нαℓ'яεтн мεяcεηαяy gυιℓ∂

[Laeleslin]

ωєʟςσмє

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You are among the elite of your field. Your speed, strength and magic uplift others from oppression or bring them to their knees. You wouldn’t be here if it were otherwise…

Set like a jewel in the tumultuous land it resides in, the Hal’reth Mercenary Guild employs only the best and tiptoes diplomatically through the conflicts raging throughout the continent. A land dominated by racial hatred, the provinces and cities are divided along genetic lines. Humankind, having fallen far from their ancient position as masters of the undead, retreat to two principal cities: the kingdom of Westshire and Briarland in the East. Those afflicted with vampirism, after overthrowing their oppressors, flourish and spread throughout the land, pushing back human settlers.

Leading the undead are two figures: the cold and calculating Cyrin Dwith and the savage Kal’Thas spearhead what they consider an ongoing war on humanity. Mankind is defended by the aging monarch of Westshire and the militaristic Briarland.

Located in a mountain pass above Arbor Lake, the Hal’reth Mercenary Guild maintains the highest standard in service to its clients, whose missions run from the mundane to the dramatic. Established forty years ago, its members strive to achieve neutrality in the numerous wars, either through ideological beliefs or because it is more lucrative to remain so. Its diverse racial makeup and range in alignments ensure the perfect fit for any mission.

●IN●OOC●Profile●

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[Laeleslin]

gεσgяαρнy & вαcкgяσυη∂

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Westshire – The kingdom of Westshire has been ruled by the Illessy family for three centuries. The last of a fading line, King Matthias extends protection to humankind and prays to see the end of the conflict before he himself fades into the pages of history. Westshire itself is an affluent city-state, dependent on agriculture and trading. On its north side, farms form a half moon around the city and further south, the forests lie. Due to its proximity to these forests, Westshire also is home to many elves.

Westshire Forest – The origin of a high population of elves and fey creatures, the forest is home to the greatest magical training center in the realm, the College d’ Arcarna. Largely aligned towards good, the leaders of the forest are in the act of negotiating an alliance with Westshire.

Briarland – A city run by warlords, Briarland is the second largest bastion of humanity. With a compulsory military and emphasis on martial skills, Briarland is home to some of the most famed conquerors in the realm’s history.

Midnight Capitol – Formerly the city of Angevin. In its prime, Angevin was host to the brightest minds of the land. Filled with libraries, scholars and forums for debate, the city led the way in experimentation on the undead. After a bloody insurrection, led by vampires Cyrin Dwith and Kal’Thas, the city was largely abandoned as its human occupants fled to take refuge in more secure lands. It was renamed shortly after and over the years it has become the focal point of vampiric activity.

Branwyn Mountains – The only mountainous region in the continent, Branwyn Mountains are rumored to be inhabited by demonic creatures, though in actuality little else besides mountain goats and wolves live there. Named for the famous heroine that lost her life in the mountain range, Branwyn Mountains are also home to the Hal’reth Mercenary Guild.

Ellincia – The frigid city of Ellincia is the legendary site of The Arbitration, in which celestial beings came to reside in the land. Reclusive and introverted, its occupants rarely travel past the mountains to the south; though a substantial community does exist within Briarland.

Pliskin – A harbor town, Pliskin lies on the edge of the Azure Sea. Populated by hard merchants and ruffians, Pliskin can easily be called the soup strainer to the Sea. If seeking passage to Zufler Isle, this city offers the best chances of securing a boat. Due to its often nefarious occupants, Pliskin also finds itself a hotspot for demons.

Zufler Isle – A childhood tale to many and a byword to most, Zufler Isle is generally avoided by most mariners, as its residents consist of those inflicted by lycanthropy. A harsh environ, it is believed to be the birth place of vampires.

Stromnian Desert – Flanking Briarland stands thousands of miles of uninterrupted desert, which developed is name from the wizard that supposedly created it half a millennium ago. Like most deserts, its days are scorching and nights just as deadly.

