Hey Everyone,

Im here trying to stir up interest for all of you RP'ers to take a little stroll over to portalstones.com and check out the new world we are currently creating.  It will be a magic/tech hybrid and rp can probably begin before the end of December.  So if you are interested here is a link to our new world forum.  http://www.portalstones.com/viewforum.php?f=29

Arutha watched from the shelter of a large rock, almost a boulder even, as the two Asha’man threw the One Power at each other.  He had not witnessed much in the way of the power but it was certainly quite the spectacle.  Huge mounds of earth heaved under their feet and spikes of rock and fire launched at each other like enormous arrows.  He recalled watching in horror as the one man had been sliced to ribbons by the other man’s use of the power.  The victor had turned his attention to the other man who had been left unnoticed during the first fight. 

How had this happened, Arutha thought to himself, this was supposed to be a training exercise.  Rurark said this was going to be a training exercise.  Now there’s a dead guy and two other guys trying to kill each other with the power!  Light what did I do to deserve this?  Rurark had sent him out to be the forward scout when they had left the Citadel that morning.  It was an honor to be granted the position of forward scout, even if this was simply a training evolution.  It showed that his commander trusted him to collect information and give an accurate report of what he had seen, all without being noticed by the enemy.  Arutha took pride in his ability to get dangerously close to an enemy target without revealing himself.  I guess I was a better hunter than I thought, he thought to himself.  But it won’t do me any good if I get myself killed by two bloody Asha’man.  Light Rurark this was supposed to be a training evolution. 

The men were still at it.  The one with the crazy eyes, the one that had successfully shredded the other power wielder, seemed to have the advantage.  He had the young man on the defensive and it looked like this would end soon.  He still wanted nothing more than to get out of the area before crazy eyes killed the second man and discovered he was being watched by a lowly scout with nothing but a long bow and a slew of daggers hidden about his person. 

Arutha took one last furtive glance at the two men and turned, rushing headlong down the hill, bounding over rocks and fallen logs to reach Rurark and the rest of group before they reached the hill where the men were attempting to annihilate each other.  After about five minutes of running and jumping he caught site of Rurark leading the column of trainees and waved his red armband in the air so they would recognize him.  He skidded to a halt in from of Rurark, popped to attention and saluted with a fist over his heart.  “Forward Scout Arutha al’Cartair reporting Sir”

“Make your report,” Rurark said briefly

“Sir the one Asha’man is dead, sliced to ribbons by his comrade.  And the other two are attempting to kill each other on the other side of the near hill to the north.  Blood and bloody ashes sir, what the light is going on? I thought this was supposed to be a training evolution!”

Hey all.  Tryin to get back in the groove.  A few big projects at work and at portalstones kept me from writing here. Would be cool if I could get back here. Waves to Christine, Tig, and Blade

Hey uhhh, not to be a nag but can I get an OP score please? I am just so eager to rp with my new character!

  Arutha followed Rurak and his new aquaintance Healther out of the recruiting office as she led them to the quartermaster's shop. Walking through the crowded streets Arutha was amazed at how much the Band's camp resembled a small city.  There were shops of every sort necessary for an army and some that were not so neccessary. The streets were crowded with soldiers rushing around conducting their daily responsibilities or some that were just enjoying some off time.  I might fit in here after all, Arutha thought to himself.  He really was happy to away fromlife on the streets and was very much looking forward to sleeping in an actual bed that night. 

  Arutha's happiness quickly turned to awkwardness as he was fitted for uniforms at the quartermaster's.  The uniform was itchy but bearable.  Rurak told him that the itchiness would go away after a few washes.  After they had been issued uniforms, Arutha private uniforms and Rurak fancy Sergeant uniforms with his rank insignia nice and shiny displayed for all to see, Heather led them to the mess hall.  Arutha was just as happy at the thought of a hot meal as he was the bed.  He could tell that most of the soldiers were none too impressed with the quality of the food served but to Arutha's noisy stomach it was as good as the Bel Tine feast his mother and sisters used to prepare every year.  The thought of his family sitting down to the feast brought tears to his eyes.  Rurak looked back at him questioningly but Arutha brushed it off placing the blame for his watery eyes on the smoky mess hall.

