View Full Version : WAR X RP Judge Applications
05-26-2011, 03:48 AM
Submit your RP idea here. Tentative deadline for applications is May 29th. Use the following format:
Title: (You don't have to have one, but it helps)
Setting/Summary: (describe the genre and backstory of the RP in a few sentences)
Main Conflicts: (describe the primary conflicts that the RP sets up in a few sentences. What are the factions, goals, etc.)
Role of Teams: (describe how you think the Teams should be involved. How large are they? What kind of power do they have? What are they fighting over?)
RP: (Main body of your RP goes here)
05-26-2011, 03:55 AM
Setting: Post-post-apocalypse fantasy/medieval setting, with some magitek thrown in. It takes place on a continent in the Pokemon world thousands of years in the future, but Ash Ketchum wouldn't recognize it. After a war between the creators of the universe (the Nether Gods) and mankind, man is rebuilding under their savior, the Lifemaker. But when the Lifemaker is slain, a terrible civil war erupts, culminating in the emergence of the Black Wave, a race of monsters that comes from humans and Pokemon corrupted by the dead Nether Gods.
Main Conflicts: Not too sure of this yet. The overarching storyline, I think would be the defeat of the Second Wave, unstarted in my proposal here. There should also be various inter-city-state conflicts as they fight for dominance, and the threat of invasion of the entire region from the north is always present. There's also the mages vs normals conflict, some potential when it comes to the ancient technology beneath Saffron, the power in Mongiru Barro, or Fort Aer. Could use some help with this.
Role of Teams: I was thinking either in control or as a major part of one of the city-states, although I'm not opposed to the idea of inter-city organizations either. I already staked my team's claim, due to the fact that working in sentient ships into a fantasy RP takes a little explanation.
The Nether Gods were the first. Rising from the swirls of the creation itself, they emerged into a formless universe with inestimable curiosity and immeasurable power. They began to form the Nether to their will, and the darkness erupted with the light of the first galaxies. Stars and planets wheeled overhead, and for a time, it was good.
But the gods were not satisfied with their loneliness, so they began to create life to fill the void. Of the creators, one proved more successful than all others, and it was this world that flourished amidst the sea of failed experiments. Life swam and crawled and ran and flew from highest peak to deepest cave, and for a time, it was good.
Then, to the god’s surprise, the tumultuous symphony of this world gave birth to a new race of beings, forged by the universe itself out of its very fabric. Though these humans were weak individually and mindlessly primitive in comparison, the gods, for the first time, knew fear—for humanity was boundless, as they were, and the only leash upon their potential was time. And their experience of it was orders of magnitude faster than the gods, the rise and fall of entire civilizations being but the blink of an eye.
In panic, for humanity seemed to be growing at an overwhelming pace, the Nether Gods prepared to destroy mankind. Alone, the creator of the world that had birthed them vowed to protect them, yet he could not do it alone. So he chose one man from the teeming multitude to take his power. Using the strength of a Nether God, this chosen one waged war against the heavens, slaying the other gods before they could react. Yet the world was turned barren by the battle, and the chosen one set out bringing life back into it. For this he became known as the Lifemaker, ruling a domain of the world reborn stronger than ever, and for a time, it was good.
Man’s heart had always been open to sin, and it was through this opening that the dreams of the dead gods took root. Though wise and pure, the Lifemaker could not create a utopia for the imperfect, and was assaulted from all sides for his failure. Soon he was slain by his most trusted friends in his most vulnerable state. His power was spread across the globe, open for any and all to grab. Civil war erupted, parent against child, brother against brother, between those who remained loyal to the Lifemaker’s memory, and those who had slain him. No corner of the world was left untouched, no man, woman, or child did not feel the cold hand of war, as the armies of the loyal and the self-proclaimed “redeemers” scorched their way across continents. Even nature, its balance torn apart by the void formerly occupied by its guiding hand, took sides.
At the war’s start, the redeemers, slayers of their own guardian, had overwhelming power. Marching across land, sea, and air, they lay siege to the White City, capital of the Lifemaker’s empire, and threatened to tear down the stones in which his legacy was described. But as before, in times of crisis a hero emerged, and through his leadership the armies of the Lifemaker rallied, driving the redeemers back into the heartland of their resistance, the great underground city of Mongiru Barro.