Shar Delee – The gem of the Stromnian Desert, Shar Delee is the only beauty afforded by the sand and sun. Led by the alluring and deadly Alhena Majiid, Shar Delee is one of the only places vampires dare not go, for the barren landscape surrounding the city offers no relief from the sun’s rays. Its population makeup is a curious blend of demons and humans.

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[Laeleslin]

яuʟєs

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ஐJσίη

The Basics This is simple. If you're the type of person that should be in this rp then you should already know this. However, to make all easier I'll go ahead and say it here. Keep it PG-13 and don't make this a porno. If for some reason your character is romantically involved with another in the rp, and you guys want to do the dirty, just time skip or take it to PMs or something.

In short; just use common sense.

Apply I normally don't do this, but one rp I joined did and it seemed to work out real nice. Send a role play sample. It can be an old one used from another rp or a brand-spanking new one I don't really care, it's up to you.

Writing Level S'okay, here's the deal. I've worked my a** off to make this whole rp lay out look nice to attract advanced literate role players. And that's what I want. I want people who will be willing to write at least three paragraphs.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know we're not always going to crank out that much each time. Especially if you're having a conversation with someone. Generally though I would like a lot of writing out of you.

Profiles Everything's pretty self explanatory if you're intelligent--and if you're not, shoo--so I don't think I really need to explain what a name means. I do think that I should clarify things abilities.
For abilities, read what profiles are already accepted before deciding. I want something unique. The more interesting powers the better. Think outside the box. However if your muse decided to take a hike last minute and left you cold and alone with no one to inspire you, then it's okay if you do one of the more common powers. I'll still love you anyways.

ஐpσsτ

Posting style I'm not wasting time on this. Just have fun and make them look pretty. I always have a blast making posting outlines, but I'm not everybody. Sorry if it's a pain to make a graphically nice post. Look on the bright side though, you only have to make it once and then you're good.
Oh, also it would be totally rad to have one color scheme that's different from the others.


Frequency I would like it very much if you posted everyday. Ha! As if. Life is busy, hey I know that myself. It would be totally rad if we were able to post here everyday and get this thing rolling, but I know that things come up. Just post four times per week at least. If you're leaving on vacation or some emergency comes around tell me so I can know what's up.

ஐστнєя

Godmoding and Sues No Godmoding or Mary/Gary Su/Stu. What is this, you ask? Here’s a wonderful definition: [X] This is a 'no duh'. Have you ever been in a role play where they told you to please make a Sue and godmod? I think not.

Romance Hey, we all like a little romance in our RPs, now don't we? Just make it realistic, don't fall in love with someone at first site or after a few days of knowing them, that's kinda silly. Oh, no cybering. Please and thank you!

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[Laeleslin]

ρяσƒιℓε

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Please remember, before submitting a profile, you must submit a writing sample to me. You will not be accepted otherwise. After your writing sample has been approved, private message me your profile before posting. You may create as many characters as you can effectively maintain.

[imgleft]picture[/imgleft]
[size=24][color=Color2]「 [color=PostingColor]f i r s t ● l a s t [/color] 」[/color][/size]

[size=9][color=color2]▹[/color]---[color=postingcolor]NickNames[/color]
[color=color2]▹[/color]---[color=postingcolor]Race[/color]
[color=color2]▹[/color]---[color=postingcolor]Age[/color]
[color=color2]▹[/color]---[color=postingcolor]Gender[/color]
[color=color2]▹[/color]---[color=postingcolor]guild position[/color][/size]

[color=white]________[/color][color=gray]●[/color] It's pretty cool when:
[color=postingcolor]Powers[/color]
[color=white]________[/color][color=gray]●[/color] Don't make me mad:
[color=postingcolor]Weapon[/color]
[color=white]________[/color][color=gray]●[/color] If I could, my whole world would be this color:
[color=postingcolor]Posting color(s)[/color]


[align=center][color=gray]►[/color][color=white]xxx[/color][color=postingcolor]I'm like this most days:[/color][color=white]xxx[/color][color=gray]◄[/color]
personality (2 plus paragraphs)

[color=gray]►[/color][color=white]xxx[/color][color=postingcolor]My life's no fairy tale:[/color][color=white]xxx[/color][color=gray]◄[/color]
Bio (4 plus paragraphs)
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[color=gray][align=right][u][size=18][color=white]xxxxxx[/color][color=postingcolor]Screen Name[/color][color=white]xxxxxx[/color][/size][/u][/align][/color]

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[Laeleslin]

мαρ

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[Laeleslin]

Announcements

If anyone would like to play the Guild Master, I'm taking requests.