  After they had had their fill Rurak led him outside.  "Well would you like to see your barracks?" he said to Arutha, "They aren't the best, but i assure you it will be a favorable improvement on your previous living arragements."

  Arutha enjoyed the lesson on bow care from Rurak.  Sure his father had taught him all the same things and being raised on the farm all the children were taught to use a longbow, but having Rurak go over it all again in this setting made Arutha feel accepted.  He was not the only recruit learning from his friend and he took that as another sign of belonging. 

  When Rurak's lecture was through he had instructed them to choose a bow that suited them and take a few shots downrange.  Arutha went over to the rack and selected a nice longbow for himself.  It was not quite as large as Rurak's but it definitely had some range to it.  Arutha tested the strength of the bow against his own, drawing the string back to his ear.  He was able to hold it to the count of six before his hand began to quiver slightly.  He eased the tension off the string and let it come to rest at his wrist before letting go.  Arutha picked an arrow out of the quiver he had picked from the rack and examined it. No cracks, nice fletchings he thought, Not warped, should fly well. Arutha, satisfied with his selection, notched the arrow onto the bowstring and walked up to the line.  He selected a target that could be no more than fifty yards out, raised his bow, drew back and sighted in on his target.  Taking deep breaths to settle himself in Arutha took one last breath, held it, and let the arrow fly.  He maintained his stance evn after he had let go of the arrow, never letting his aze move away from the target.  His aim was true and the arrow hit the target with a loud thunk.  The arrow had hit thee target favorably well, just a two inches from the outside of the red ring that marked the center.  Truly satisfied with his shot Arutha stepped back from the line and turned to his classmates, "Well? Whose next?" 

Arutha woke early that morning with a groan and got out of bed to stretch his aching shoulders.  He knew he should not have stayed up so long with those three girls.  It was for a good cause though.  Teaching was such a rewarding practice.  His shoulder was sore. He made so many throws.  He had shown them the effects on performance that the flame and void had on a person.  It was easy to tell the difference in his results between his attempts while in the void and out of it.  Perhaps the void would help him with his bow training with Rurak this morning. He had never been a good archer.  He was halfway decent on his best day.  But he knew that he would need some long range capabilities if he was to be an effective scout.  So he resigned himself to dressing, throwing his tunic over his head and buckling his cloak on his shoulders.  It was chilly that morning and though bow practice would certainly warm his muscles but for now he wanted the warmth of his cloak.  He stepped into his boots and made his way out of the barracks and down the dirt road to the range. 

The morning was pretty busy with soldiers rushing around attending to their duties.  The (leader of the scouts) had told him the day he had signed up with the Band that the scouts would take him on but only after he was proficient at using a bow.  So he had gone straight to his friend and asked him to help him learn.  He had seen Rurak in action while on their journey to The Citadel.  He had taken out a deer from 300 yards.  It was very impressive and Arutha hoped to learn a lot from his new companion.

When he reached the range he could see Rurak returning from a target with a fist full of arrows and his bow across his back.  He watched the archer place his bow down and straighten to watch the traffic in the still early morning.  When he turned Arutha cheerily said, "Good morning Sergeant Rurak! Scout Recruit Arutha al'Cartair reporting to training as ordered sir!" Arutha was excited to begin his training.

Arutha was comforted by the warm fire and companionship.  It was getting a little late and no one was saying much, but the semi closeness of sharing the fire made him feel somewhat at home in this new place.  He had not been with the band for even a whole week yet but already he was starting to cheer up.  This is a long way from a petty theif's life in Caemlyn, he thought to himself. 