Blessed peace returned as the world was given a chance to rebuild while the forces lead by the great hero lay siege to the rebel capital over a period of decades. Soon the defenses collapsed, and the hero marched into the city. Yet at the apex of their victory, he was given his greatest defeat. As he fought into the depths of the rebel capital, the enemies that he battled changed—the deeper he went, the less human they became. When he and his soldiers finally reached the palace of the rebel leader, they found a monstrosity, a creature that had lost all its humanity, its veins filled with that magical substance that is the ultimate form of power incarnate: Ichor, blood of the gods.
The hero was defeated, but not slain. Soon, the dreams took him as well, and he became the Slayer. The world was again opened to the horrors of war, but this time against an enemy that, although having its origins as part of the world, had now been turned utterly alien. The Black Wave poured forth from the gates of Mongiru Barro to swell and multiply, leaving no life in its wake. Once again, however, new heroes rose up, and the Wave was defeated, divided and conquered, driven back into the depths of Mongiru Barro, its origins exposed, its secrets given up, and its existence vanquished.
Yet the world was irrevocably scarred. The empires of the past era had faded, their technology and magic lost, and the people of the world had been left to rebuild from scratch. These people would forge new nations on the ruins of the old, to command and conquer. Centuries have now passed, and the Black Wave is now little more than a bygone era in the minds of most. Yet the Dead Gods remain, ceaseless and eternal.
All magic in the world has its ultimate origins in the Nether Gods. However, there are two main “branches” of magic in the world today, classified by the split that occurred during the Fall of Heaven: Life magic, which derives from the power of the Lifemaker, and Death magic, which comes from the deceased lords of the Nether, also known as the Dead Gods.
To some extent, every human is born with some innate degree of Life magic flowing in their veins. This power once belonged to the Lifemaker, but at the time of his death it was released into the world and found homes in every human being. Most people do not possess Life magic in sufficient quantities for it to have a noticeable impact on their lives, but those that do are considered mages, and wield varying degrees of power over the element that they control.
Death magic, contrary to its name, has nothing directly to do with necromancy or ghosts. Although it can indeed be used for such, so can Life magic. In terms of classification, Death magic is merely every form of magic that isn’t Life magic, i.e. innate to human beings. Thus, the powers that Pokemon wield are considered a type of Death magic. The primary way humans can wield Death magic is through Ichor. A rare, glowing, blue-green crystal-like substance found deep in caverns, Ichor can be tapped by any living creature or even inanimate objects as a source of magical power, but they must be physically joined with the user through a process called “infusion” that blurs the line between crystal and user. Although Ichor crystals never technically run out of power, they can only provide a small certain amount of magic at a time, like a thin pipe connected to a vast ocean. When refined into special liquid, Ichor becomes even more potent, but at the cost of volatility; liquid Ichor has a tendency to explode when disturbed too much.
Humans, however, were not meant to use magic, and as such, all mages take upon the risk of corruption. To be a mage means not only to wield incredible powers, but to be plagued by the whispering songs of the Dead Gods. The strength of these songs is directly related to the strength of a human’s magical power; the stronger their magic, the stronger the Call. The dreams of mages are eternally plagued by this song, and in mages that have started to be corrupted they even penetrate the waking hours. No mage gets to live to a ripe old age: either they go insane, turning into inhuman monsters that kill everything in their path, or they die before they go insane. It is for this reason mages are feared throughout the world, and in most places the use of magic is either strictly controlled or banned entirely, with violations usually punished by execution.
Life magic already poses a considerable threat, but for a human to use Death magic is to virtually assure their immediate corruption, for Ichor is nothing less than the blood of the Dead Gods. While it is possible for exceptionally strong-willed people to resist being corrupted for years after infusing oneself with Ichor, they either die or are corrupted soon after. Pokemon and even magical artifacts infused with Ichor also gain its benefits as well as its corruption. Yet Ichor infusion is tempting to many mages who need a quick jolt of power, perhaps to defeat persecutors, and there is a thriving black market for the substance. In dark corners of the world, experiments with Ichor run amuck, the legacy of mages looking for a way to increase their power.