[Laeleslin]

Reserved

[Laeleslin]

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My hands, like embers

Mystra entered the Guild the same way she had every day for almost three years: through the door that opened directly to her chambers. She had requested it shortly after her arrival, when it became clear that discretion was desirable for visiting dignitaries and warlords seeking to buy Hal’reth’s services. Her position frequently required her absence from the Guild and this time it had been a long one. Several weeks had passed since she last saw the contents of this room.

The apartment the exit opened into was immaculately furnished, though avoiding opulence. A sturdy table and its four mated chairs dominated the center of the room, its wood glossy and slick. An ashlar masonry fireplace stretched along one wall, its dressed stones blackened with long nights of negotiations and fur-clad maidens seeking warmth as they poured their needs out like bath water. A plush green armchair with clawed feet was drawn close to it for just such a reason and beckoned her seductively with its high back and ribbed arms. A writing desk sat humbly along the far wall and, of all the pieces in the room, it alone bore hints of its owner. Though cut from the same tree as the table and chairs, its surface was scarred and pockmarked by puddles of wax from low burning candles. This was where the majority of her work was done, not slumming through back alleys and taverns or hobnobbing with the land’s socialites. Here she wrote contracts and fashioned agreements and accords. Its drawers were filled with parchment, bottles of ink and spare quills. Two doors were the only remaining features in the room.

Mystra passed through the chamber without pausing and entered one of these doors to reveal her much smaller, personal quarters. A spartan bed sat alongside one wall, accompanied only by the numerous bookcases that formed a cluttered, uninterrupted line of knowledge. Tomes of history, treatises and maps stuffed the shelves and spell components sat like carnival prizes amongst them.

The sorceress set aside the small traveling pack she carried and opened a dark wooden chest that had been stowed beneath her cot. The lid swung upwards beneath her fingers to reveal several bottles of various colors and vintages. “Ah, it’s good to be home.”

burn holes through reality

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[Eric De LeCroix]

Nicolas peered into the cracked door, he had heard his father's yelling all the way up in his room and wondered what all the comotion was about. In the room were Constance, his younger sister and Nicodemus, his father whom he dispised.
''But father,'' she chimed, '' he has a point, the only way to stop this senseless violence is to make peace with all the races not just some.''
Nicodemus rose out of his chair and grabbed hold of the little girl's neck, ''Do not ever speak of such things in this house again! I do not understand how the two of you can be swayed by fantastical words that amount to nothing. All they do is talk, never actually making a move to end anything.'' The large man thrust his daughter too the ground and exited the chamber through the back door, mumbling to himself, ''The only thing that matters in this life is ensuring your place in the history books.''

Nicolas ran out into the storm, never bothering to close the heavy wooden door. How can they be so stupid?, he thought, It isn't the war that matters anyway, but finding peace! That is far more important than carrying on the legacy of misery. The young man stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked on and on, wanting only to get as far away from Briarland as he could. He had made his mind up never to set foot in that town again until this foolishness had come to an end.

An hour had passed since the last time he could see the lights of Briarland, he was soaked and cold. The boy was having second thoughts on his running away, at least at home he'd be warm and fed, never left to want. No, he told himself,if you go back now, everyone will ridicule you. They'll say ''So this is what became of the mighty Nicolas, our hero is come back as a dog with his tail tucked behind his legs.'' He sighed, the boy wanted shelter from this torrentous rain, he wanted a nice comfortable bed. Then again, he wanted to be respected and wanted to make a mark on the world -- the one his father would never have the valor to make.

