Reference RPG Introduction Service v2.0

Sir_Draco & DarkLordoftheFins present . . .

---

[i]Midair[/i], the click warned him of the inevitable . . . he had run out of ammo.

Both weapons stopped firing the second he hit the floor and he rolled away from the raging impacts of the two guys Uzi´s hammering into the floor of the bar. Uzi-Guys. he called men like this. Not precise, but uncaring and not worrying about collateral damage, they simply pumped lead into the air, knowing they eventually kill the guy they came for. Among all others.
People were screaming, running, panic spreading like a radioactive cloud. Soon the Club above, the streets outside and everyone around would be contaminated. Making the Uzi-guy´s escape easier, if they managed to kill him.

A big if, actually. He made it behind the bar, and splinters hit his face. Causing small wounds, as the bullets of both sub-machine guns hit the oak-wood of the bar. The bartender desperately tried to get to safety. Watching him, he did not even twitch as the splinter hit him. Instead allowing his hands to do their thing.

[i]Magazine. Thrown out. New one from the jacket. Pushed inside. Reloaded. Ready.[/i]

It all happened while he tried to estimate the situation. He saw one of the guys nearing him through a mirror above the bar he was hiding behind. A second of his movement he saw, before the mirror was shattered by another hit. And alcohol was spattered all of him. He cursed. The wood he was leaning against trembled and splintered, as another wave of lead hit it. Then there was silence and screams.

[i]He is reloading . . . [/i]

His body moved, before his mind gave his okay. Leaping up, the [i]Glock 17[/i] ready and raised, his eyes lurking over it´s barrel searching for something to kill. The second Uzi-guy had a full magazine, though. And he pulled his trigger. Bottles, wood and ash-trays exploded around him. As his own finger pulled the trigger. Once, twice. A third time and the third bullet got the raging guy with the firing Uzi. Probably he had been killed by the second shot. But a forth made it a sure thing. And went to the head. Then there was silence.

Nobody there. Nothing. The second guy in hiding, probably, as the dust settled and the last people made it out of the shattered remains of the bar. Slowly turning he checked every corner, slowly stepping out of his cover of the bar. The sound of something hitting the floor behind him made him turn. Grenade. He realized it as his body was already moving. Running, his left leg taking the energy of his acceleration and leaping through the last remaining window, as the explosion behind him grabbed him in the shock wave and send him against a car waiting out there. The alarm went of. The emergency system made water sprinkle from the ceiling above. And as he managed to get his eyes opened - the foams of the explosions biting in them, like little insects - he saw the Uzi-guy in front of him. He had his Uzi one handed pointed directly to him and his grin revealed several golden teeth. Spitting out, Joe looked up. As the guy pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened. Desperately, he tried to do it again.

"Chinese replicate, hm?" Joe asked the Uzi-guy. "Yeah they do that. Sometimes."

He raised his Glock and shot Mr. Uzi twice. As the man made his way to the ground, a third one got him in the head.

Joe raised himself to the feet, his ears still ringing. He checked them, but it would stay that way for hours. He knew. His headache had gone worth. And the question who wanted to kill him and why his partner and best friend had tried to lure him into a trap seemed less pressing than to find out who send the guys themselves. And where had these guys from Miami got to, anyway? And then . . .

[i]
Somebody would have . . . [/i]

[hr]
[i][b][hl=firebrick][color=red]
A Bad Day in L.A. ~ An Action Adventure Game[/color][/hl][/b][/i]

[hr]

[b]Tomorrow in the NSWRPF![/b]

 

[image=http://img14.imageshack.us/img14/8088/atlantis01.gif]

 

Players interested in AFaS character slots for Part Three should contact me! There's some fun stuff available...

 

The City Called Atlantis is now open and ready for players!

 

[image=http://www.filmofilia.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/08/frog_princess_3-535x297.jpg]

Announcing a Recruitment Drive!

The Disney RPG has begun celebrating the studio's newest picture The Princess and the Frog! As our first two missions wrap up, now is the perfect time to jump in! If you've been watching from afar, or had a character and dropped it, now is a great time to step in! All heroes from the Princess and the Frog are now open for play... from the strong willed Tiana to the dashing Prince Naveen! But you best watch out you hear! The wily Dr. Facilier has been seen lurking around the dark alleyways of New Orleans Square, up to no good I reckon!

