On Our Soil (Sign-Ups OPEN)

The Players
Dyrian Velmoran (Espionage and Reconnaissance)
Abner Macullogh II (Demolitions)
Kitonwy Morgan (Demonology, Fire magic)
Themba Ajani (War Mage, Fire and Arcane)
Jaira Shadowbramble (Warden, Tracking)
Tahirus Sanvad (Arcane, Manipulation magic)
Marthias (Interrogation, Shadow magic)
Oakgu Bloodstalker (Tracker, Sharpshooter)
Dra'kesh Fireseed (Bruiser, Muscle)

In Booty Bay, it was relatively safer to be as far from the sea level as possible. The further one went down the tiers, the darker and smellier it got. Indeed, there were parts of the lower levels that were so deep in the planked decks that sunlight had a hard time getting through, and there were plenty of rats and vagrants who took advantage of it.
Meanwhile, on Booty Bay’s topside, things were cleaner and brighter, and occasionally, even a bit splendid. The Bronze Hornet, perhaps the classiest inn and lounge in Booty Bay, relatively speaking, had an exemplary third-floor banquet room that one could say was splendid. It had a large round table, and room for several more, as well as a bar. The floor was covered in fine artisan rugs and the walls were decorated with paintings and the Bronze Hornet’s heirlooms. It was splendid in a lavish way and had an edge of hominess, though there was no forgetting that one was still in Booty Bay, which one had a grand view of from large bay windows.

Tonight, the view was obscured by thick, burgundy curtains. The only light in the room came from the crystal chandelier hanging above the round table. The bar was empty. The splendid room was humble and the décor was mute. A number of figures sat around the table, their faces veiled in the singular, golden glow of the chandelier above. Small traces of talk traced around the table, but more often than not, the people in the room were silent. None of them had met before, and the circumstances that had placed them in a room together were, as of yet, unclear.

They all turned at the sound of heavy, muffled steps on the carpet. From one shadowy end of the room emerged a tall figure dressed in dark robes threaded with a shimmering weave. He came up to an empty space at the table and remained standing. He was over seven feet in height. Closer to the chandelier, his features were lit up. He was a draenei with purple complexion and long, dark hair. After several sweeping looks at the others, he spoke.

“Thank you for coming. My name is Tahirus. My family name is nonessential, as are yours. The Horde and Alliance had a conversation recently, and in that conversation, there was a unanimous agreement that a joint operation between the factions is a necessary element in the current predicament Azeroth faces. You’re all in this room because of that conversation, which, officially, never took place.

“I am asking you, on behalf of the Horde and the Alliance, to offer your skills and services for lucrative monetary reward that some of you could use to retire several times over, or clear your debts. Everyone in this room is qualified for the expected tasks. There is a great deal of risk involved. Because this is unofficial and unsanctioned, we are on our own. I understand if this situation is uncomfortable for some of you. If it is, you may leave now without any repercussions. Do so now, if you please.”

Several people at the table silently stood up and left the room. When no one else moved from the table, Tahirus spoke again.

“The Destroyer has initiated a wide-front war on Azeroth. The greatest advantage he has is the political divisions between our Horde and Alliance factions. Our mission, generally speaking, is to eliminate that weakness.”

The draenei waved a hand in front of him and muttered a word of power. The surface of the table birthed like a plume of dust, revealing a stack of bound papers in the middle. With a second word of power, the draenei manipulated a stack to each person sitting at the table.

“Let’s begin.”


---


In this thread, you play a member of the Horde or Alliance with a special set of skills. These skills should, in one effective way or another, make you indispensable to a special task force that finds itself in a number of different battle scenarios. Tech, espionage, demolition, sharpshooting, and stellar frontline hand-to-hand discipline are just some of the areas of expertise that are not only encouraged for characters, but fully expected. If your specialty is too niche or too general, your character and overall RP experience may suffer (largely because, 90% of the time, you may be twiddling your thumbs). So build a character accordingly, and adhere to the following sign-up.