The greatest fountains of magical power, however, are the Dead Gods. These gargantuan corpses, miles in length, are so dense with magical energy that even non-mages can sense the power in the air when nearby. So far, only one has been discovered, but others are surely around, buried deep within the earth. Being near a Dead God for long periods of time is highly unrecommended, and it was the corruption of the miners of Mongiru Barro over generations that unleashed the Black Wave upon the world. Nevertheless, miners continue to sneak into the tunnels of Mongiru Barro through the natural Crystal Caverns to their north to mine Ichor, believing that as long as they do not spend too much time near the Dead God, they will be unaffected.
05-26-2011, 03:59 AM
Although it is said that in ancient times the layout of the world was different, the Fall of Heaven massively reshaped its geography, and only bits of pieces of the original landmasses survive. Aria is a continent in the northern hemisphere of the globe, near the equator. To the north lies the region Corriban, separated from Aria by a vast mountain range at the northern side of the Estrun desert. To the southeast is Qunnui, and to the east and west are the vast Atlan and Parun oceans, respectively, and whether there is any land beyond them is unknown. However, the sea that ought to be southwest of Aria has been consumed by the Ending World.
Due to the location of Morrigu Barro at its heart, Aria was the hardest-hit by the Black Wave. While the other regions possess functioning, region-scale governments, Aria’s people have divided themselves into a series of city-states. In past centuries these cities were constantly at war with each. It was only a few decades ago that, with the threat of invasion from Corriban, that the Arian city-states banded together to present to the world a united face. Magnasanti, both the largest city in the region and its strongest military power, houses the Arian Council, an embassy of the larger cities in Aria. Nonetheless, old grudges remain, and the city-states are constantly vying for power through political and economic means.
Magnasanti, the Machine City
Before the Black Wave, Magnasanti was the provincial capital of Aria, and its ruler reported directly to the Lifemaker at Lamentor Vail. Its people remember its past glory, and generally regard the other cities as lesser. Magnans, as the people of Magnasanti are called, are extremely industrious and traditional, and there is little in the way of new art or entertainment here as all citizens toil day and night for the glory of their king. The city’s nickname derives from this character, Magnasanti is like a single giant machine, with all its citizens working in industrial harmony.
However, the people also have a deep respect for history, and the few surviving buildings from before the Black Wave are preserved as historical artifacts. This respect for history has often driven Magnasanti into conflict with Saffron, which contains many relics from the ancient past.
Magnasanti is ruled by a king under a harsh police state. Even minor crimes are punishable by death here. Pokemon must be kept under the watch of their owner or a city guardsman at all times, and magic is expressly forbidden unless supervised. Magnasanti also boasts the largest population and army in all of Aria, all of whom are fiercely loyal to their king.
Saffron, the City of Ancients
The oldest city in Aria, possibly the oldest in all the world, Saffron’s oldest ruins are rumored to date back to before the Lifemaker. These ruins, however, are not easy to find; Saffron has been destroyed and rebuilt so many times, with each new version of the city being built on top of the wreckage of the last, that what remains of the original Saffron is buried miles beneath the surface. Cracks and tunnels in the ground let adventurous explorers descend into the darkness, and some come back with tales of magnificent ruins of glass and steel, of light emanating from glass orbs without sun or fire, and things that still prowl the dark. Most dismiss these tales as rubbish, but at night, if the city is exceptionally quiet, one can almost hear what might be the rumblings of ancient machines coming online…
For much of post-Wave history Saffron has been ruled by Magnasanti; it was not until the Magnan-Paran War that it finally overthrew Magnasanti rule. However, Saffron still retained the title of Lord, the position that ruled the city under Magnan rule and continues to do so today. Saffron’s primary revenue source come from the tourists that arrive from all across Aria to see the ancient ruins.
Itum, the City of Progress
A city based on free enterprise and the march of science, Itum has been a powerhouse of technological progress since the Wave. With recent innovations like the variable Pokemon-drawn cart that can change its shape to attach to different species of Pokemon, or the Efron Lamp, an oil-burning lamp that boasts a 200% increase in efficiency over the standard oil lamp, Itum is seen by people all across Aria as the shining, futuristic capital of progress.