The Darkness has tasted its first defeat, and ask the players, it is not giving up without a fight. Now is the time for all able-bodied Disney characters to aid their brothers and sisters in arms! An occupied Disneyland beckons... its time to take the fight to the enemy!

Just fill out your sheet, PM it to me, and you'll be on your way to front lines in due time!

[image=http://i188.photobucket.com/albums/z264/iiyabitesbigtoes/d14.jpg]
See you there!

-I_H

 

Kiel, Germany

The well-manicured man entered the playground like a living anachronism to his surrounding. Wearing his cold, blue suit of Italian silk and scanning the area with his sharp blue eyes, he finally spotted the elder man who sat on the park bench nearby. The elder man, wearing an old marine coat and a full beard looked down at the sand before him. His hands still held a piece of bread. Old and dried. As if he wanted to feed the pigeons, while watching the children play.

There were no pigeons, though. There also were no children. Nobody and nothing living was in the town. Only the well-manicured man and the old mariner on a playground, somewhere in rainy, grey northern Germany.

"They´re all gone." The old man, he was called Robert, mumbled and looked up.
"Yes, they are." Milton, as the well-manicured man usually called himself, replied. Milton sat next to Robert and looked at the deserted town around them. "Never liked Kiel, but the people were alright. The architecture is frightening boring. Ironic, the building outlived the population so easy, isn´t it?"
Robert looked at him, but said nothing. They sat there for a few minutes. As nobody seemed to return and it became clear nobody ever would Robert spoke first. "Is it him?"
"He is dead." Milton replied.
"And you know that for sure?"
"Robert, nobody has become aware of him in 2000 years. Maybe he is not dead. But he is gone." Milton said and sighed. Obviously annoyed by a discussion he had before.
"Then what is happening? It isn´t us. So who is it?" Robert asked and turned his head to him.
"Man." Milton replied. "Obviously."
"These blind children? You can´t be serious." Robert denied, but with a regret in his voice that betrayed his concern.
"Who else could have the ability to understand so much and so little the same time. Who else has the hunger to unleash these powers, not midning the consequences? Humanity is my only suspect." Milton said, sighed and smirked. Robert opened his mouth as if he wanted to reply something, but reconsidered. Then he asked with a face that showed concern.
"Any suspects? Any leads?" He folded his arms.
"One. Possibly. In Nepal someone seems to know something. We´re tracking him down. Otherwise, nothing." Milton said. Robert nodded again.
"A wicked mind. Still the worlds most effective weapon of mass destruction." Robert said and nodded. Standing up.
"I prefer nuclear warheads, actually." Milton said and looked up to the now standing man.
Robert looked down on him. Then he laughed out. A laugh as if it was from another person. It held authority and disgust.
"Yeah, but what do you know, son? What do you know . . ." Robert answered, turned to leave. Slowlymaking his way of the playground.
Milton could not get rid of the idea that Robert might have known something. But even Robert had no answers.

After all these years, they were with humanity in the same boat. They, like the humans, had no idea what this was about . . .

---

[hl=black][color=limegreen][b]
Sins of the Saints [/b][/color][/hl]

[hr]

[i]Coming on Saturday . . .[/i]

 

Here is a link to my RPG:Digamma Squad- A Republic Commando Tale. I am a new GM so please join my game. I need six players and they need to fill out this CS.

Designation (consists of RC- then 4 #s (except for clone advisor)):
Nickname:
Class:
Hobbies:
Quirks:
Armor Color (or splashes of color):

If you want to see the classes please look at my RPG>

 

One Week before the Game begins . . .

They had come in the middle of the night. His wife had opened the door and four uniformed men had entered his house and abducted him. There was no other word for it. They might have worn uniforms, but he felt like a victim, anyway. He had asked why they were there and they had told him to get into their car, immediately. Stupid as he was, Thomas had refused and now he wondered if his arm was broken. Or was it normal for a shoulder to hurt like that, after being twisted?
Prof. Dr. Thomas Moore was not used to physical violence. To anything physical, outside the theoretical physics of some scientific friends of him. He was interested in science. all kinds of science.

