 3-foot wooden handle. And into his left hand dropped a most fearsome weapon indeed. He dropped that fearsome weapon of legendary might, the LYRE, into his second pair of hands, and began to jump around, plucking madly on the lyre's strings while brandishing his spear. "Is it just me, or is it time to SING?!" OOC: Remember, your character needs five or more appendages, and all attacks must be punctuated with some sort of performance of literary prowess by your character. Let the carnage begin! Come on and introduce a character of your own! (Some basic guidelines. Do not godmode, for the sake of preserving the fun. Use more or less proper spelling/grammar/punctuation/capitalization, for the sake of the reader. Just use common sense and we'll all be merry!)
  6. True. We shall let this zombie die, then ... a new thread must be made, and pardon me while I go brainstorm a bit ...
  7. Ah, I guess that is true. Very true. Too true. Well, then, forget about the Rumble, Tourney, or Nimball and give me a moment while I run off and think up something completely new ... *EDIT: Well, sort of new.
  8. Uh oh. There looks to be competition.
  9. OOC: Does anyone wish to resurrect this? I know I do! If you're new to this, you simply create a character anywhere (the Greenroom is NOT recommended, since it's a restricted area to guests) we can see it easily, and either challenge an existing character that isn't fighting, or wait for a challenge. Remember, the 3 main guidelines are ... 1. Try to use more or less coherent spelling, grammar, punctuation, and capitalization. Please. This is for everyone's benefit. If you read some of this "Vincent" character's posts in here, that is exactly how you should *not* write. If not for the readers, then at least do it for me! *tears* And for *%#&'s sake, write in paragraphs. o_O 2. Let's not be ambiguous on character powers when they're first introduced. Some people are very ambiguous on purpose so that they can invent more powers later, which isn't very fair ... BUT WE'RE NOT LIKE THAT, ARE WE? HM? HM?!! *stern, furious look* 3. Do. Not. God. Mode. As simple as that. It rapidly spoils the fun, and is dishonorable and stupid. That wraps it up. Everyone have fun with the 3rd AMRR! I hope more people come by the liven this up. (Hm, it'd take a while to think up a character of my own ... )
  10. So would you suggest bringing the Royal Rumble back, or the Jousting Tourney? The Royal Rumble would allow for more freedom, and more activity, since there won't be waiting for other "couples" or the judges to finish. The Jousting Tourney would be more organized and systematic, with an actual scoring system, but it'd be about twenty times slower. Any thoughts? *EDIT: Never mind. The Third Annual Archmage Royal Rumble has already conveniently been created for our benefit! Pardon me while I run off and bump it back up!
  11. Bffprrrphbt. Very well, I guess I could give it a shot. *EDIT: Remind me what "the SRD" is?
  12. On second thought, count me out unless the rule system is dropped. Only the traditional Pen roleplaying method appeals to me; any of this newfangled d20 nonsense is too restricting if we need to format our posts like that.
  13. I'd be willing to join, but I'm not sure I like rule systems in roleplaying. However, I am willing to expand my tastes. Count me in.
  14. So how many people remember how the Jousting Tourney went? Spill it! *EDIT: What's up with that many 'no' votes?
×
×
  • Create New...