Living in Itum, however, is not without its drawbacks. The loose reigns the government has on the city make all but the most violent crimes (and violations of patent laws) go unpunished. A lack of ethical consideration among innovators makes it easy for a rogue Pokemon to go berserk from mistreatment and flatten several houses. Worst of all, the failed experiments of alchemists are simply poured into the river, poisoning the Itum poor that get their water from it. In addition, the use of magic is completely banned from Itum; any mages caught are killed on the spot by the city guard.
Itum is ruled by a triumvirate. Although who gets to enter the triad is based on elections, usually the three most wealthy people in the city are elected, due only in part to Itumites’ worshipping of wealth and the wealthy. Itum is a city where, it is said, anyone can become great if they have an idea and the drive to work for it.
Parasanti, Soul of the Earth
Often described as Magnasanti’s opposite twin, Parasanti was founded in the days of the Lifemaker under the idea of a peace and equality. Parasanti has been protected from attack by the impenetrable Endla Forest. Parans live in communion with nature, often speaking of becoming “one with the forest”, and there are more Pokemon working together with humans here than anywhere else in the world. This character is even present in the architecture of the city, whose buildings are often made to look like enormous trees.
To assume Parans are uncivilized folk, however, would be an egregious mistake. A city of the arts, Parasanti is a capital of all forms of expression, with artists and musicians and entertainers praised as being paragons of its society. Technologically, Parasanti is no less advanced than any other Arian city (Itum asides), boasting an impressive waste disposal and aqueduct system. It is not long before many visitors are captured by the splendor of the city and decide to stay.
Parasanti is ruled by a democratically-elected governing body. Party politics are omnipresent in Parasanti, and there are so many always-changing political parties that few citizens can remember them all. As a result, Parasanti’s government is criticized as inefficient, ineffective, and slow, a stark contrast to Magnasanti’s elegant ruler. Nonetheless, Parans really do believe in equality for all, and for them, an inefficient government is a small price to pay for every voice to be heard.
Mancia, the City of Chains
For centuries Mancia was a small fishing town, named after the island it was founded on. That all changed with the discovery of Ichor in the hills around the city. Almost overnight the population of Mancia exploded with prospectors, and soon Mancia was rolling in money from exporting the precious substance to all of Aria. During the World War, Mancia fell under control of the redeemers, who imported slaves from around the world to work the mines. When loyalist forces approached, the slaves rebelled and fought alongside them, and were rewarded with freedom.
Nevertheless, Mancia’s society is irrevocably stained by that slavery. Today, the city is divided between Upland, where the rich aristocracy, inheritors from the great merchants from before the Wave, and Lowland, descendants of the slaves, living in the same clay brick hovels their forefathers did. Although they are not formally slaves, most Lowland residents still have little choice but to toil for the aristocracy for little pay. Very few remain in the Ichor mines due to what happened in the Wave, but there is plenty of other work to be found. And no matter where one is in Mancia, there is always a view of the enormous bronze statues of despairing slaves, wrapped in giant chains, that dot the island, relics of the height of redeemer rule.
Protected by the waters around it, Mancia’s army is very weak, due in large part to the mistrust the aristocracy has for the everyday workers. The king of Mancia is mostly a symbolic title, as the aristocrats generally do whatever they like and make the king do whatever they like.
Venefinia, the Mage’s Dream
Venefinia is the one place in Aria where one can proclaim oneself to be a mage and not have bystanders recoil in fear. Founded by refugees from Magnan persecutors, Venefinia is a city overflowing with magic and mages. An enormous amount of good-intentioned magical experimentation takes place here, with the result being that Venefinia has enough humans that don’t look quite human anymore to the point where it’s a common sight. Although the smallest of the great Arian city-states, Venefinia is regarded with respect, if not outright fear, by all. To their credit, Venefinians have yet to show any real danger to the other city-states, preferring to exist in isolation. To the north, Magnicar Castle defends the only land-based route to the city, while natural cliffs make any invasion from the sea a laughable idea.
Despite the freedom that mages have here, or perhaps because of it, Venefinia has an enormous government presence in the Mind Police. The Magister Circle, the ruling body of Venefinia, knows better than anyone the risk of corruption that mages face daily, and as much as they would like, they cannot ignore it. There is no place anywhere in the city that is not under the watch of the Mind Police, and all citizens automatically assume that every word and action is known to them. As a result, the crime rate in Venefinia is virtually zero, as is the amount of privacy. The slightest hint of corruption in any mage, and it’s off to the Ministry of Truth for re-training in resistance, or, in the rare cases where a mage is too far gone to be saved, execution.