---

[image=http://www.webofmimicry.com/v3/war-room-temp.jpg]

Science was probably why the soldiers brought him here. Or it was the simple fact that in an interview with the Time Magazine earlier the year had been the name-giver of the recent historical events. He had accidentally called it "The Change" and the world had jumped at this term and had made it it´s own. He had hoped people had forgotten it was him, who had called it that first. But probably he had hoped for too much.

Whatever it was, he was the only person not wearing a suit or uniform in the room. Six levels beneath the Pentagon he had found a seat with a small label on it. A label with his name written on it. Next to him was [i]Jonthan Wyler[/i] from the MIT, a quantum physicist and candidate for the next Nobel prize and to his left was an elder woman he knew very well. [i]Patricia Farnham.[/i] Mass Psychology. And the author of some of the most popular but useless theories in moder science, if anybody asked for Thomas opinion. Frightening enough she had been invited.

With the [i]President of the United States of America[/i] entered almost thirty people. They all wasted no time. Sat down and began speaking, ignoring the three civil guest assembled there. The topic: What are we facing? How great is the danger of the nation? What can be done?

The Change had cost many American lives. They had many questions and fears, that much Thomas could see.

The President summarized it all in his first question. "What the hell is going on?"

And all hell broke loose. People were offering their opinions like they were discussing prizes on a bazaar. Thomas only noted how frightening ineffective discussions on this level of command were, these days. Fear changed everything, obviously. After fifteen minutes order returned and it were only two more people yelling at each other.
[i]General McKinsey[/i], a tall, broad shouldered bald headed man whose hands cut through the air while talking, as if breaking the necks of invisible enemies and [i]Jordan Spencer[/i], Secretary of Health and Human Services and a well-known powerful advisor of the President. Thomas had figured out, why they all were so anxious, by then. Some hints were dropped during argument. Obviously something had happened. Something in Germany. Something similar to the mass vanishing of people earlier the month in Kansas.

"Sir, Mr. President, it is ridiculous to believe this is not a targeted, intended attack. We have analysed the situation carefully and our people all agree this is an attack. First us, now an ally. Only western nations seem to be targeted." General McKinsey spitted his words out.
Spencer answered before the President could."So, who is it now? The Russians you suspected last month are now in a civil war. Terrorists? Is the most mysterious happening in world history the result of a terror attack, General?" Spencer´s voice mocking. He did not even try to conceal his disgust for the General. "Face the facts, this is not any nation at all!"
The General gave him a displeasing look and went on. Addressing the President, still. "Sir, considering the resources, the political implication and world situation, we think China is our only suspect for an attack of this proportions." The President looked from one man to the other, obviously unconvinced.
"Has there been any sightings

 

TROPICAL TERROR NOW ACCEPTING PLAYERS!!

After a new rejuvination of senses, and a good smack in the face, I have opened back up my thread with a new post. I would like anyone to join who wants to.

CHARACTERS NEEDED

Jedi
General Grevious
Clone Troopers
Other

I can't wait to see CS's!!

 

Once upon a time in the west...

The man rode into the dusty west Texas town, his brown horse plodding down the dirt road in a light trot. His face was rough with stubble, his features bronzed by innumerable hours in the hot sun. Still, this was not such an odd sight to the townsfolk, who were used to such strangers riding into town daily. Besides, considering the impressive revolver sitting at his sight, and the cold look in the man's eye, this was not one to be trifled with.

He drove his horse with an almost mechanical precision as it came to a halt in front of a saloon. It was the sort of building that clearly predated the bulk of the town, a relic of a possible bygone era - or perhaps the only building left standing following some tremendous incident. The man wasn't terribly concerned with the history of the building, and, after tying his horse to the hitching post, he confidently strolled through the doors into the building.

The bartender and regular patrons, accustomed to this sort of gusto, didn't even bother to turn around. Smoke hung heavy in the air, and it was difficult to make out any individual conversations in the sheer ruckus of it all. The man strolled up to the counter, and pulled out a rolled-up piece of paper. He carefully unfurled it on the counter, and pointed to the center.

"You seen this man?"

The bartender merely nodded. Suddenly there was a tapping on the man's shoulder. He spun around and came face to face with the outlaw he had been tracking.

[image=http://i395.photobucket.com/albums/pp39/darthramza/man_with_no_name_blog_a.jpg]

"You after the bounty?" the outlaw asked.