Name:
Race:
Gender:
Expertise:
Physical Description:
Tools of Trade:

Expertise and Tools of Trade are the most important. Expertise can and should be more than a single word in length. If your character is a demolition expert, he or she is probably different from other demolition experts, and you should make that apparent; in the school of demolition, Character X excels at “depth charges,” “smoke bombs,” “fireworks,” “napalm,” “chemistry,” “timed devices,” etc. Tools of Trade includes what your character is regularly dressed in and also what items they bring with them on a mission. Please keep the information pertinent; unless the character is a highly specialized suburban assassin, it’s probably not important to include “toothbrush.”

NON-FACTION AND NON-PLAYABLE RACES ARE NOT ALLOWED. This is strictly Horde and Alliance, and the character roster will reflect this. Post any and all questions or speak with me directly, I’d be more than happy to elaborate on anything that’s unclear or unanswered.

Name: Dyrian Velmoran

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Expertise: Espionage expert, excels at gathering and interpreting information (well-versed in politics, notable levels of empathy), thievery, infiltration (both via stealth and disguise), and waylaying, misleading, or otherwise manipulating opponents.

Physical Description: Average height, light skin, lean / toned build. Well-kept, refined appearance. Middle-aged, wrinkles setting in, long, sharp features. Wavy dark brown hair to his shoulders, shortly trimmed beard. Hints of gray. Golden-brown eyes.

Tools of Trade: Lockpicks, distraction devices, smoke bombs, curved dagger, several small throwing knives. Generally, Dyrian dresses in dark gray leather, with a hooded vest, spaulders, reinforced leggings, and gloves for protection. However, he favors mobility and concealment over armor, so the level of durability that the leather affords is rather minimalistic. Beneath, he swaths himself in black, with a scarf concealing everything but his eyes. He keeps his setup light for adaptability in the event that he needs to disguise himself.

Name: Abner Macullogh II

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Expertise: Demolitions. Abner excels at the assembling, planting, and detonation of small, hand-crafted charges. He is able to create explosives serving a wide variety of purposes, from blowing holes in solid rock to blinding or even killing adversaries. Although not a chemist, he has memorized the properties of the substances he keeps on hand and is constantly coming up with ideas for (often unreliable) new bombs. Additionally, his membership in the now defunct Defias Brotherhood have left him with a number of black-market connections which he frequently uses to obtain illegal substances for his experiments.

Physical Description: At 6'4" and 150 pounds, Abner is a tall, thin and disheveled man who clearly takes little pride in his appearance. His loose clothes smell of tobacco and look as though they have not been washed in weeks. A belt lined with small metal canisters full of unknown materials is slung across his body. On his left hip, he carries unsheathed knife of noticeable length; on his left can be found a burlap satchel full of nondescript metal spheres. Abner is bald, but whether this is due to him shaving his scalp or the result of natural hair loss cannot be told simply through observance. In contrast with the rest of his unkempt appearance, his facial hair is neatly trimmed into mustache and soul patch. He is not a handsome man, and displays a number of facial blemishes that highlight his already unattractive features.

(He looks very similar to Woody Harrelson.)

Tools of Trade: Half-a-dozen flasks of volatile powders and liquids; bowie knife; bag of empty bombs; faded Defias bandana used as belt; small notebook of contacts, information, and bomb recipes

Name: Kitonwy Morgan
Race: Human
Gender: Female

Expertise: Demonology (particularly summoning and binding creatures, especially demons, or counteracting such measures), languages (speaks Common, demonic, and Orcish fluently, draenic and Darnassian less fluently, and can read and write all of those as well as troll, goblin, and Thalassian), demon and fire-related magical muscle, dabbling in the contruction of wards

Physical Description: Standing at five feet even and weighing in at a hundred pounds soaking wet, the young human is hardly an imposing figure. Her long black hair is usually mussed, as though she had forgotten to brush it that morning, and curtains of it usually hide her face, though she often pushes them back in annoyance. When she does, a sweet, pretty enough face can be seen. A pair of big, round glasses dominates her face, with wide, curious dark brown eyes behind them, always moving around and studying her surroundings. A pert, slightly-upturned nose and small mouth almost always curved into a friendly smile complete the picture of a curious academic, though she has scars and lean muscle that no average bookworm would get.

