It has been two years since anyone has seen anywhere not littered without either corpses or the unliving. All those who have survived thus far have retreated to castles, forts and other places which the previous lords called home. A few communities have even managed to thrive under these conditions, securing farmlands and creating a year round crop. However, the dead still walk, and someone is leading them. News is brought to your stronghold every few days from different refugees that had managed to escape the massacres of their towns and villages. Tales of horror and sorrow, and of the ever-increasing number of ghouls and undead. It would be foolish to think that your home wouldn't be attacked eventually.
There is unrest inside the home that you and your fellows have made for yourselves. Some of the men and hot-headed youths believe that they should stop hiding and go out to take the fight to the dead, and put them back in their graves. Others suggest that it would be wisest to wait things out and defend the walls, and keep the undead out rather than risk leaving the safety of the walls. A third group suggests evacuating the castle and fleeing to the mountains, where the cold could stop the undead in their tracks. All three groups argue with one another at the daily town meetings, and tempers are rising to a boiling point.
Will you be able to survive the resulting chaos as the three factions fight amongst themselves with the dead all around them? or will you too join the mindless legions that threaten to extinguish the last flames of hope?
(Note, this is the town wherin this shall be taking place, although there are certainly other areas for the heroes and heroines to explore!)
Building # 17 seems to have been an inn when this all began, and is currently where the majority of the population resides, sleeping on straw mats on the floor near the hearth, with the women, children and elderly sleeping upstairs in the rooms.
Building # 24 has been converted into the town’s healer’s center, where the wounded are both treated and sleep there during the night. The cabinets are filled with bandages and weak healing potions, and from the ceiling various herbs are hung to dry for the making of poultices and tinctures.
Building # 27 was the town’s church, and still is, however the building has begun to fall into neglect and many of the walls are begging to crumble, many of the stain glass windows from up above which used to bathe the room in a rainbow of color are shattered and cracked. Many of the town still walks here in the morning to pray that the undead do not find them, or to have the strength to fight them off when they inevitably do find them.
Building #22/23 is the town’s blacksmith and armorer respectively. Here both tools and weapons are made on a regular basis. Due to not having any new metal coming in it has become common practice to smelt down any old or broken items, and to salvage any scrap of metal that is not in use or need by anyone. While this results in the quality of the metal being random at times, few complaints are made unless the tool or weapon/armor in question constantly needs to be fixed.
Building # 30 is the towns current storage building, where everything from tools and weapons to sacks of grain and apples are stored.
Building # 39 Used to be the towns mausoleum, which is rather ironic that it is now the towns safehouse in the event of an attack. All noncombatants within the town are to head down there and shut the stone doors behind them. A noncombatant is anyone who is either under the age of 16, a cripple, or a woman with child. Anyone without the physical strength to lift a weapon and swing it with relative ease are also considered noncombatant.
There is unrest inside the home that you and your fellows have made for yourselves. Some of the men and hot-headed youths believe that they should stop hiding and go out to take the fight to the dead, and put them back in their graves. Others suggest that it would be wisest to wait things out and defend the walls, and keep the undead out rather than risk leaving the safety of the walls. A third group suggests evacuating the castle and fleeing to the mountains, where the cold could stop the undead in their tracks. All three groups argue with one another at the daily town meetings, and tempers are rising to a boiling point.
Will you be able to survive the resulting chaos as the three factions fight amongst themselves with the dead all around them? or will you too join the mindless legions that threaten to extinguish the last flames of hope?
(Note, this is the town wherin this shall be taking place, although there are certainly other areas for the heroes and heroines to explore!)
Building # 17 seems to have been an inn when this all began, and is currently where the majority of the population resides, sleeping on straw mats on the floor near the hearth, with the women, children and elderly sleeping upstairs in the rooms.
Building # 24 has been converted into the town’s healer’s center, where the wounded are both treated and sleep there during the night. The cabinets are filled with bandages and weak healing potions, and from the ceiling various herbs are hung to dry for the making of poultices and tinctures.
Building # 27 was the town’s church, and still is, however the building has begun to fall into neglect and many of the walls are begging to crumble, many of the stain glass windows from up above which used to bathe the room in a rainbow of color are shattered and cracked. Many of the town still walks here in the morning to pray that the undead do not find them, or to have the strength to fight them off when they inevitably do find them.
Building #22/23 is the town’s blacksmith and armorer respectively. Here both tools and weapons are made on a regular basis. Due to not having any new metal coming in it has become common practice to smelt down any old or broken items, and to salvage any scrap of metal that is not in use or need by anyone. While this results in the quality of the metal being random at times, few complaints are made unless the tool or weapon/armor in question constantly needs to be fixed.
Building # 30 is the towns current storage building, where everything from tools and weapons to sacks of grain and apples are stored.
Building # 39 Used to be the towns mausoleum, which is rather ironic that it is now the towns safehouse in the event of an attack. All noncombatants within the town are to head down there and shut the stone doors behind them. A noncombatant is anyone who is either under the age of 16, a cripple, or a woman with child. Anyone without the physical strength to lift a weapon and swing it with relative ease are also considered noncombatant.
(Fixed.)
Place holder for now. Looking forward to this starting up.
(Alright, everyone who is in this RP Send a placement post so I know who is attending.)
Place holder.
Place hold
Place holder! Can't wait for the RP. ^.^
Place holder! Looking forward to it.
Placeholder!
Holding a place!
Placeholder
Place holder! I'm so excited!!