"Nope," the man replied. "I just want you to tell me where the gold is."

"Where the gold is? I don't know what you're talking about."

"In that case..." his hand moved to rest above his holster. "Yeah - I suppose I want that bounty." The outlaw's hand moved to a similar position.

Their fingers twitched slightly.

Eyes squinted into beady rays of pure focus.

Seconds seemed to stretch into eternity.

And then -

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

Coming soon to the NSWRPF - Get rich, or die trying.

 

STAR WARS: THE GATHERING STORM

[image=http://images1.wikia.nocookie.net/starwars/images/9/92/Rebels-BF.jpg]

Every member of the Rebel Allience had a different reason for banding together to throw off the shackles of the Galactic Empire.

They each had different routes that led them to their ultimate destination of the Rebellion.

The Gathering Storm follows six new recruits on their adventures to and with the Rebellion.

Each has had a chance meeting with a man named Tiree who has sent them to an abandoned mine on Bothawui to catch a one way transport to a hidden Rebel base.

After that... who knows.

 

---

"The body was found with a scalpel in the back - like you can see here. Arms splayed, shirt torn, head turned to the side. Killer gave him what we call a Glasgow smile."

"That's...sick."

"It gets worse."

"...my God."

"We looked up these symbols. You won't like what we found."

[hr]
[link=http://boards.theforce.net/non_star_wars_role_playing/b10755/30740863/p1/?0][b]No Safe Haven[/b][/link]

[hr]
looking for players

don't expect to survive

thank you

 

The Second Galactic Civil War, Planet: Kashyyyk, Year: 0.6 ABY

The small group of troopers grazed the surface of the grassy planet. They had been at the planet for a distress signal had been called out. They passed through the large section of over-grown trees, walking with agility and stealth. Moving with some speed, the Sergeant of the group ordered them all to halt. For precisely two seconds he gazed at trees and bushes, there was no creature in sight.

?Move out.? the Sergeant called out simply. They had walked at least mile from where they were attacked by the savages. The Wookiees of east Kashyyyk brutally punched and stabbed them with spears and other native weapons?. The Sergeant then got on his comlink and called to a Imperial Starship.

?Starship Baritone when will that ground support be here? We have already been attacked! We need that support!? There was no response from the ship, only static?. ?Again, when will you get that ground support down here?? He asked once again, but only silence at the ship. Then he saw it, a huge explosion that belonged to Starship Baritone high up within the atmosphere. He saw parts of the ship start to rain down in a fiery pour. But then, a little cargo-ship came flying out from the ruins of the old starship, it seemed to be trying to escape massive explosion. ?Why god damn! That?s the Millennium Falcon! How do they blow up a freakin? starship!? The sergeant screamed.

Inside the cockpit of the Millennium Falcon

In the small cargo-ship there was woops, hollers, and grunts from the two space pirates/rebels ?Well Chewie, that was a great run now lets get this baby outta? here! Hit it Chewbacca!!? Han yelled over the side of his shoulder. Chewie then reached over to the hyper drive switch to his right. When Chewie pulled the red switch there was a unsatisfying clank and a grinding of gears?

Han then yelled, ?Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!!! What the hell, the hyper drive is out again? This is the second time this week! Chewie, me and you lets go check it out??

The Second Galactic Civil War, At the east side of Kashyyyk, Year: 0.6 ABY

Commander Sharp of the 603rd was hiding in the thick bushes behind the small village of Wookiees. He had made a deal with the Wookiees, if they hid him from the stormtroopers that the imperials had sent, he would help them join the rebellion. Commander Sharp got out of the bushes and started speak in Shryiiwook, ?Thank you guys a lot, the attack on them was necessary.... Again thank you. Now, you said you had a ship waiting for me?? there was a short pause then the lead Wookiee spoke, ?Yes, yes we do, but remember out little deal...? The wookiee said as the two of them walked to the X-Wing owned by the native Wookiees. The both got in and went off to Yavin 4, a planetary Rebel outpost?.

The RP will follow the life and times of two Stormtroopers, Commander Sharp(He is currently working on Kashyyyk to build a GOOD cloning facility with his fellow Wookiee counterparts) and Sergeant Tye(Is currently with the 501st Legion of Stormtroopers). In this RP you will be able to create you own character(Stormtrooper, Bounty Hunter, Officer, ect.) and be able to join the Rebels, Imperials, or Neutral.

