January 19, 2005

Submit a Backstory

You may submit a background story detailing things like your characters history, personality, skills weaknesses and any other information you feel may be useful.

The staff will then let you know as to whether this has been approved and it may be possible that your attributes or skills are adjusted further based on the information provided.

Be aware that if your character differs significantly from the 'norm' it is compulsory for a background story to be submitted and approved prior to the character entering roleplay. For example, the following things would need a background submitted and approved prior to playing (some of these may also have an additional roleplay point cost or requirement):



- a noble character

- a non-human race

- a character with multiple personalities

- a well-known hero/heroine

- a character with prior experience or knowledge of the darkness/demons

- an atheist



Things that will automatically get turned down:



- characters from other worlds

- characters who do not fit into our mythos (ie, dwarf)

- "super" characters (characters who are good at everything)




You can submit the background via the form on the website or direct by email to: mina@shadowsiege.com or cernunnos@shadowsiege.com




















Your Name:
Characters Name:
Enter your character's background story:

   





Following is an example backstory which can be used as a guidelines to see what we expect:

Character: Thense
Account: Boondogle
Email: Boondogle@bob.net
Age: 25

Thense Porric was born into the quiet world of a wine-maker's family who dwelled in a great, stone house within sight of the walls of Yarsin. The vineyards did well enough, and Thense's young life could be considered comfortable: money enough for a descent -- but not extravagant -- education; two older siblings to play and fight with; trips on the wine-wagon up the great, wide road up the side of the mountain, into the riotous Yarsin market.



Thense himself had little interest in math and the sciences, or in the long, boring excursions his teachers would take him into the worlds of literature and poetry. Unless, of course, the subject was one of battles, or soldiers, or war. He loved to hear of such things, to sit and imagine himself in columns with his comrades, marching out against the exotic armies of the Tyeni Empire, or the petty kingdoms in the west, or camps of Tir bandits to the east. He would dress himself in shining mail emblazoned with the banner of Yarsin-on-the-Mountain, and return, victorious, to cheering crowds, like those in the market.



Though the romantics of his dreams faded with age, the desire to be a professional soldier did not. At sixteen, he enrolled in the Yarsin Regular Guard, took his oaths, and left the vineyards for training barracks. His parents were, of course, proud. Their worries about Yarsin's decaying relationship with the mighty Kingdom of Viroth to the north, they kept to themselves.



Thense seemed built for soldiering. For his age, he was tall and fair, agile and strong -- if perhaps a little dense. Orders were taken easily, confident that his highers knew better than he. After all, they had seen battles, had known the weight of hundreds of lives (maybe thousands) in their hands. Surely, generals knew best, and chose only the finest captains. So he did what he was told, and even enjoyed much of the harshness of his training with the sword and shield. Long marches and short nights strengthened his constitution, and he learned to cook for himself simple meals, to make simple repairs to his own uniform and equipment.



Soon enough, Under-Sergeant Porric was twenty, and patrolling the trade routes that ran between the major cities in the old but pacified Tyeni Empire, Viroth, Yarsin, and those places far to the west -- places he would hear of from traders, but never see. The first man he had ever killed, two years ago, was a bandit, a raider. Thense was surprised to find rather mixed emotions just afterwards, when the heat of combat wore off. He wasn't good at putting things like that into words, so he never really tried. He was glad to do his duty, glad to protect, and decided that that was all. A few such men had died by his sword since, and he himself had been bitten by steel a few times, though never critically.



With the Cataclysm, everything changed as one would expect; Thense heard news of Yarsin's sudden obliteration, and was rife with woe. Though worry for his family, his loved ones was suffocating, he suppressed the instinct to run home directly, instead submitting himself to the organization of the army. The order to return to Yarsin, of course, did not take long to come.