[_Athena_Woman_]

G r e g o r y M c g r y i e r
Guild Foreign Ambassador

"You think I'd be worried about loosing four years of my life, but I'm not" Gregory proclaimed to the slumped, drunken Briar solider who lay in a catatonic crumple across a heavy and potmarked table. He leaned back in his chair and took another swig of his drink. He moved to place his feet on the table, but failed because his feet kept hitting the fifteen or twenty empty glasses. He just couldn't get his feet to go around them the way he wanted them too. Aww, F-it, he thought and slammed the chair and his feet back on the ground.

He was in Briarland again, doing some negotiations about wheel protocol. The best wheels came out of the Guild, and everyone knew it. The Briarland military was trying to arrange a deal with Gregory on behalf of Hal'reth so that they would get a discount if they protected the road between Hal'reth and the Briarland Capital. Most of the roads had already been secured for easy traveling, but Hal'reth had neither the manpower or firepower to protect the Briarland road. Brairland also was already protecting some of the road, but only for Brair citizens. This agreement would allow the Hal'reth merchants (and mercenaries) to pass quicker and safer on the roads without worrying about bandits. Although if Gregory was completely honest with himself, Hal'reth was probably responsible for most of the thieves on the road. Still, a healthy economy was a healthy state. The guild leader had given Gregory this job mostly because of his strong ties to Brairland and good relations with the military leadership. Negotiations had gone well for the past few days, and he and the other negotiators thought that they had cinched the deal, so they had gone out to celebrate. There he met up with some of the soldiers, and happiness ensued.

"I'm not worried, I'm really not...what did you say your name was?" He asked the solider, who kept spinning. "S-it, you need to stay still son. Steadines' sof nerves is what the battlefield is all about. You can't be swaying all over the place like that..." The world jolted and he slammed face down on the table and half of his pint emptied itself all over the table and drooled on both companions. The barkeep silently thanked Allah that the owner of Cragmyster's Bar had gone with that extra thick coat of wax rather than the cheaper knock off junk the elves were peddling.

What was that? Thought Gregory, Oh yeah. Pasts. He used both his arms to push himself back up. "No, I'm not worried. It's freeing, you see son." He emptied the rest of the glass with a gulp. "See, I could have done anything, anything at all, and I'm not responsible." He laughed. "Because, don't you see, I can't remember! I'm not responsible!" He stood up with a jerk and gripped his coat placed on the back of the chair. "I could have been a love slave to one of those fanged undead peel'ers, assassinated the king of Ellincia (if they have one), or kidnapped by alien dogs!" Gregory laughed again and slid bad into his chair. He tried to take a drink out of his empty glass. "hah, alien dogs." He looked at his glass. "If it doesn't bother me so much...why do I keep bringing it up?...." He looked at the soldier. "Hey, are you listenin' to me?"


((Final edit: Done! Time: 3:23pm Central))

[Laeleslin]

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My hands, like embers

The wine slid over her tongue like silk and carried wondrous hints of the cinnamon and the earth during the harvest. Mystra sat the long stemmed wine glass on her nightstand, next to the bottle, and sank back onto the firm mattress of her cot. An old tune welled up from her lips and mingled with the wine. The bare white ceiling stared down at her, save for the chart of astronomy that had been pinned with a somewhat triumphant hand to the surface above her bed. There were many in the College that had believed the alignment of the stars affected a mage's powers, but Mystra had decided some time ago that her powers, particularly her manipulation of variables and odds, came and went as they pleased and followed no celestial ebb and flow. But still, the chart's lines and dots brought her amusement in the late hours of the night as, mead coursing through her veins, she traced runes in the space above her bed that glimmered like the constellations the chart depicted.

