Dark Souls Roleplay, How about a change in scenery? Options

[The Solo Rollo]

Its about time we leave Tamriel and the Wasteland. Lets take a trip to Lordran shall we?

A quick summary I thought up:

A group of undead have joined forces to make their way through this harsh world. They all come from different backgrounds, some shadier than others, but the battles they have endured together have strengthinged their bonds, and all trust each other with their lives. However, the trials ahead of the group could prove too much for them...

Any ideas, please post.

EDIT: They trust each other, with their liver? Lives of course!

This post has been edited by The Solo Rollo: Jan 22 2012, 02:58 AM

[Uleni Athram]

Guys, sorry for the delay. But Rl has calmed down now and the break allowed me some free time to complete the Bios.
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(1)Name: Sibrand Parmestuv
(2)Name: Testrom Parmestuv
(3)Name: Cassira Parmestuv

(1)Gender: Male
(2)Gender: Male
(3)Gender: Female

(1)Class: Warrior
(2)Class: Bandit
(3)Class: Archer

(1)Gift: None
(2)Gift: Tiny Being's Ring
(3)Gift: Divine Blessing

(1)Looks: "I have been mistakenly hailed as the dubious Count of Carim. I've been born in a barn of a pitiful ranch overlooking the city of fair Anglom. I have no relations whatsoever to a suspicious-looking noble in a faraway land full of cut-throats. But that does not stop all the remarks I have. The ones about my red hair and green eyes are the worse."

(2): "Damn, mate! You'd probably born in a rock someplace, you haven't heard of Testrom the Mighty? Somplace like Carim, perhaps. Just like my brother. *laughs* Never mind, I'm just having my fun, is all. Well, if the silver hair amd the blue eyes doesn't get to you, my skintone probably will; after all, it IS rare. My days as a mercenary in Catarina bleached it tan, it did. Now, I'm indistinguishable from those joyful lads! I'm not complaining, really. I like the sun and the desert and the people. But don't get me started on their armors!"

(3): "... what do you mean, I can't pass for an Astorian noblewoman? I'm practicaly a queen's twin! So I know that my black hair is unusual, but look at my eyes, man! My eyes! Bluer than a goddamn sea in a stormy day!"

(1)Armor: The Hardleather set without the helm.
(2): The Mountain bandit set.
(3): The leather set, with a hood.

(1)Weapons of Choice: A mace and a heater shield. A shortsword for back-up.
(2)Weapons of Choice: A really big axe.
(3)Weapons of Choice: A rotting composite bow with a quiver of wrought-iron arrows. Cassira prefers death-dealing in a distance, but she can go berserk with a war-axe in close quarters.

Bio:

The triplets of the House of Parmestuv are the last among that fallen House. The name Parmestuv once struck fear and loathing in the nation of Zena, but a rival House with the help of the local army, subdued and brought low the Parmestuvs. Now, their name are but a whisper of memomries of a time when even should the Sun shine, Zena would be a dark place. The triplets themselves know of this dark legacy, and does their best to forget it.

Or in the case of Sibrrand, cleanse it of its infamy.

He joined the knightly order of Zena, but his name preceded him. Ten years of slavering as a low-rank initiate and still, he was not given the honor of being given the title 'Sir'. With his eleventh year as an iniate coming close, he decided to leave and be among the soldiers of Zena instead. There, did he find his true calling. The General didn't need posh gentlemen who bequeted themselves to be above the 'low peasants'; whaat he needed were skilled men that could subdue the alarming rise of the undead.

Sibrand gave him that and more.

He, and hundred others, volunteered to go to the nation of Lordran itself and end this crisis from whence it came. But it ended in a large massacre against the dread Black Knights that annihilated them all.

From the dead, Sibrand rose. He was then corralled to the North, to the undead Asylum.
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Sibrand craved for the revival of the House Parmestuv.

Testrom wanted adventure. And money. And women. And that golden hammer that was supposedly used by a guy called 'Smough'. Certainly, Testrom was a creature of want, bordering the unholy greediness that consumed their line in the first place, The triplets' mother always warned him not to let that control his mind whn he was but a child. And then she would give a meal much more bountiful than his brother's or sister's.

When he came of age, ignoring his brother's warning, he joined a mercenary band that roamed between nations, always on the look out for contracts and treasures. His time with them naturally toughened up his physique and the child was replaced by a brute. With them, Testrom found what he perceived to be the true calling of his life. Comrades, never-ending battles and riches. With him, the mercenaries grew more and more famous until the king of Catarina offered them a contract that would permanently seal their place in history.

Escort the archbishop to the famed Anor Londo and request a few books from the Duke's Archives. Perhaps the greatest library in the world might have a few materials regarding diseases. The deserts of Catarina was hit with an airborne virus that turned the sick into the wretched undead. There was ni cure that the healers could find.

They got to work immediately.

On the way there, however, they discovered that the archbishop has catched the virus. They had to cut him down before he could infect them all. But it was too late. Testrom shared a cup with the man during their travels and the virus made shortwork of him immediately. He then made shortwork of his comrades, his brothers-in-arms for what seemed like eternity, in his Hollowed madness.

Months after wandering aimlessly as an undead, he was corralled into the North.
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Whereas her brothers opted to leave house and find their own ways, Cassira stayed with her mother and helped her scrape a living in their ranch. She would hunt game in the woods with her bow and chop trees up for fire. When needed, she would go to the near city and do odd jobs for money. While she generally came and went as a courier between her mother and civilization, there were times that she did go there on her accord. During those periods, Cassira of the acccursed Parmestuv was shed away and she simply became Cassira. She would race across rooftops, climb walls and generally be a free creature

It wasn't long before eyes started to see her. And her old bow.

A man by the name of Tychus Amlom, renown for his skill in archery, immediately recognized Cassira's bow as an heirloom of House Parmestuv; the very same House that his ancestors once served faithfully. He hounded her when she was in the city, stalked her in the forest while she hunted, watched her chop wood better than any man he met. He had no loyalties to a dead House. Honor for his ancestors did not remind him of the ancient.

Her beauty did.

They met on a cold friday noon in the forest. She was obviously alarmed to know that a stranger watched her every move in the past couple of months, but calmed down once she realized his intent. For a price, he would teach her all of his secrets and the proper way of handling a bow. Naturally, she accepted. With her free time, they would meet. She would and he would oversee. She made mistakes. He corrected them with the gentleness of a servant. And a secret admirer.

She quickly learned in weeks what he learned in years. Truly, she was of the accursed line. She exhausted all of his knowledge and now, she had to pay.

One kiss. One kiss that turned lethal and in frustration for her reluctance, Tychus Amolon crushed her neck and stabbed her in the gut with an arrow. When he realized what he had done, he fled in shame and left Cassira to rot.

Her mother found her in her Hollowed state. She wept, but accepted her daughter's fate. She instructed Cassira to travel to the North and she 'will be given a safe haven'.

With her bow and trustworthy axe, she said her goodbyes and corralled herself to the North, to the undead asylum.

This post has been edited by Uleni Athram: Jan 28 2012, 01:20 PM