What was not destroyed was in chaos, burned and looted. Eventually, the Yarsin Regulars were disbanded, all hope of recovery lost, and each man was ordered to return to his family, to lead them through the plains north, towards Viroth, and away from the terrible Darkness. Thus, the Porric family (all of whom gracefully survived) fled their home for northern lands.



Surely, Thense thought, Viroth would need soldiers, too. They would be merciful, and forget the recent troubles with Yarsin. They would need the help.


Posted by ShadowSiege at 06:44 PM | Comments (0)

November 03, 2004

Example Background

Character: Thense
Account: Boondogle
Email: Boondogle@bob.net
Age: 25

Thense Porric was born into the quiet world of a wine-maker's family who dwelled in a great, stone house within sight of the walls of Yarsin. The vineyards did well enough, and Thense's young life could be considered comfortable: money enough for a descent -- but not extravagant -- education; two older siblings to play and fight with; trips on the wine-wagon up the great, wide road up the side of the mountain, into the riotous Yarsin market.

Thense himself had little interest in math and the sciences, or in the long, boring excursions his teachers would take him into the worlds of literature and poetry. Unless, of course, the subject was one of battles, or soldiers, or war. He loved to hear of such things, to sit and imagine himself in columns with his comrades, marching out against the exotic armies of the Tyeni Empire, or the petty kingdoms in the west, or camps of Tir bandits to the east. He would dress himself in shining mail emblazoned with the banner of Yarsin-on-the-Mountain, and return, victorious, to cheering crowds, like those in the market.

Though the romantics of his dreams faded with age, the desire to be a professional soldier did not. At sixteen, he enrolled in the Yarsin Regular Guard, took his oaths, and left the vineyards for training barracks. His parents were, of course, proud. Their worries about Yarsin's decaying relationship with the mighty Kingdom of Viroth to the north, they kept to themselves.

Thense seemed built for soldiering. For his age, he was tall and fair, agile and strong -- if perhaps a little dense. Orders were taken easily, confident that his highers knew better than he. After all, they had seen battles, had known the weight of hundreds of lives (maybe thousands) in their hands. Surely, generals knew best, and chose only the finest captains. So he did what he was told, and even enjoyed much of the harshness of his training with the sword and shield. Long marches and short nights strengthened his constitution, and he learned to cook for himself simple meals, to make simple repairs to his own uniform and equipment.

Soon enough, Under-Sergeant Porric was twenty, and patrolling the trade routes that ran between the major cities in the old but pacified Tyeni Empire, Viroth, Yarsin, and those places far to the west -- places he would hear of from traders, but never see. The first man he had ever killed, two years ago, was a bandit, a raider. Thense was surprised to find rather mixed emotions just afterwards, when the heat of combat wore off. He wasn't good at putting things like that into words, so he never really tried. He was glad to do his duty, glad to protect, and decided that that was all. A few such men had died by his sword since, and he himself had been bitten by steel a few times, though never critically.

With the Cataclysm, everything changed as one would expect; Thense heard news of Yarsin's sudden obliteration, and was rife with woe. Though worry for his family, his loved ones was suffocating, he suppressed the instinct to run home directly, instead submitting himself to the organization of the army. The order to return to Yarsin, of course, did not take long to come.

What was not destroyed was in chaos, burned and looted. Eventually, the Yarsin Regulars were disbanded, all hope of recovery lost, and each man was ordered to return to his family, to lead them through the plains north, towards Viroth, and away from the terrible Darkness. Thus, the Porric family (all of whom gracefully survived) fled their home for northern lands.

Surely, Thense thought, Viroth would need soldiers, too. They would be merciful, and forget the recent troubles with Yarsin. They would need the help.


Posted by ShadowSiege at 07:25 PM | Comments (0)

July 13, 2004

Annoymous Backstory

My beginnings, secret as they are for reasons obvious and not, I have designed to reveal to you. Why? I, myself, am unsure. Perhaps it is as simple as the desire to tell a story which has not been told for centuries, lest it leave my own memory, like an article lost in a cluttered drawer.