Tools of Trade: Kitonwy's clothing almost always consists of simple, handmade dresses, generally of her own make, and as of late worked with rudimentary protective spells. Hanging from her waist is a long broadsword, a paladin's weapon, far too large for her to wield. It bears the marks of battle, though, and when she draws on her magic, runes light up along the length of it, serving more as a spell focus than a physical weapon. She carries a bag from one shoulder, making her stoop under the weight of it. Inside are a change of clothing, a couple books about whatever her current fascination is, her own book of notes, a worn and much-loved spellbook, a veritable explosion of quills, a sturdy knife, a few vials of virgin blood, chalk, a bag of salt, a bag of malevolently-glittering gems, and other various sundry items for summoning. Tucked beneath the top of her dress is a pendant seemingly filled with swirling violet mist, from which angry red eyes can occasionally be seen, and around her wrist are two jeweled bands, one engraved with runes of protection to form a shield, the other engraved with runes of force, to push attackers back and stagger them.

Her demon of choice is a grumpy felguard named "Hunny" (she never uses his true Name to prevent anyone else from taking control of him).

Name: Themba Ajani

Race: Troll (Darkspear)

Gender: Male

Expertise: War mage. Expert in fire techniques, and most arcane techniques. Can make everything from fireballs to controlled arcane blasts. Pretty good at breaking opponents' bones with small, controlled arcane blasts. Ranged combat expert. Has some skill in mirror imagery and teleportation, but usually prefers the direct approach. Also specializes in arcane shielding.

Physical Description: Average height and build for a troll, but not overly muscular. His hands and ears are covered with scars, and there's a chunk missing out of the tip of his right ear. He has greenish-blue skin that contrasts sharply with his bright red hair which is braided into about a dozen separate braids and tied back. His tusks are only about six inches long, curving upwards. He wears deep red, sleeveless robes (mage T5), and matching cloth bracers. He has no other adornments, be it Darkspear-related or otherwise.

Tools of Trade: He travels very lightly, usually only carrying things to help amplify magic. Mana crystals are a must, but he usually doesn't carry anything else with the exception of a bag with extra clothes and food if he's traveling.

Name: Iraelia Dawntreader
Race: High Elf
Gender: Female
Expertise: Swashbuckling (hand to hand combat), ale drinking (she's strong stomached), lass bedding (I suppose that's high charisma). Languages: Common, Thallasian, Goblin, Gutterspeak, bits and pieces of Zandalli. High levels of deception and acting. And First aid skills

Physical Description: Scars, she has them you won't go more than a couple inches without finding a scratch, a dimple or jagged line where she's been patched back together. All of them have a story, though there aren't as many stories as scars. Hair's short and auburn lashed in a pony tail, eyes are bright and blue, lips are slight and pink. And here's where she slightly differs from other elves, girl's got muscle, she now a naval captain and an ex pirate, it builds on you when you keelhaul folks, set masts, fire cannons and while she suffered from burns from a long time, she's managed to absorb some sunlight and tan as much as an elf can. Despite a rather average height five foot, six inches, girl's got legs, providing an illusionary inch or two.

Tools of Trade: A cutlass, flintlocke pistol and a light damned stylish hat with a eather. Along with blasting powder, a knife, a flask and a tiny Jolly Roger on a stick, a charm and a joke. She's got a leather vest with a handful of bullets beside each button, a blouse and thick leather pants that secret a knife or two.