"Well its getting late, I'm turnin in. Got a long day ahead of me tomorrow," Rurak said, "As do you Arutha.  Bow trainin tomorrow early, dont stay out too late, you will need your rest."  Arutha watched Rurak walk a little ways back to the barraks.  He had grown to like the man.  THough he was the same age as Arutha himself, he was beginning to view the more experienced soldier as sort of an older brother, or a mentor. He had taken him under his wing and brought him to the band.  He had shown him that he did still have a chance to turn his life around.  The other men turned to leave as well, mumbling about the work that lay ahead of them the next morning.  Arutha chose to stay a little while longer.  He truly did enjoy the warmth of the fire.  The alone time also gave him some quality time to reflect on his current situation.

Arutha turned his back to the fire and saw three young women approaching the fire.  A little on edge at the site, not having much experience in dealings with women, Arutha still welcomed the site of the approaching soldiers as a welcome ocurrence.  At least he might not have to be the one to douse and clean up after the fire.  He stood watching them, thinking of a nice greeting for when they entered the circle of the fire's light.

Ok, trollocs gone, but as far as dagger skills, my character only has one weapon proficiency, and he has been hunting all his life. He was also taught the flame and the void by his father as a hunting technique.  A person using a tool for ten years should be expected to be proficient with that tool should he not? I know this is an rp but what about artistic license?

Arutha al'Cartair

   Hailing from a small village in Andor is a young man, new to the world outside the confines of modest home.  Far from a tall man yet not to be considered short, he was one with a knack for hunting and thoroughly enjoyed his life as a woodsman.  His dirty blonde hair fell mere inches from his shoulders and the gleam in his eye, to the keen observer, was a sign for his joy of the relaxed and carefree lifestyle he chose to lead.

   Though he was the epitome of a free spirit he never shirked his duties as his family's provider.  His father was getting on in years and his siblings were far too busy with their daily chores to be on the hunt.  And so it fell upon Arutha's shoulders to provide meat for the family's nourishment.  Traps were left along the Manatherendrelle for small game.  Arutha checked and reset the traps every morning and returned home with the nights catch.  Never failing to bring home less than two rabbits, Arutha would bring home three on average and four on an extremely good night.

   Though the traps were sufficient to feed the family Arutha loved the hunt.  He lived to stalk the deer that lived in the forest on the outskirts of the village, especially on days like this one, in the early spring with the sun barely peeking over the treetops.  Never very proficient with a bow, Arutha's father had taught him the techniques of daggers at a young age.  He crept along the carpet of pine needles now, stalking a young buck, new to its maturity.  The beast was quite large but was still young, brazen enough to be grazing on the very edge of the forest closest to the town center.

Arutha had spotted the breakfasting animal on his way back from the river. He left his four rabbits; it had been an excellent evening, tied by the ankles in a bundle in the tall grass and began circling downwind of the buck.  The wind coming from the west, Arutha circled around near the edge of town and crept slowly across the field to the edge of the forest.  Using the tree line to his advantage he kept the wind to his right as he crept toward the deer.  The trees were big enough to cause the wind to swirl around him and dismiss his scent before the deer could discover he was there.

Twenty yards away from the animal Arutha heard a harsh snap. Cursing himself silently he quickly dropped to one knee, hiding as best as he could in the brush of the forest floor.  The deer, satisfied that he had indeed been spooked by nothing of dire consequence, resumed his meal paying no heed to Arutha.  Reaching for the dagger in his boot Arutha measured the strength of the wind against his face and carefully gauging his through and loosing his dagger, all in a mere blink.  Before the dagger reached its target Arutha was in motion, on his feet sprinting toward his target.  Arutha grimaced at his poor judgement as he watched the flying dagger glance off of the deers antlers.  He had not judged the wind correctly and it was way to far a throw score anything except a lucky hit.  But luck was with Arutha that day, if in a different form. The deer, confused at his unseen attacker turned to watch with the deadly daer sail away into the brush.  Curious, the animal went over to the bush to investigate what had just smacked it in the face.  Thus the deer did not even notice as Arutha rushed in a headlong sprint toward him.  The deer lowered its head to sniff at the bush and, findin nothing out of the ordinary about this particular bush, turned to see Arutha barrelling across the field towards it. The instant before the buck raised its horns in a thrusting charge Arutha dove into a headlong roll, coming to his knees and slashing the deer's throat from ear to ear.  Arutha rose from his crouch as the deer collapsed, satisfied as he watched the beast's final throes of life that his family would eat heartily for a good long while.