 

There is a clear cut qualification every player needs to have, to join this game. If you don´t have it, I am sorry. Then this is not your game.









































If you don´t love Star Wars, you´re out!

Everybody else is welcome. To Coruscant.

[image=http://images4.wikia.nocookie.net/starwars/images/9/94/GalacticCity_sunset.jpg]

---

[link=http://boards.theforce.net/role_playing_forum/b10328/30801303/p1/?2][b]The Silent Cities of Coruscant ~ A game for everyone[/b][/link]

[hr]


The boy had slept, well. He had played until it had been late at night and his mother had forced him to bed, only to see him fall asleep the very same moment. He was only ten years old, but had developed a marvelous endurance for a boy his age. So many things had been unusual about him. He might have been called a prodigy, would he not have been called something else. A slave. And so he dreamt of freedom. As he did almost every night.

The sun woke him up. A new day. And a cool one. Anakin smiled. "At least the heat-wave is over." He smiled and sat up, opening his eyes carefully. As he usually did. Expecting the bright twin-suns of Tatooine to blind him immediately. They didn´t. And as he felt his hand looking for his glass of water next to his bed, he missed that one, too. Not the glass. but the end of the bed, actually. As he was lying a much larger one. A breath and the smell of metal and oil filled his nose.
[i]
This is not Tatooine.[/i]

Shocked he looked around, saw a door. An enormous bed, which he was in. A deactivated console nearby. And outside the window an enormous city. Much, much larger than Mos Espa. Larger than Mos Eisley even. It was the hugest thing he had ever seen in his life. Had Watto sold him? Where was he?

"Mom! MOM!" He yelled out and leaped out of the bed. The floor was cold. It was of metal. And as he neared the door it opened automatically. Only Hutts had such doors. But he did not think this was a Hutt place. "Hello!?" He yelled into the empty apartment and slowly stepped out of the bedroom. "Is anybody here?" He asked, now not yelling anymore.

Anakin had this bad feeling deep in his heart there actually was nobody there. And with wide eyes he looked around. "Where is everybody?" He asked. And felt tears come to his eyes. "What did you do to my Mommy!"

[hr]

[b]Do want to let this little pal wander through the empty streets all alone?

If not, visit the game and join us for the adventure [/b]

 

Some might have heard about it. But Sins of the Saints had ended it´s first Chapters and a few spots will open now again for new players. To make entering the game easy, the new Chapter is again a story of it´s own. Allowing players with no knowledge of the game to enter it and enjoy our ongoing story without having to read through 13 pages of story.

Submission of new CS for Chapter VIII will go until 30th March.

---

[b]Flight 2440[/b] [i]from Tokio to San Francisco[/i]

Marcus Osborne sat in C6. Economy class. And he was actually used to first class. A shame it had no been available for whatever reasons. So he had to take what was possible. He needed to go to San Francisco. He needed to talk to Prof. Monroe. Actually it was not too much said to argue the future of the planet might depend on it.

He sighed and his hand touched the small but heavy suitcase he was wearing. Diplomatic Immunity. A wonderful thing when someone carried a load like this.

"You seem to be nervous. Not used to flying?" He heard a voice from besides him. Marcus looked at the man next to him. A well dressed guy in his early sixties, perhaps. "No. No I am fine." He said and smiled. "I fly a lot, actually. Usual thing for my line of business." He smiled. A nervous smile. The man nodded. Then took a moment longer than one would have thought to ask. "What is your line of business then? Salesman?" Marcus looked at him. Could he be mistaken as a salesman? Yes, perhaps. He usually tried to be an unassuming presence. "No, I am a business consultant. Security. More or less, I am someone who secures facilities." He said and nodded. "A spy!" the other man said laughing. "Quite much the opposite, I´d say." Marcus smiled again, but somehow he felt uncomfortable with that dialogue. Not that he was giving away anything. Or even telling the truth.

The man nodded. "Fine by me. Only joking. Tell me, is it normal for a cloud to do that?" The elder man asked and pointed towards the window. It darkened already. The cloud becoming a thick black mass that seemed to surround the airplane.

Marcus looked back it him. And the man seemed concerned now. Everybody was. "Depends." He said.