Name: Rothiron Dullahan
Race: Forsaken
Gender: Male

Expertise: Swordsman and weapons-master, tactics, able to control his rage into a cold fury, having also developed a personal fighting style with the Two-Hander. Combat medic, he has learned to treat wounds, or in his case decay. A former survivor of the Scourge Invasion, Rothiron also has notes on undead, and how to deal with them efficiently. He also possesses fluency in Common, Thalassian, and Orcish.

Physical Description: Standing at 5’11” when standing straight, his back is stuck in a hunch like most Forsaken. His blonde hair has lost much of its color, and his skin has taken on a pale blue tint in its decay. All things aside, Rothiron’s decay is relatively mild, but still notably undead, and scarred at that. Still, a measure of effort is made to keep his hair combed and an otherwise groomed appearance. He’s usually clad in his blue and gold Lordaeron guard armor and tabard (both showing their age) and a heavy black cloak that is typically released before combat.

Tools of Trade: His sword and armor from his days as a soldier of Lordaeron, as well as any weapon he is proficient with in reaching distance. A satchel in which he keeps his medical supplies, papers and ink and utensils, and a small book he wrote cataloging the fauna of Lordaeron and their properties.

Iraelia Dawntreader: Please revise your sign-up. While the character is fun and interesting, it's not appropriate for this thread. The team could use a femme fatale, but a pirate is more of an archetype, and not a military niche. Consider altering into a femme fatale or another role.

Rothiron Dullahan: Please revise your sign-up. We do want a combat medic, but it is coming off as a secondary skill with this character. There is nothing expert or striking about the current sign-up. Explore the combat medic or round it off more somehow.

Name: Jaira Shadowbramble
Race: Night Elf
Gender: Female
Expertise: She's police, capable of subduing all manner of beasts, people and things without being too, too rough. She's skilled in stealth, hand to hand combat, and lastly interrogation.

Physical Description: Like any night elf she's tall, she stands few heads taller than your average human, for a woman, she's imposing, her eyes are amber and feral, canines are pronounced and by the time you've checked out her legs they're muscular enough to be somewhere up your ass. Beneath the helm, it's clear she's young compared to most, young enough to 'fuck up when elementals invade and get sent down here to reflect upon my failures.' and young enough to grow a mouth after about ten years of contact with humans, her face is relatively blemish free, only a handful of scars, century vigils don't lend one to much combat, she lacks the silvery lines 'ten thousand' year old elves boast and the tattoos gained from ye old wild dragon hunts. She's got pair of black a shields split in two by her eyes, her flesh is dark and purple and her hair's green.

Tools of Trade: A moonglaive, knives, poison, enchanted cord and gauntlets with sharp enough fingertips to rend flesh. Magical runes and powders. A warden's mask and a thick, bladed cloak. And case of tools, the blades are sharp, polished, clean, but smeared blood still lingers on the handle.

Name: Tahirus Sanvad

Race: Draenei

Gender: Male

Expertise: Arcane magic, adept at illusion, artifice, warding, and augmentative spellwork. Complements and supports fellow spellcasters.

Physical Description: Dark purple skin tone, long black hair. Seven feet and three inches tall.

Tools of Trade: Channeling dagger, spellweave robes and charms/fetishes with warded spellwork. Leather body harness for added protection at discretion.

Name: Marthias
Race: Forsaken
Gender: Male

Expertise: Interrogation. Marthias is adept at shadow magic and mind control, as well as psychology. In short order, he can analyze a prisoner, play at his or her weaknesses, and break them, if he’s feeling “gentle.” Other times, he may simply inflict horrors on their mind until they confess, and perhaps even after. The result is usually damaging either way.

Physical Description: A calm mannered Forsaken, Marthias’ most distinguished feature is the black straps across his face holding his head together. Beyond that, the leather hides the damage aside from some wrinkles of the flesh, and his black hair is neatly combed behind his ears. He often goes dressed in sable and aristocratic dress robes, with long and loose sleeves over gloved hands. An unusual trait of his is his eerie smile, something that he is quite capable of holding even out of conversation and alone. The naive and gullible will think its indicative of a good nature, while the more aware and paranoid can only guess at its meaning.