Fort Aer, the Infinite Harbor
Straddling the nebulous edge between the Ending World and Aria, Fort Aer is the last living remnant of the Lifemaker’s empire, an enormous city floating in the sky. Its inhabitants are the Architects, a machine race whose progenitors were the great information engines of the worldwide data network before the Fall of Heaven. Alone, they remember. Fort Aer is a memory of the empire at its height, and possesses a powerful combination of technology and magic dubbed “hextech” unlike any other that exists in the world.
The Architects themselves are gargantuan machines, mostly immobile, mere brains housed in huge structures built into the floating city that have only a few manipulators with which the control the outside world. However, Fort Aer is populated with humans—volunteers from throughout the world that give up their old lives for a chance to live in the heavens. It is these humans that take care of the day-to-day maintenance of Fort Aer and the Architects. Nevertheless, the Architects are a dying race, as a few-but-vital processes can no longer be replaced or repaired in the post-Wave world.
Fort Aer is the home base of the Armada, a vast fleet of flying, sentient ships that once was the Lifemaker’s aerial arm; hence its nickname, “The Infinite Harbor.” Unlike the Architects, however, Armada vessels are not true hextech machines. During the World War, the Armada was devastated by traitors within, resulting in the deaths of over 80% of the people crewing the ships. In order to continue fighting the war, the captains of the Armada bound their souls to their ships with magic, effectively making themselves “ghost ships.” When spirit meshed with metal, Armada vessels could control themselves, dispensing with the need for large crews. Nevertheless, the Armada suffers from the same problems of the Architects, and the vast majority of the fleet now never leaves Fort Aer. The ships that do are but shells of their former selves; still incredibly powerful, but with many of their facilities no longer functional.
Mongiru Barro, the Gate of Oblivion
Mongiru Barro had originally been an Ichor mine, carved into the underground stone as workers labored day and night in the enormous caverns that extended downwards for miles. They knew the truth about the mines, but thought nothing of it.
Those caves were the veins in a gargantuan corpse. The miners knew the Nether God was dead, but they foolishly thought it was harmless. But a god is a force, something that changes reality with the mere fact of its existence, the fact that it every existed. The dreams of the Dead God invaded their minds, and consumed them…
Now Mongiru Barro is empty, devoid of all life. The gate into the underground city was sealed by a magic-induced landslide. Outside the gate, the Fort Magus was built to prevent anyone from entering the city again. Yet the Dead God’s power had not been contained, and Magus itself was corrupted, becoming animate. The upper half of the tower took on the form of the upper body of a man as magic infused the stone, and Magus, the Tower of Rage now stands as a testimony to the danger of a Dead God. Ironically, Magus now defends Mongiru Barro better than any simple fortress could have, hurling fire and lightning at anything that moves for miles around it. Nevertheless, it is the eternal fear of everyone in the world that another entrance into Mongiru Barro might exist, and that fools might enter and begin a new Wave.
Lamentur Vail, the Wailing Capital
Once known as the White City, Lamentur Vail was the capital of the Lifemaker’s empire, home to his palace and the center of the entire world. Suspended in the heart of the Ending World—that vast, empty void with neither floor nor ceiling that formed from the battle between the Lifemaker and the last Nether God, formerly a place of endless sun and now a realm of eternal darkness and dotted with enormous islands that float motionless in the void—the White City was the pinnacle of human civilization. Now it is the Wailing Capital, and the Lifemaker’s palace is now the Necropolis, and the city is a place where the dead walk, unable to rot or rest. Their screams permeate the air, leading the few who have been brought here by the Armada (usually to capture the numerous Ghost-type Pokemon that live here) to give it its name, the Wailing Capital.
Deep within the Necropolis, one voice screams louder than all others.
“What sin have we committed for this?
In this nightmare that can never end…”
05-31-2011, 02:33 AM
So, like, unless someone is really *puts fingers close together* THIS close to finishing their application, I'm gonna say I win by default. Sign-Up thread will go up on June 5th, as planned.
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