That was life for Arutha, until one day near the end of a long summer.  On his way back from a successful hunt, with three rabbits tied to his belt and a small doe dragging behind him he reached the edge of the tree line.  Arutha fell to his knees at the sight of his village in flames.  He ran to his family's home to find the wreckage left behind by the culprits.  The door was smashed to bits and every window had been shattered. His father was cleaved nearly in half from his head to his midsection and his mother lay not far away, decapitated.  His siblings were no where to be found.  Arutha rushed out into the town square to find dead villagers and others he did not recognize. Bandits, he thought. Bandits commited this heinous crime.  Arutha could not cope with the hideous gut wrenching sight.  He collapsed to his knees and finally felt himself falling.  He was unconscious before he hit the dirt.

When he awoke, Arutha groggily tried to clear his thoughts.  Still sleep blind he tried to remember if his thoughts of the bloody massacre of his village were a dream or had actually transpired.  As the visions from the night before rushed back to him he leaned over on his side and emptied his stomach.  He rose to his feet slowly and trudged over to his home.  He had no idea what he should do but his body went through the motions of packing a sack full of any provisions he could find.  He checked his set of knives, in his boots, sleeves, across his chest, on his thighs, and one hanging from his neck down the back of his tunic and set out down the road toward out of town.  There was nothing for him here.  No use in burying the bodies.  He had to get away before the bandits came back to collect the rest of the possibly valuable items in the village.  Arutha had no idea what he was going to do.  There was no way for him to keep up the farm alone.  He did not want to chance living alone in the forest with winter soon to be approaching.  Without even realizing it he found himself on the road to Camelyn. Surely he could find some sort of life for himself in the capital city.

And so Arutha followed the road to the big city.  Leaving behind hopes and dreams.  Leaving his family, his home, all that he had ever known.

I know that everyone here loves Quibby, and granted he is a great guy and fun to talk to.  But at the same time, if this div is going to survive and bloom we need a div leader that has the time to devote to planning and div leader activities as well  as taking an active role rp'ing in major and minor threads.  This needs to happen.  I move that we nominate a band member for a new div leader that has more time to support our div and take an active role in its growth.

How many people want to see the world of WOT end when the last book comes out? Hw many people would love to read some more of WOT land? Just a suggestion I'm thwoin out there. I have an idea. I have a dream, ti run an RP on this board of epic proportions. One thread. tied into countless other threads. All threads leading to an ultimate goal/conclusion. One grand ultimate adventure.  When it is finished I, and whoever wants to have a hand in it, will compile the threads into a complete story. One that can be published, expanded upon, and be turned into a series. Have it take place in the Age of Legends, or Post Rand Land, Either way, I would love it to be epic. I want the fans to continue to enjoy WOT world for years to come. I personally dont want it to end. It can be works written by the fans, for the fans. It could become something great.

I know how hard pasts can be.  I wonder how much he really knows about pasts. Arutha thought to himself.  Sitting in the warmth of the campfire it was hard to hold back and he almost poured his heart out to Rurak.  he was the frist peron in two years to show him any sort of compassion.  But at the same time Arutha was still uneasy about his past.  The memories, still emblazoned in his mind as though the events had taken place the previous night, were still so harsh and hard for him to contemplate.  The mere thought of his family brought water to his eyes and he put his head down in thought, more an excuse to hide his tears and shame than anything else. I should have done something. I should have been there! Arutha caught himself starting down a dangerous path of misplaced self blame and wrestled back control over his emotions.  Still, how far could he trust this man with his history.  True he had taken Arutha out of the city and provided him a ray of hope, however slim it might seem, of changing his life.  But his past seemed awful suspicious to him.  Lone survivor of a brutal massacre?  Sounded awful like the story of a Darkfriend to him.