The man looked at Marcus. "Depends on what!?"

Marcus only smiled and touched his suitcase. He fought tears as he spoke. And looked down on the black leather, as if he was looking at a dying loved one.

"That depends on what you consider normal anymore."

[i]Too late. He had been too late.[/i]

[b]The Change[/b] was here . . .

[hr]

[hl=black][b][color=orangered]The Sins of the Saints[/color][/b][/hl]

[hr]

[color=orangered][b]Chapter VIII: The Passenger[/b][/color]

 

Notes: I am spycoder9...

Inside Summerton, Virginia

The coroner examined the sick body, clothed in tattered clothes. The stories were that he had just started trying to kill people in a park, sitting calmly and then bouncing all around. He had murdered two women, an older mother and a twenty year old daughter. They both were resting near this man?s body as of now. Then the story had said he had just started ripping at his shirt and then foam had poured over his mouth. Then he had fallen over and died.

The coroner bent over the body, examining the mouth. Strange, he thought, the mouth had been curved down a second ago. An arm jerked up and snatched his arm. He screamed but then he realized he was alone, no one there to save him. The man sat up, then faced the coroner. He reared back and then leaped at him, his lips curling back to show sharp teeth. The coroner cringed as he snatched up a syringe and stabbed the man in the neck. Yellow greenish blood squirted from it, causing the coroner to scream. But the man was indestructible?and soon the coroner would be too.

When the Walls come up?
Feelings come out.

Quarantined

Coming in April?

 

Winged's first NSWRPF game...



[image=http://img706.imageshack.us/img706/3449/rosei.jpg]



[image=http://img97.imageshack.us/img97/9775/roguewp.jpg]



[image=http://img204.imageshack.us/img204/7302/raventd.jpg]



[image=http://img260.imageshack.us/img260/8383/titleki.jpg]




"...the prophets prophesy lies in my name: I sent them not, neither have I commanded them, neither spake unto them: they prophesy unto you a false vision and divination, and a thing of nought, and the deceit of their heart..."




Summer 2010

 

The Galaxy.

[image=http://images4.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20050720221441/starwars/images/1/14/Galaxy1.jpg]


It is filled to the brim with sentient life, trillions of beings whose lives and actions sustained the Force, a metaphysical, binding, and ubiquitous power. These trillions of life forms were unaware of their importance. They were part of a never-ending cycle, their lives and deaths essential to the Force, which was essential to the galaxy itself.

When beings passed on, they became one with the Force, now apart of the binding power of the galaxy. Past events preceding the galaxy?s own creation were stored in the limitless span of the Force. The Future, reaching all the way to the galaxy?s destruction, were seen in full clarity.

Time was sustained by the Force, each time period linked to each other, like threads of yarn on a much grander scale. These ?threads? are held up by the Force. They were composed of different eras of history, they themselves held up by significant. If any imbalance of the Force occurred in any of these threads and was left unchecked, time, the Force, the galaxy and life inhabiting it?would cease to exist.

This is exactly what was happening.

Events were not playing out like they would be. People who lived died, and people died now lived , throwing the ?threads? out of kilter.

In order to right these discrepancies, Jedi Masters from time?s past have called upon heroes from all across the galaxy?s history, plucked from their respective times.

Human or wookie, Jedi or Sith, it did not matter. All assembled would be apart of the greatest group ever assembled in history, recorded or unrecorded.

They would travel across time, fixing the kinks of galactic history. They would be known as THE WATCHMEN..

---

This RP is inspired by Dubya_Scott's groundbreaking game in the NSWRPF, [link=http://boards.theforce.net/non_star_wars_role_playing/b10755/23485212/p1]Exiles[/link]. All credit for this idea goes to him. Hopefully, my game is half as good. So, a shout out to him, and a thank you as well. [face_peace]

 

[image=http://images.easyart.com/i/prints/rw/lg/1/0/Ansel-Adams-Oak-Tree-Sunrise-10064.jpg]

Small Hills Summerton, VA

Standing tall and proud, the elderly man crouched against the oak tree, resting his legs. He had been walking for ages. Thoughts whirled through his massive mind, and as he rested his head against the tree, memories flooded through his head. The man at the park, his wife and daughter, near him. His wife was using her wheelchair, but she had taken her first few steps. His daughter had been supporting her, but at her home she supported her own family. The man had snapped. His wife was gone first.