(This thing still on???)
(Indeed it is still going on. Apologies to all for the delay, I'll be posting up a starter this Saturday.)
If I may ask, is it still on?
(Yes. I just had life interfere. The starter will be posted today.)
It was a crisp autumn morning. The sun was shining, making a pleasant change in the normally dreary weather that had only added to the general doom and gloom which was felt on a constant basis. The trees had all had their leaves turn into the wonderful shades of yellow, orange, and red. Many of the leaves had fallen to the ground, serving to partially obscure the ground. In some trenches and natural ditches the leaves completely obscured them, making them seem to be level with the rest of the ground surrounding them. Anyone who wasn't a complete fool would tread very lightly around these parts, because thanks to those leaves who knows what could be hiding underneath them.
A group of those who had managed to survive as long as they have have taken refuge in the ruins of a old town, clearing it of any undead who had resided there and starting to get the village into a livable condition once again. The men work day and night on repairing the walls of the houses where their wives and children slept, as well as guarding the village from any marauding undead, the lights of their torches can be seen from a fair way away. The women have not been idle either, and even the children have started to help when they can. The children gather scrap wood from within the village to burn at night to keep everyone warm. The women tended to the wounded and mended broken arms and armor. Though some of them chafed at having to do such duties, they also realized that they needed to be done if everyone was going to survive as a group.
It was night when the new arrivals had spotted the town, smoke rising up from the central building with smaller fires all along the walls where the sentries were keeping watch, rubbing their hands overtop the small fires to keep themselves warm. The smell of roasting meat was evident in the air. Perhaps some form of celebration?
A group of those who had managed to survive as long as they have have taken refuge in the ruins of a old town, clearing it of any undead who had resided there and starting to get the village into a livable condition once again. The men work day and night on repairing the walls of the houses where their wives and children slept, as well as guarding the village from any marauding undead, the lights of their torches can be seen from a fair way away. The women have not been idle either, and even the children have started to help when they can. The children gather scrap wood from within the village to burn at night to keep everyone warm. The women tended to the wounded and mended broken arms and armor. Though some of them chafed at having to do such duties, they also realized that they needed to be done if everyone was going to survive as a group.
It was night when the new arrivals had spotted the town, smoke rising up from the central building with smaller fires all along the walls where the sentries were keeping watch, rubbing their hands overtop the small fires to keep themselves warm. The smell of roasting meat was evident in the air. Perhaps some form of celebration?
(Quick note. Turn order is in the order of placeholders. As for starting posts, your character spotting the village and arriving will do just fine.)
(Oh for the love of... Nevermind. Post whenever you're ready and we'll make a turn order from there.)
Trudging through the woods, mark pulled his cloak closer around him. This cold was getting on his nerves, if it wasn't for this heavy fabric that he clung so desperately to him, he probably would be suffering hypothermia. He couldn't complain though he's been in colder with less, barely surviving the occurrence. The autumn leaves crackled under his leather boots and echoed past the trees. A gust of wind blew his direction and he smelled very faint smoke, which meant civilization. Looking up he saw through the trees some fire in the distance. At least he had the general direction of where the refuges were going, but he had hoped he would find a road by now. Well, with any luck he'd be in a warm place soon, perhaps with something to eat as well.
Continuing on he heard the sound of footsteps off in a direction, many footsteps, a group? They didn't sound like the shambling undead, and they had a certain pace and rhythm to them, but out of cadence, so it must civilians. Heading towards the sound he happened upon a road, and on it there were a few refuges, and some other interesting looking individuals, perhaps mercenaries. No one seemed to notice him so he just meshed into the crowd not saying much and keeping his distance from anyone. The refuges paid him little mind. No one identified him as a soldier due to the cloak pulled around him, that and they seemed to have a bit of sullen looks on their face, but at least there was a small flicker of hope in some of their eyes as they approached the town. His bastard sword swung loosely in its scabbard under his cloak and he reached a hand down to steady it and kept his eyes forward.
As they came closer to the town he could smell meat roasting, making his mouth salivate a bit. Well at least they had food, but he wondered what the occasion would be, meat was a bit hard to come by and it seemed like the whole town was roasting. They were coming up on the walls of the town now, hopefully entrance wouldn't be to hard. He looked around to see if anyone was sickly, but didn't really notice anything out of the ordinary, just cold hungry people.
Continuing on he heard the sound of footsteps off in a direction, many footsteps, a group? They didn't sound like the shambling undead, and they had a certain pace and rhythm to them, but out of cadence, so it must civilians. Heading towards the sound he happened upon a road, and on it there were a few refuges, and some other interesting looking individuals, perhaps mercenaries. No one seemed to notice him so he just meshed into the crowd not saying much and keeping his distance from anyone. The refuges paid him little mind. No one identified him as a soldier due to the cloak pulled around him, that and they seemed to have a bit of sullen looks on their face, but at least there was a small flicker of hope in some of their eyes as they approached the town. His bastard sword swung loosely in its scabbard under his cloak and he reached a hand down to steady it and kept his eyes forward.
As they came closer to the town he could smell meat roasting, making his mouth salivate a bit. Well at least they had food, but he wondered what the occasion would be, meat was a bit hard to come by and it seemed like the whole town was roasting. They were coming up on the walls of the town now, hopefully entrance wouldn't be to hard. He looked around to see if anyone was sickly, but didn't really notice anything out of the ordinary, just cold hungry people.
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