Young Writers Society

This is a TYWC style Storybook RPG, as set out in this thread

Rules:
1. All posts must be run through the spellchecker; regardless of how well a speller you think you are. You'd be surprised how many words you'll miss.
2. No magical powers or special abilities. Magical items are just fine.
3. Mythical creatures are allowed, but they are limited to their special ability (i.e. unicorns can heal with their alicorns, gryphons can detect the truth, etc.) If there is any confusion, ask. *Note: Shape shifting is the same as transfiguration, which I consider a magical power, not a special ability).

The idea behind rules 2 and 3 is that we can write for characters without natural powers, or with negligible ability. The first is self-explanatory.

Here is the backdrop: A picturesque kingdom with a castle on top of a large hill, has fallen into trouble. A dragon has captured the Princess. The King has called for the dragon-slayers, but they were delayed. Instead, you and your fellow companions have been mistaken for the dragon-slayers.

We'll start this storybook several minutes before the mistake is made.

Post your bios!

I had to drop by and tell you that I was interested in this. I don't have time to come up with a bio at this exact moment, but I'll be back. This looks like a great deal of fun. I love it when people are mistaking for other people in amusing situations. *grins*

Question for Griffinkeeper: Do all of the writers have to play characters from the band of mistaken dragon-slayers?

... also: I'll post here as soon as I get cracking on that other other storybook. Which may or may not take longer than I think. *cough*

Make it fast then.

As for other characters...

Yes, it is possible. Once the gang is underway, all sorts of folks can join (so long as they have an adequate reason to do so). It would be much easier if the characters were in the initial group.

However, if you want to create a "volunteer" dragon slayer, this would make it so the initial group a little more uncomfortable, which would be just fine with me.

What role did you have in mind?

Can I use my Valin Norovir character?

Mwahahahah. This should be a riot of fun...without an actual riot though. Despite my being swamped at school,( I have an assessment due on Friday fo Advance English, which I havent started) I would love to participate. Does this Kingdom have a name??

Character: Dirk Stone
Race: Human
Nationality: Member of Tri’vadal, a powerful Nomadic Tribe.
Status: Wandering Rogue.
Description: Tall, bronzed by constant travel, muscled. Shoulder length dark hair. Swept back by a black headband imbued with Shamanic runes. Right side of his face covered in swirling tribal tattoos. Storm grey eyes set in a strong, aristocratic face.
Mistake: Looks exotic enough to be a dragon-slayer.
Characteristic Traits: Running hand through his hair, sniffing the air, twirling a dagger when nervous and bursting into foreign expletives randomly.

Back story: Dirk was an orphan born into a powerful family within the nomadic tribe, Tri’vadal. He is the bastard get of an unknown wealthy white man. His mother died in childbirth. The only reason he wasn’t killed at birth was because the resident Shaman took pity on him, being fatherless himself, and told the Tribe’s Chief that great disaster would fall upon them should this particular child be killed. Dirk was spared, then thrust upon the Hunt Lord, leader of the hunting party, to be reared. He was taught the ways of war; how to make your self unseen from the enemy, how to kill with many different tools, including his hands, and how to recognize the various tracks of the many creatures they came across. He was occasionally looked in on by the Shaman. After passing the coming of age ritual, and receiving his tribe’s tattoos, he left to seek his fortune in the wider world. Dirk is a veteran of battle, a master in blades but in particular the dagger. He was traveling through a strange new kingdom, when he was mistaken for a dragon-slayer, a mistake he could have corrected…if it weren’t for the sum of money involved and if Dirk wasn’t such a greedy scoundrel, he might have resisted and the events that followed would never have occurred…

Sounds good Jigsaw, but you might want a reason for this guy to be heading into the kingdom.

Sabradan- You can use Valin, but I'd like you to post it here and get rid of any magic you've given him. If it is an elf ability (i.e. talking with nature) you can keep it.

Eh, I'd like to post a bio and maybe a first post, but right now I'm seriously backlogged on calculus. I can barely finish three quarters of one assignment and the teacher has assigned twice the normal work. So, it will have to wait.

****

Thunderstorms are a spectacle indeed. The wind whips the branches of trees around, the rain pours down as if they were taken from 1,000 fountains. The lightning and the thunder are enough to make any normal human flinch. The fair people of the Kingdom of Ingrid were huddling inside their humble abodes. The travelers were the only ones moving, along with the occasional messenger. The children saw thunderstorms as a scary, yet entertaining diversion from everyday life. The adults saw it as an impedance to work. The travelers saw it as an nuisance.

Arthen Hajir had a different perspective altogether. The gryphon was flying at several thousand feet, in the storm itself. On the ground, people could hide from the thunderstorm. In the sky though, there was no place to hide. Wind blew against Arthen, making it the nastiest headwind he had ever encountered.

A sudden mix of air currents threw the gryphon around in the air. As cloud lightning began, Arthen decided he had had enough. Flying in storms was hard; flying in thunderstorms was foolish. As more lightning went off, Arthen dove for the ground. Lightning struck a tree below him, causing him to change his course. The road was just down there. He landed quickly, near some other people.

Dirk stood tall and defiant as the summer storm raged about him. He loved such weather; the raw pummeling of the primal elements made him feel alive as nothing else could. So it was with contempt that he looked upon several huddling forms, afraid, humbled and not attending to his horse as previously ordered,

“Get back to work you sluggards!” he roared above the gale force winds. “I'm not paying you for nothing, you useless peasants!”