Pain ached his heart. His wife, batted to the sidewalk, her brittle bones most likely twisting and turning. His wife, squirming, as the man leaped at his daughter. Hands at her neck. She slid down the side of a tree, her eyes bulging. She was in an awkward position, arm twisted backwards. His wife, on the ground, dying. Him, pulling his gun from his belt. The man taking it, but still watching him. The man that had tackled the killer.

The elderly man noticed the fading sun in the sky. The world around him was a black and white, a depressing color, but he didn?t mind. The cough was getting worse, and his lungs were burning. At moments he had felt like water was in his lungs, like he was drowning. He stood slowly, but another man was coming up. A man like him. Alone.

?Hello,? the elderly man whispered. His voice floated in the wind.

?They are dead,? the man said slowly, ?They are dead, doomed and dead.?

?Don?t be so dreary. You will lighten up eventually.?

?How do you lighten up in here? How do you lighten up when you know what will happen to them??

?Let fate take its hold,? the elderly man said, getting up slowly and walking away, fading away in the fog.

Characters ARE Wanted! Newbies, Oldbies, Anyone allowed.

Quarantined

 

Coming soon...

An RP by Sarge221...

STAR WARS: XENOPHOBIA

[image=http://i312.photobucket.com/albums/ll340/Sarge221/xeno2.png]

"Sometimes the most terrifying, the most dreaded weapon that can be used or misused, is the one that the galaxy already forged."

 

I remember my vision as clearly as the day I had it.





Darkness spread across every reach of the land.
[image=http://i395.photobucket.com/albums/pp39/darthramza/darkness-725288.jpg]





Villages engulfed in flames.
[image=http://i395.photobucket.com/albums/pp39/darthramza/140956981_54bcd913df.jpg]





A faceless king and his four demon generals.
[image=http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/76/Pentagram.png]





The forces of light reassembled into armies of darkness.
[image=http://i395.photobucket.com/albums/pp39/darthramza/designdev_20080201_1.jpg]





And at the center of it all... the one object on which all of fate revolved.
[image=http://i395.photobucket.com/albums/pp39/darthramza/roman-glass-d20.jpg]





Yes, I remember my vision, even fifteen years later.



I remember because the next day it came to pass.



Coming soon to the NSWRPF - How can you win... when you have already lost?

The Saga of the Nameless Lands 2: Enthrone Darkness Triumphant

In the end, you've got to ask yourself one question: "Do I feel lucky?" Well, do you, punk?!

 

[no message]

 

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[b][u]Preview 1 (of 3): The Prophets[/b][/u]

[hr]

[i][What follows is an excerpt of a report authored by Inspector Terence Fairchild of the Imperial Bureau for Investigation of the Supernatural (IBIS)][/i]
[blockquote]
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"...Echidna and Typhon were near-identical in terms of their structure, execution and overall objectives. They were conceived by the Deputy Director-General, who has since resigned his post.

Despite the undeniable failure of the twin operations, IBIS Command decided to press on with their original plan. Operation Cerberus was birthed from what meagre intelligence they had gathered, and set into motion at least three months ago*.

No agents have returned alive, and Command has disavowed all knowledge of the operation (necessitating this internal investigation). IBIS Field Support was able to extract three of our Prophets, who were returned to headquarters for an extensive debrief. I have included a brief profile of each for your consideration:
[blockquote]
[b][color=deeppink]The Rose[/color][/b]:

I consider her to be our most valuable asset. She is the illegitimate child of the Japanese statesman Kaneko Kentaro, currently serving as Minister for Justice under the Ito administration. She was born in 1874 to an American mother, during Kentaro?s schooling at Harvard University. Kentaro was never made aware of his daughter?s existence.

Her abilities manifested at the age of four years old, and through considerable good fortune we were able to ?acquire? her shortly afterwards.

She is timid, submissive, and fiercely intelligent. Many a chauvinistic agent has dismissed her advice, to their (occasionally fatal) disadvantage.

She specialises in the interpretation of astrological signs and portents, and has an accuracy that rates in the ninety-eight percentile.


