Please respect other members. Please do not post links or information about hacking/warez/cheats.
Read the rules of these forums as we rarely warn before banning. Lost or need RSS check the forum map.
New RPG by someone who does not play world of warcraft
Like the Title says, I do not play world of warcraft, but it is something I want to do. The problem is my computer is a piece of crap. So this is as close as I am going to get.
If I did have a character, he would be something like this
Name:Osman de Kalb
Age: 24
Race: Human
Class Rogue
Occupation: SI7 agent
Apperance: light skin (too much time in the snow), green eyes with blonde hair and a scruffy beard. slightly tall ('6"4) but otherwise average build. Wears average looking leather armor. Uses a saber with a long knife.
Backstory: Osman was born and raised on the streets of stormwind. His mother died in childbirth and his father is a disabled soldier, who died when Osman was still a child. Osman was forced to find security in a local gang. One day at the age of 17, he attmepted to pick-pocket a man who turned out to be a SI7 agent, who proceeded to kick his ass. After being thrown in jail, he was offered a job as an SI7 agent. Reluctantly, he accepted. Since then, he has become adept and the arts of espionage and fencing.
If anyone wants to join, post your character profile here and I will start the rp
Name: Hector Marvock
Age: 25
Race: Human
Class: Warrior
Occupation: Solider
Appearance: The tough solider persona fits Hector perfectly. A cleanly trimmed goatee sits on his face, while a mound of red hair, tied firmly in a pony tail, flops aimlessly while he runs. His blue eyes are cold, while a scar runs vertically down the left side of his face. Unlike other soldiers Hector always has his armor on. On his back a giant two handed broad sword rest while at his side is a smaller, more mobile sword.
Background: Hector was born around the time of the First War. Being the 4th child of a family mages, Hector always was the black sheep. In truth he had no magical talent at all. While both his parents were off fighting with the Alliance, he spent many of his days with a High Elf tutor, who struggled to keep up with the rebellious youth. When Hector received the letter that his parents died, conveniently falling on this 18th birthday, he abandoned his home in Southshore and joined the Military of Loderan. Around the time of the purging of Stratholme, Hector abandoned Arthas and returned to Stormwind with Uther. There he has been part of the Stormwind elite guard.
Personality: Hector is a very outspoken person, though he doesn’t hesitate to throw in a joke from time to time. Hector always has a cigarette in his mouth. Though many people tell him that it is a bad habit, he reaction is always the same “eh…. Its something to do.”
Hope this is good enough for your RP. Haven’t RP’d for awhile so im a little rusty.
Clarimonde De Nemesio
Age 21
Human paladin
Hair, brown. Eyes violet.
Clair is the only child of a noble family, who ended up with the Order of the Silver Hand after her father got into some legal problems and gave custody of her over to them. Although she seems small and fragile, in reality she is healthy as a horse and easily as stubborn. She is a competent enough paladin, but her strengths are more as a teacher/archivist than as a headbasher. Usually possessed of a sunny and even disposition, she can turn moody, and occasionally even whines. Not beautiful, she is pretty instead.
Hello! I'm glad you started up an rp Grandmarshal I think everything else is dead. Can I join? I've been deciding which character to use; I think I want to start with the below one. Here's his resume.
Summary: Tanion is sturdy man, of fairly remarkable appearance, this is not on account of his once noble features, nor of his eyes, which appear as a bronze gold, an inheritance of his father’s. But the fact that he has at point in his life, been bereft of his right hand.
Tanion flatly refuses to discuss or even mention how he lost his hand, but most seem to be of the opinion that it was bitten off by some unsavoury ghoul when the Undead Scourged Dalaran.
He favours a long dark travelling cloak, which he wears over modest brown leather garb which appears to be made merely for travel, and not for combat.
His cloak has the iconic mage collar, which he tugs around his face, revealing only his shaggy dark hair to those watching him pass. His outfit manages to convey a sense of secrecy that might have seemed out of place on most people, but it seemed to perfectly suit this recluse stranger with one hand.
Background:
Of his past background, Tanion is reluctant to speak of, though rumours abound in the Inn that he often frequents.
According to the less than reliable ruminations of grizzled veterans of the Inn’s tap, Tanion was once a student at Dalaran. But when the Scourge swept through Lordaeron, the man barely survived. When he had recovered, hiding from the minions of the Scourge, and snatching food and sleep where he could, he found himself at odd ends.
His family, he was sure, had already fell victim to the Undead; he was adrift in a world that collapsed around him, he had no place to go, and even now he was harried mercilessly by Undead. He survived only because he escaped and hid, not because he fought.
Other than that, even the creative faculties of their ale burdened minds were stretched, and although they would speculate, none would offer a clear opinion as to why the man was so adamant against the mages which had also survived that day, or why he would not suffer their company.
As a result, the magical powers at his command are still weak and untrained. Crippled in both body and spirit, he wanders the roads between taverns and inns, endlessly seeking something. What he seeks none but he knows, and every step and every day was a struggle, with himself more than anything else it was surmised. He would perform rudimentary feats of magic and illusion for children and villagers when he arrived, and refused all payment. He needed only a place to rest his head and for this, he was never left wanting. But inevitably, when night fell, the villagers would be startled from their beds by a terrified scream, that unnerved them, and he was always gone by morning.
Despite the reputation for being aloof and somewhat strange, his tricks and stories were always eagerly anticipated, and some found his reserved nature charming.
Sometimes, when prodded by impatient children, he would tell them stories that he himself had been told as a child, and sometimes, without seeming to think about it, he would tell them some of his family’s stories.
Such as how his family earned the name Silvercap. His father would often regale him with the tale of their clever young ancestor, and how he would constantly outwit the arrogant court of ancient Strom in pursuit of the lady he loved, always with that ever present silver cap in his hands, as his heart was in hers. The little girls would smile happily at that, as the boys would either groan exaggeratedly or roll their eyes, but they listened attentively nonetheless.
Equipment:
He seems to have little in the way of possessions, content to travel as a rootless vagabond; living off his meagre talent and his luck.
Underneath his cloak, it is sometimes fancied, by those who knew the man, by sight if not personally, that a faint gleam can be glimpsed. Though what a mage, however untrained, would need with a mundane weapon was a mystery. And one they were happy to speculate on.
Dudeness
Linear Mode