   Arutha lifted his head and his gaze settled upon Rurak.  He figured he could tell him some of it and keep as unincriminating as possible.  When Arutha spoke his voice was strained, he could barely get the words out, "Two years this past summer, my village was attacked and burned to the ground by a gang of bandits.  They murdered all of the men and women.  The children were no where to be found.  The only survivors were those out on the hunt."   Arutha paused, taking a deep breathe to calm his shaking hands and quivering chin.  Then his fists balled up and his eyes lit up in rage, as if he was visualizing exacting vengance in his mind.  When he continues his voice was clear, level and calm.  "The only survivors were those out on the hunt.  When they returned to the village they found the massacre completed and the bandits were no where to be seen.  A few of them had been taken out of the conflict by the farmers but they were no match for a large group of the rogues fallen from the light. The hunters tracked down the group and stalked them, keeping always silent and out of sight.  Then one night the hunters slew them all, one by one.  Turns out the group was only five strong.  The hunters killed three in their sleep, the other two choosing to awaken as the last of the three breathed its last breath.  They dispatched the other two quicky." 

   The fire was gone from Arutha's eyes now as he continued his story, his voice much softer, sadder. " I travelled to Camelyn looking for some sort of life, any life, to help me forget what I had seen.  I was full of grief, shunned by all members of the community.  I foragaged and begged for survival but it was not enough to keep me.  The survival instinct eventually won out and I turned to theivery.  I became the dregs of society. I cut purses and stole food from the market.  I made my home in an alley with a few balnkets for warmth." Arutha's eyes closed in shame of the last two years of his life, "And then I met you Rurak."

  Arutha couldn't find the words to say to this man.  Thrown completely off balance by the actions of this strange man, this Rurak.  Was he serious about changing his ways? Was there really anything he could do to dig himself out his miserable existence? Well, I might as well. There is nothing for me here. I have nothing to lose. "Alright Rurak," Arutha said finally, "I will travel with you to this Band of the Red Hand.  I'm not promising anything though. Don't expect me to just sign my life away into the service of a man I have never seen, spoken to, or even heard about."  Obviously taking this as a good sign Rurak started out of the alley.  Arutha folled, eager to be on his way to a new life. 

  They stayed the night at the tavern in a small room planning to rise early the next morning.  Arutha barely slept at all that night, not being sure how far he could trust this Rurak.  Instead, Arutha spent the night contemplating the events of that evening.  Was it truly possible to change so completely?  Would his misdeads not keep him out of the Creator's good graces?  Or was it possible to erase such misdeads by a change or character?  All these thoughts raced through Arutha's head and it morning soon arrived, without Arutha finding one moment of sleep. 

  Arutha's excitement, whatever his misgivings about the journey, provided him with more than enough exuberance to keep up with the quick paced Rurak.  Something about the way this man handled business struck Arutha as quite odd.  He always handled himself with the utmost proffesionalism and was always more than polite to everyone he came in contact with.  When the two companions went to pick up some provisions for their journey Rurak gave the order to the shopkeep clearly and precise down to the last detail.  It was almost as if this man was an experienced traveller or even a battle hardened soldier, something that Arutha had never experienced. 

  As the two men walked at a steady even pace through the gates of New City, Aruthat wondered to himself.  What kind of man is this that I find myself traveling with.Arutha recalled the scuffle and ensuing conversation in the alley the night before.  Rurak had mentioned understanding Arutha's feelings about his past.  He had gone as far as to mention that he himself had some regrets.  What secrets is this man hiding?  What about this man's past could be so horrible that it might not pale in comparison to my own? Arutha lost himself in his musings as the companions lost themselves in the journey on the road away from Camelyn.  The path towards a new life.

ok check it out.  I just started rp'ing here again.  My bio has not been approved but quibby i don't think you will mind.  I had blades approval to rp with him in our debut thread together.  So, Blade and I want to bring the life back here. We don't like the fact that there is very little to no activity on the rp side here.  Lets kick things up a notch.  Blade and I will make itto the citadel tonight in our thread. The thread will remain open. It won't close, ever, or for a really long time lol.  We want to have an epic adventure. We want everyone involved. We want all of DM to know what org is truly the best. Let us stand UNITED! Join us on our quest to greatness.  Plus, it should be really fun, why not?