It truly did feel good to be home and she realized somewhat ruefully that she had considered Hal'reth as such for quite some time. Although she kept ties to her parents, who still worked in their golden age as counsel to the Westshire throne, she felt no affinity for the estate where she had been raised. Having traveled extensively throughout her childhood and again after leaving the College, Hal'reth had been the first permanent thing in a long line of inconstancy. She still traveled, lending her own practiced hand to Hal'reth's diplomatic concerns, but she always had this tiny room to come back to, with its cluttered walls and its whispered promise of freedom.

burn holes through reality

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[_Athena_Woman_]

G r e g o r y M c g r y i e r
Guild Foreign Ambassador

A young messenger, maybe 13, tapped Gregory on the shoulder. "Sir! Message from the Guild!" He passed Gregory a letter bearing the official guild seal and a small blue bottle with a silver top containing about three ounces of liquid. He grunted and put the bottle on the table, and turned all of his attention to examining the letter.

It appeared normal enough: a standard issued parchment letter, a bit battered from traveling a great distance. But there was something unique about it that Gregory hadn't seen in years. A spiked copper vine wrapped around the envelope and ended with a single ivy leaf on the corner which bear the seal of one of the older casters in the Guild. Ah, thought Gregory, a witch-seal. It was a powerful but rare device that protected the letter from tampering and would also guarantee it's authenticity. If anyone other than Gregory tried to find out what was contained in this piece of parchment would find themselves ignited in blue fire and the message would be transported back to the caster. They were rarely used because 1) the spell caster would have to be a very high level sorcerer or sorceress, 2) the spell took 3 months to prepare, and 3) it was wicked expensive. This was serious business.

He reached for the blue flask. He popped the cork with his thumb effortlessly and downed the whole container. "Should I leave sir?" Asked the young boy. The liquid burned as it went down in his throat and Gregory's body seized up, causing him to arch back in the chair and spasm. His eyes rolling into his skull as searing fire spread through his body. It lasted but a moment and Gregory relaxed, completely sober.

"Ug." He choked and blinked his eyes a few times. Gregory waved at the boy to sit down. "Gods. I never want to be that drunk again." He looked at the table, glad it was finally in focus. His spilled drink had spread along it and dribbled down on the floor, where a small fat pug, the bar's mascot, happily licked away. It gave the little bugger horrible gas along with some other motor skill problems, but it seemed that it didn't bother the pug in the least.

[_Athena_Woman_]

G r e g o r y M c g r y i e r
Guild Foreign Ambassador

Gregory pressed his thumb into the leaf. He felt a warm pulse in the leaf and with a jolt, a very fine carpet of copper thorns grew out of the leaf and press against his thumb in order to identify his fingerprint. Around the leaf where his thumb wasn't touching, the thorns shot up to about an inch long. They resembled thin spires that were razor sharp and were intimidating as hell. Gregory wondered if the spell could shoot them out as darts to maim tamperers. The thorns against his thumb gave the tingling sensation similar to pressing down on a bed of nails. The thorns around his thumb continued to grow, more slowly now, as if it was estimating the time until the scan was complete. After about a minute, Gregory started sincerely hoping this wasn't an assassination attempt. Suddenly the thorns sucked back into the leaf. Though it gave off no heat, It burned up and kindled like a dieing fire. little fluffs of burnt charcoal whisked up from the spell as the witch-seal died quietly like an old woman passing away. Such a beautiful bit of magic deserves a more fitting end, Gregory thought. Maybe this was really why witch's-seal wasn't usually used unless the matter would cost countless lives, a sorcerer might not find it fitting to create and kill a piece of living magic if it was to protect anything less.

"It's beautiful," whispered the messenger.

"I know. You'll probably never deliver something like this again." The envelope was left in perfect condition, except for a shadow in its pigment of the spell that had protected it. Almost at his thought, it started to open in his hand."Do you have any magic in your background? Parent? Relative?"

"Yes sir, my uncle. Though he mainly does cheap parlor tricks for the children."

McGriyier arched his brow. The lad was a child himself. Kids these days.
"You're lucky. I wish I had some magic in my blood. I dream of being able to create a bit of living magic like that." He blew on the few remaining bits of charcoal in the air. "I got myself tested once, you know. Not a drop." He sighed and opened the letter.