Tools of the Trade: His own dark arts, most notably, as well as his mind and silver tongue. Beyond that, he keeps a rapier with a dulled-silver hilt at his waist, alongside a small curved knife, as well as a pouch of ritualistic reagents such as candles.

Name: Oakgu (Oak) Bloodstalker

Race: Orc

Gender: Male

Expertise: Tracking, sharpshooting and battlefield medic. Has a cunning ability to track most prey through almost any environment. He is deadly accurate and able to strike targets at extreme ranges with a ‘long-bow.’ Like many orc warriors, he is proficient in melee combat situations and carries two one-hand axes for the occasion. He knows Common and some Darnassian.

Physical Description: Compared to other orcs his age, Oakgu is very lanky. He’s young, at about the equivalent of twenty-one to in humans. He has no facial hair and course brown hair that ends at just over his shoulders. His skin is dark olive and his eyes are brown. Betraying his youth, his tusks are not damaged or heavily stained.

Oakgu usually wears some dark leather armor. His vest is reinforced with chainmail, which in woven into his leather shirt to minimize noise. He usually wears a patched cloak of green colors.

Tools of Trade: Oakgu’s bow, is his primary weapon. It’s a simple design, yet taken to an extreme. It’s nearly as long as is his tall. Two smaller axes hang from his belt and can be used instantly.

The large quiver over his back is his own creation and doubles as a small streamlined backpack. In addition to around twenty arrows, the quiver also contains pockets to carry tools to build arrows and repair his bow, a telescope and a large skin of water.

Far from being a healer, he was trained as a battlefield medic and to this day, keeps a rather involved medical kit (or what passes for one to orcish standards.) He’s able to set bones and patch injuries. However, he can’t do much to speed the recovery of wounds. He can treat poisonings in a general sense, but he’s unable to diagnose the exact poison.

Name:
Dra'kesh Fireseed, former member of the Blackrock Clan.

Race:
Orc

Gender:
Male

Expertise:
Close quarters combat, siege warfare, brawling, defensive fighting, fishing, cooking, blacksmithing, metallurgy, one-handed weaponry, shields, pain tolerance, basic linguistics (Orcish, Common, Taur-ahe), and surviving ridiculous levels of death.

Physical Description:
An imposing 6'6" and just over of three hundred pounds of predominantly muscle, Fireseed does not stray far from the stereotypical profile of the male orc. What differentiates him are the details: a darker olive almost grey green pigment, hundreds of healed over battle scars (including a particularly impressive one running from armpit to armpit across the back), blue eyes, the white hair of an elder, a wild mane of a beard, and two ceremonial braided knots in his otherwise similarly wild hair. A veteran orc warrior in almost all ways, Fireseed carries himself with an intimidating vigor despite pushing 80 years in age.

Tools of the Trade:
Dra'kesh has collected and forged a small armory of arms and armaments in his lifetime, but seeing as how he lacks the magical talents to carry an entire vault in his pocket he has to minimize to some basic essentials (for him). An orcish war-ax of Fireseed's making forged from Arcanite, a Titansteel spatha plundered from Ulduar that bears red etching that seems particularly potent against dweomers, a massive Truegold shield of recent creation bearing the iconography of the Horde, a set of full plate armor in custom Horde heavy infantry design with minor modifications and enchanting to reduce weight as well as provide homeostatic conditions, two balanced Titanium boot knives, a fur cloak lined with red protodrake scales, and a pack including such tools as a hardened Khorium smithing hammer, a segmented fishing pole with associated supplies, a knapsack, whetstone, canteen, sacks for basic storage, a goblin lighter, a small pot with spices, and finally an engraved blowing horn of vrykul origin that calls Varakesh, his semi-tamed red protodrake (who often carries his supplies if he cannot do so himself on a mission).