    Arutha lay on his back, stunned, wondering at the prowes of the man that held his knife to his throat.  Stupid, stupid, stupid! Arutha berated himself, never should have toosed that knife.  Arutha stared up as his assailant, the title only a reference to their current position since it had been Arutha who had initiated the conflict in the first place. 

    Blood and bloody ashes. Well, i guess this is the end of the line, he thought. "Well get it over with already huh?  I don't have time to waste watin for you to slit my throat," Arutha said, trying to goad the man into some sort of error, hoping beyond hope that there was still some way out of this.  For a second after the words left his mouth he noticed a strange look in the man's eyes.  It was a look of pity but seemed to tell so much more about this strange man he had unfortunately underestimated.  It was as if the man saw something in Arutha, something of himself maybe?  Arutha could not make heads or tails of it and was about to goad the man some more when he heard him say something completely uncharacteristic of a man who had just been taken advantage of.  "it doesn't have to be this way," he said, "Why are you leading your life this way? You could be serving a higher purpose, serving the light.  Why settle for a life as base as petty theivery when there is the potential for so much more?"

    The look of pure pain and pity in the mans eyes shook Arutha to the core.  He didn't quite understand what was going on but was beginning to feel like he might have a chance at life yet.  He was shocked even more so when the stranger loosed his grip on him and rose from the ground, stepping back to stand a few short feet from Arutha.  The stranger held his hand out to help him up.  Arutha took hold of the man's hand and in the fimr grip of a stranger was lifted to his feet.  Still bewildered at this strange turn of events Arutha slowly walked over to the corner of the alley and retreived the man's satchle.  "I do beleive this belongs to you.  I apologize for taking it. It was not a very decent thing to to," Arutha said, handing the sack back to the stranger. 

    "My name is Rurark," sad the man, "I always find myself at a loss for a reason why so many young men, with so much untapped potential, lead a life such as you.  Why do you live this way..."  "Arutha, my name is Arutha," Arutha responded, "and this is not the way I originally set out to live my life.  I have always aspired to something more but have just never been able to find it.  This city has forsaken me.  I got so cauhgt up in just surviving that I never had much of a chance to contemplate doing anything else."  Arutha cast his eyes at the ground, ashamed at the way his path had taken, wishing he could look Rurak in the eye and tell him was was someone he could be proud to know.  But he was just a petty theif.  Hopefully Rurak would just let him be and continue on his way.

    Extremely satisfied with his performance, Arutha walked down the street towards his dark alley he had made his home.  It was a tight alley that he deemed well defendable and there was a gap in the supposed dead end that would allow him to escape if the need presented itself.  He had yet to examine the contents of the pack he had taken with him from the tavern.  The weight alone led him to believe he had scored himself a decent haul. That man had no idea what he was getting into,Arutha thought to himself.  Sitting there all alone, drawn into himself with not a care to the character of the people he was sharing his drink with!

    Arutha laughed to himself, full of mirth, as he recalled his actions in the tavern. He had watched the man, his head bent over his mug as if he were contemplating the meaning of the Wheel.  Little did he know he wouldn't be enjoying many more brews in the near future.  The pack exuded a distinct and consistent jingling sound that could only mean the sound of coin clinking together as they jostled in some compartment of the pack. 

    Arutha, satisfied that he had distanced himself from the strange man stopped under one of the street lamps for a short breather.  He wanted to examine the contents of his catch.  Looking back the way he came his eyes looked onto the gaze of the stranger whose sack he held in his hands.  He must have followed me out of the bar,he thought nervously.  Blood and bloody ashes am I in for it now. He knew he would have to somehow lose himself from the stalker.  As soon as the thought entered his mind he knew he would be hard pressed to do so. With the suns light gone till morning the crowds in the streets were vastly diminished. There was no way he could loose this man in the crowd. His only hope was to loose him down a dark alley.