In any other situation, he would have been attending to his horse himself, but the sheer magnitude of this storm was one he had to appreciate, as he rarely had the opportunity to appreciate the magnificence of the elements. Dirk watched as the peasants sprung back into action, attempting to bring his spirited black destrier under control, when Ar’vantah suddenly reared, his panicky neigh slicing through the storm quite clearly. Dirk recoiled, the urgency in the horse’s cry having shocked him; recovering his composure he turned and saw the object of Ar’vantah’s terror: a huge male gryphon that was hurtling toward them at startling speed.

His blade sang as it was released from its sheath and readied in defense. Dirk was forced to revise his assessment of the situation, however, when he saw that the gryphon was actually quite unsteady; rumpled, bedraggled feathers being testament to this. This could prove profitable…
Sheathing his sword, Dirk ran over to offer his assistance…and to make sure that the gryphon didn’t intend to eat his horse.

Sounds cool.

Name:Sirloaz Tranleen
Race:Human
Age:28
Nationality:Unknown
Status:Simple hunter
Description:White cloak, Tall-ish (5'11"), Lightly tanned skin, toned muscles. Short Grey hair, small goatee. Body covered in undecipherable writing and symbols. Two eyes one blue one black.
Mistake:looks like a well known dragon slayer (but of course isn't)
Characteristic Traits:Looks at ground often (as if looking for tracks), thumbs the small blood covered dart tied around his neck.

Back story:Tran was found out in the woods covered in strange tattoos and a dark sticking out of his shoulder.
Cared for by villagers; later in his life village was set on fire by some creature. Lived in forest and mountains, occasionally visiting small towns and villages, hardly ever went to big cities.

Full Name: Valin Norovir

Gender: male

Age: 458 (looks about 19...its the elvish equivalent)

Birthplace: the elven stronghold of Tor Arcana

Father's Name: ? (somebody help me with these)

Mother's Name: ? (somebody help me please?)

Race: Elf (mixed High elf with Grey(mountain) Elf

Eye Color: Green

Height: 6 feet

Occupation: Jack of all trades. Elven noble, adventurer, assasin, sell-sword
Class Type: Warrior/Assasin minor spell caster
Appearance:

Clothing: Usually wears black and grey cloth tunics with a simple (by elven standards, thus, still somewhat intricate) black cloak with a hood over the tunics. Under his tunics, he wears Elven mail armor.
Weapon(s): two daggers, bow, long sword of elven forge, poison

Special Skills:nightvision, exceptional swordsmanship and horsemanship, wilderness survival, communication with nature
Languages Spoken: Standard Human (language of every member of this kingdom, everyone speaks this language), Barbarian Human, Dwarven and Elven

Brief History:Valin was the first born and only born son of one of the last of the great elven families. When he was very young, his father and mother were murdered by a band of usurpers who wished the title that his father held, and that he was to inherit (his father was a lesser-noble). His nanny quickly took the babe out of the home where his parents were murdered, and took him to live with his uncle, who raised him. He taught him the ways of the sword, and the forest, as well as many other things. He taught him the truth of his parent's death, and what his inheritance was, and that when the time was right, he must take revenge.
He has a tendency to be a smartass, and a womanizer, and enjoys the drink, but not to the point where it (completely) overwhelms him. He is freindly with the people in town, and talks with them, but that is about it. He has a small group of dedicated freinds that he is often seen with, but other than that, not many "Freinds". His enemies typically don't last very long

Alignment:true neutral

Name: Arthen Hajir
Species: Gryphon
Age: 35
Gender: Male
Eyes: Silver
Height: 5'5" (larger when on hind legs)
Feather Color: White
Weapons: Steel Claws, but they are mostly used for rock climbing.
Special Abilities: He has a truth sense, which is characteristic in all gryphons.
Background: Arthen has had no formal combat training, except for hunting. His line of work is that of a traveling salesman. He often uses his appearance as a gryphon to help his sales. Since the stuff is practically useless trinkets, Arthen has had to come up with uses for them.

Admittedly, he does have some more valuable wares, but he is saving them for highly influential and powerful people, so he can squeeze more money out of them. He is very slippery, but what did you expect from a traveling salesman?

He's the type of character that can sell you something that is absolutely worthless for an obscene amount of money. When he's gone though, you feel like you've saved your family from certain ruin. Even if you have no family...

OOC Question: What kind of group is it that is being mistaken? Are they all just happening to be travelling the same way, or are they old friends or are they circus performers (shades of A Bug's Life, lol) or bards or actors or what? The story sounds fun, but I don't want to post a profile that's way off.

It is a bunch of people that just happen to be traveling along the same road at the same time. If your character looks a little dirty, strong, or tired, then it will make it easier for a mistake to be made.

*Is really excited that Areida made it to the Storybook Forum*

Sirloaz walked along the dirty road soaking in the rain, the hood of his cloak down; he was smiling in those few occasions. Casually walking/dancing in the rain care free as it seem to wash his worries away. "I always loved the rain" he said to no one in particular while breathing in the fresh clean air, for in fact he was alone. Drenched in the pouring rain he spotted a small group of people huddled over something he couldn't make out. And saw another man draw his sword but run the up the road away from Sirloaz. The lightning had begun to thunder and crackle overhead, lighting up the area as if it was as clear as day. Walking upon the people they began to stare, for it is not everyday that a heavily tattooed man with grey hair and a pure white cloak randomly appears.

Hearing a piercing screech and a shadowed figure flying through the air raggedly he took of his bow knocked 2 arrows in the string waiting to see what would happen as the creature landed in the road with a tremendous muddy splash.