These are my rules, read them before you do anything else, please. LITERATE ROLEPLAY Rule One: You MUST be literate at all times. I do not wish to Roleplay with someone that cant speak properly. Rule Two: No text talk, except for either one when you must leave, “gtg” or “brb” Rule Three: Do NOT be disrespectful. Rather it be a troll or not, please do not add wood to the flame, if possible. Rule Four: Have a well wrote and well thought through profile for your character. I’d like an actual character you use, instead of you making one out of thin air and have the profile thrown together like garbage. I’d just greatly appreciate it. Rule Five: Final one, but I am strict about it. If you have a problem with a certain picture I’m using for a character, I’m not claiming the artwork as my own, I am simply using the picture for a reference. So, please if you dont mind, keep your little angry opinions to yourself. No where do I say in this that I “own” the artwork. The work is usually signed by the artist anyways. But I do not claim it, otherwise if I did, I’d sign it myself, on the paper I draw on. Thank you. | Alright then, you seemed to have made it down here, good. I do apologize for my little rant. But anyways to the Roleplay. This Roleplay is a action/drama type. It can be anything, really, but I mostly think it be a wonderful action Roleplay. And if you enjoy this, Ill continue with the rest of the story | My Character’s name is Zanxth Piercington. He is a warrior from the medieval times, being the protecter of many of the Kings that ruled the kingdom. Now, in the modern age, he wonders around looking for someone that could use his services one day. A curse had been planted on him the day he was born, for when he turns the age of twenty-three, he shall stay that age for all eternity until his purpose is fulfilled. The curse was the cause of his father, the upper knight commander of the king’s army, killed an entire clan of witches. Out of “mercy”, some call it, he left one child alive. Once she regained her strength she grew in her powers, swearing to get revenge for her sisters. After Zanxth was born, she heard of the commander knight’s first born child. She instantly saw this as a chance to ruin this man’s life. That night, after the child came out of the womb, she cast the spell, carrying the child to a peasant’s house out in the country. After the deed was done, she returned to the house and slaughtered his wife, leaving her bleeding body on the bed, as he slept soundly. The morning had risen up slowly that day, the dawn of a new fate to every one that had been cursed. The knight rose out of bed, feeling a dry, stiff substance on the back of his tunic. Quickly he turned his head toward the cradle, looking for his beloved child. Once he saw the empty space of the where the baby had been, he turned towards his, once alive wife, seeing her brutally, murdered body. With that, his tongue stuck to the top of his mouth, not being able to scream with horror. He simply walked out of his house, immediately falling onto the ground, throwing up everything he had eaten the day before. A small boy ran up to him, holding a large pale of water. “M-my sire, are you ok?” The boy kneeled down by the man, a worried look appeared on his face. The man looked at the young boy, hot tears running down his ashen face. His voice cracked a bit as he spoke softly, “I… Boy, I need you to go get the royal g-guards…” He handed the boy a small pendent, showing he was with the knight’s royal guard. The boy ran up to the gate, yelling for someone to pay attention. A knight, one of the castle troops, a “normal” soldier, stepped up to the gate, his face in a sneer. “What do you want, boy?!” The young boy trembled slightly at the tone from the knight but handed him the small badge from the commander. The knight gasped, grabbing the boys collar. “Where did you find this?! Tell me!” The boy screamed a bit, and pointed down the woven path, “The sad man told me to bring it here…” The knight opened the gate quickly, calling several other guards to accompany him. The knight commander still was on the dirt, watching his tears hit the dry earth. The fact he knight that came from the castle quickly ran over to him, his voice in shock as he saw the commander’s state. “C-commander? You called, Sire?” The commander sat up, his hands shaking as he pointed inside his house. The knight glanced at his tunic, seeing the blood stains over his body. He sent the others inside to inspect the scene, while he kept the commander in acceptable condition. The others came outside once more, their faces as white as a full moon. The knight yelled, his voice shaky, “Well?! Report!” None of the others spoke and he marched inside, seeing the womans sliced up body, her body spread out like a cooked pig, ready for a feast. The blood was sprayed on the wall, covering the windows and bed covers in the crimson color. The young knight slowly walked out the wooden house, his face down in sadness as he walked back to the commander. He spoke tenderly to him, hoping not to set him off. “T-the child? Have you found him?” The commander shook his head, his hands balled up into fists, looking into the forest. After this age of time, Zanxth was raised as a young peasant boy, worked hard and fed well. His “parents” as he knew them, found him at his door step as a newborn, crying from the biting cold. His “mother” grabbed him up quickly, bringing him inside to save him from the chill. The small fireplace in their tiny home was just enough to keep that one room warm as they both sat in there, her voice as she sang like a beautiful lullaby. As he grew older, he began to look more and more like his actual father, his sharp jaw and his pointy nose being one of his handsome features. His eyes sparkled like a deep lake, with a great waterfall pouring into it. His “mother” and “father” treated him like he was their own, raising him with the hopes and dreams they once had as children. They grew older as the years passed, his child-like charms growing out of him as he grew older as well. He grew up to be a blacksmith, working in the small local shop near town to keep his “parents” well fed and warm. His body was well sculpted, leaving no fat on his body as he worked, keeping the maidens entertained. During the days that he worked, he’d also give small iron toys to small children when they came to watch. When he would return home though, his parents always greeted him with a smile and a hot supper. The day finally came when he turned the age of twenty-three. He went to work as usual, not noticing the day himself as he entered the shop that cool, moist morning.
Posted on: Fri, 26 Dec 2014 01:38:46 +0000
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