[b][color=darkred]The Rogue[/color][/b]:

A volatile and devious creature, to be sure. He was born in Wyoming around 1860, and raised as a rancher?s son. He stayed there right up until 1892 and the breakout of the Johnson County War. He fled after almost being lynched for rustling. After a series of travels, he ended up in Washington D.C.

There he became friends with the writer Robert Underwood Johnson, who introduced him to Nikola Tesla. Tesla in turn recommended him to us.

He displayed great keenness from the moment his training was completed. His precognitive skills were already highly developed, and he has several successful missions to his name. This year he led the investigation into Field Marshall Roberts? discovery in Pretoria.

He is temperamental, though, and prone to bouts of impulsiveness. His preferred method of precognition is to combine gastromancy and extispicy, by devouring the entrails of particular creatures and then allowing them to speak 'through' him.

[b][color=indigo]The Raven[/color][/b]:

A more enigmatic and unemotional gentleman I have rarely encountered. We have no details of his birth or of his upbringing. We know from his own passing remarks that he spent much of his adolescence in Dublin. We also have reason to believe that he spent several years working as a dirigible engineer in Venice.

He is alternately engaging and withdrawn. He has a habit of analysing whichever poor soul is assigned to work with him, and very often foresees a grisly death for them. He maintains a mask of utter impassivity throughout the entire game. To say that he is eccentric would be supreme understatement.

He is our only numerologist. He practices the art with such mathematical precision and religious devotion that I doubt there is anyone in the world who is more skilled in the field. He has been known to produce inaccurate results from time to time- and has persistently claimed that our ?unsophisticated interpretations? are at fault, rather than his predictions.
[/blockquote]
Thus concludes my preliminary report.

*The Prophets disagree as to when Operation Cerberus was initiated, and the paperwork available to

 

Star Wars: A space fantasy epic created by George Lucas, first premiered in 1977 with what would become the beginning of an ongoing franchise that has millions of fans.

Big Brother: A television show about people who are locked in a House with each other for a period of time, with the last person standing winning a substantial cash prize.


What would happen if these two were put together?



Star Wars: Big Emperor


Now Playing in the RPF.

 

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[b][u]Preview 2 (of 3): The Murder[/b][/u]

[hr]

[i][What follows is an excerpt of a report authored by Inspector Terence Fairchild of the Imperial Bureau for Investigation of the Supernatural (IBIS)][/i]
[blockquote]
[image=http://img35.imageshack.us/img35/3866/ibisl.jpg]

"...at this juncture I feel it is appropriate to re-visit the crime which triggered this investigation in the first place. The body is in the care of Scotland Yard, and their coroners are still attempting to determine the cause of death. They have so far been able to establish only that Mr Barrie was already dead before being abandoned to the Thames.

We had been forewarned to some extent by our Prophets (a full transcript of [color=indigo]The Raven's[/color] prophecy is attached). Regrettably, we were unable to prevent the murder.

We set about confiscating the deceased's property, including all papers pertaining to his work. As he was an author, the volume of documentation seized was not insubstantial. Most of it was of little use to us, though of course his unfinished draft for 'Nevergate' provided the basis for Operations Echidna and Typhon.

Appended to the draft was a brief poem. Almost no attention has been paid to it by our investigators. I believe it merits a forensic examination. The handwriting does not closely match Mr Barrie's, and there are notable stylistic departures from his normal work:

[blockquote]

[link=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G0z9_cszr_o]Fireflies[/link]

[i]I walked by the window
And stopped in the light
I stood there watching
The fireflies
Went down to the ocean
In search of a song
Wherever I'm going
That's where I belong

Fireflies, fly on by
You will never, ever see me cry
You won't see me cry
You won't see me cry.

Sand puddled pavements
Appear on the shore
If you ask for nothing
You'll get nothing more
I walked by the window
And stopped in the light
I stood there counting the fireflies

Fireflies, fly on by
You will never, ever see me cry
You won't see me cry
You won't see me cry.

Fireflies, fly on by
You will never, ever see me cry
You won't see me cry
You won't see me cry.

I'm watching fireflies
Watching fireflies
I'm watching fireflies
Watching fireflies
I'm watching fireflies
Watching fireflies.[/i]
[/blockquote]

Considering the information our Prophets have given us about Cerberus's failure, particularly the manner in which our agents apparently met their demise, these verses become all the more disturbing..."

[/blockquote]