    Arutha lost himself behind a shield of a group of people out for a post supper stroll and darted down his very own alley.  He thought himself lucky to be so close to home.  He would escape through the gap in the back wall before the stranger could catch up with him and then he would be scott free.  Arutha picked his way hurriedly through the debris scattered across the alley floor and quickly reached the back wall of the alley.  Arutha bent down to squeeze through the gap.  In a flash he was on his feet. He tossed the sack to the ground in a corner and with a flick of the wrist two of his multitude of knives were in his hands.  Arutha had made a dismal miscalculation.  This was not his alley. There was no gap to escape through in the back wall.  He was trapped.  He turned toward the alley's entrance and waited, knowing full well that any moment he would face his victim.  His only thoughts were prayers to the creator that he would not this night indeed become the victim himself.

Camelyn.  Arutha thought his life would find purpose in the capital city.  How wrong he was.  He found he was not accepted in the society.  Being an Andoran himself he could not understand the way people hadtreated him.  Quickly running out of money and not being able to find work in the city, Arutha was at a loss and looking for any way to survive.  The people thought him little more than a beggar. A farmboy with no skills?  Of course no one would give him work. 

Arutha quickly fell into a life of theivery.  For two long hard years Arutha lived as a cutpurse. Always was he on the lookout for an unsuspecting, unwary victim.  Ever was he on the run from the city guards who were constantly suspicious of a beggar that looked a just a little bit too healthy and well fed in their eyes.

Arutha fought a constant battle with himself over the way he was going about his life.  Still young at the age of only 22 he knew that he should be doing something productive with his time in the living plane of existence.  But he could find no other way.  He felt trapped. He felt like a forager, like the most base scavenger, the dregs of society.  He could remember the days when he would chase and track bandits for days to aid a merchant traveling through his village recover his goods.  Where then had his morals gone?  Where was the code of ethics his mother and father had instilled in him.  They were still there, in the depths of his heart, only they were shadowed by the most base instinct of man, survival.

And so Arutha continued his life of thievery and wickedness.  It was late one night toward the end of autumn when his life would change.  While casualy strolling down a narrow street through the marketplace he spotted a lone figure with a stooped gait trudging through the street.  The man, or woman for that matter, had their head hung low and their shoulders hunched, their face hidden by the cowl of their cloak.  He watched as the figure entered a tavern on the corne of the busy street.  Arutha hadn't had the best of luck lately and figured that this one would be a perfect target.  He sensed a withdrawn demeanor about this person that just might lend him a hand in taking advantage of this stranger. 

Arutha, maintaing his slow strolling gait so as not to arouse the his suspicion, followed the man into the tavern. The man had taken a seat at the bar and was nursing a drink.  Arutha took a seat in the corner of the room where his gaze on the stranger would go unnoticed to the rest of the patrons.  He ordered a mug of warm ale and watched. He studied the man and waited.  Waited for the stranger to leave the pub. Wiated to introduce him to his unendind desire and need to survive in the cruel and unforgiving world he had found himself trapped in.

I agree. Lets breathe new life into this place

Hey, I will rp with you.  I am returning as well, but with a new character.  I have a few ideas and have been trying to reach you myself.  So whaddya say?

Carry on my Wayward Son - Kansas

Soo I used to RP here a few years ago.  I wrote a few entries but then RL things took me away from it.  I want to get back in but I have returned to a new system that is kinda confusing.  I am confused by the Raw Recruit business. Is that for the ooc boards? Or for RP? How do I get started again.  Who do I send my character bio to? Where are all the RP threads.  I used to be able to read stories of other member's RP and it was very nice. Can't find them. Someone in the Band must have a kind heart under their rough soilder exterior.  Help me out?  Thanks.  And hey, I know, I sound like a dumb newb, but I am so lost it isnt even funny. Thanks everyone.  I will bring an awesome character(s) to the adventure.  No, really, I will. i promise. I'm not lying.  Oh, well... ok, um, you just wait and see!

Thanks everyone,

Arutha