So let us open the drawer:

The exact year of my birth - my first birth - I cannot tell you. There is no record of it to rely on. Indeed, much the story I have pieced together from varying sources: annals and historians, village tales and bards'. I can tell you that it occurred in the dead of winter, in the last decades of the 15th century, in the hills of Shining, now called Eshek, in Uol. What brought my Idoean mother to such a distant land at that particular period of history can never be declared with any real accuracy. But I have theories, based on what I know of my father. His name was Arill of the Red Hand, a minor footnote in Circe's brief history of man, noted for a particular event which becomes the backdrop for my life.

Continue reading "Annoymous Backstory"


Posted by ShadowSiege at 09:24 PM | Comments (0)

July 09, 2004

Althea's Arrival

The Common Room of The Dragon's Head Inn
What was once the Northern half of the common room of this Inn is now the main room, the Southern part now 'outside' and littered with debris. The inner room doesn't fare too much better, though a roof and four walls still protects it from the elements. The couches and chairs still are gathered about the fireplace, though looking considerably worse for wear. Gashes and stains of blood distributed across the fabric. The first step of the stair case is missing, though it is still traversable to lead up to the floors above. Several of the tapestries still remain on the wall, hanging oft times at a lopsided angle and only by one nail. A single solitary lantern hangs from the side of an upright post providing, along with the fire, the illumination for the room.
[ Exits: south up ]
A burgundy couch covered with foot long rips and spots of dried blood.
A large, roaring fire sends sparks up the chimney in this hearth.
A man of average height sits at the bar.
A burly man with a shiny, bald head is standing here.

A rosy-cheeked lass walks down the steps and into the room, stretching as she does so and looking around.

"Barkeep; another ale." a man of average height murmurs, his tone almost flat - an echo of brooding melancholy hidden behind his words. Before a burly man with a shiny, bald head has managed to pour his order, a man of average height has already spilt some coins onto the counter, apparently uncaring whether the amount is correct or over the required sum.

"Good day, sirs" a rosy-cheeked lass says cautiously, smoothing her skirt with a nervous hand. Her tongue flicks out to lick her lips nervously. "I hope I don't disturb you?"

A man of average height doesn't turn to regard the newcomer, and it is unsure if he actually heard her words. However, he reacts to the subtle scrape of a tankard being set against the hardwood bar, reaching out to wrap a hand around its middle as a burly man with a shiny, bald head sweeps the scattering of coins from the surface and into a pouch at the front of his apron. He nods in a rosy-cheeked lass's direction.

Continue reading "Althea's Arrival"


Posted by ShadowSiege at 11:08 PM | Comments (0)

July 07, 2004

The Death of Eliss Mao

The Common Room of The Dragon's Head Inn
What was once the Northern half of the common room of this Inn is now the main room, the Southern part now 'outside' and littered with debris. The inner room doesn't fare too much better, though a roof and four walls still protects it from the elements. The couches and chairs still are gathered about the fireplace, though looking considerably worse for wear. Gashes and stains of blood distributed across the fabric. The first step of the stair case is missing, though it is still traversable to lead up to the floors above. Several of the tapestries still remain on the wall, hanging oft times at a lopsided angle and only by one nail. A single solitary lantern hangs from the side of an upright post providing, along with the fire, the illumination for the room.
[ Exits: south up ]

A couple of cloaked figures sitting at a shadowed table near the entrance to the Inn lean in close. Exchanging quiet words with each other, the taller of the pair passing a shaded glance over towards the bar area.

Crossing his arms over his chest, a tall dark-headed man begins to make his way to the bar, sitting upon an empty stool. He faces the rest of the room, eyes still peering around curiously, though he doesn't speak or acknowledge anyone else's presence.

A crimson-haired human continues to watch the bar carefully, his eyes gazing over every part of it from his vantage point in the south-western corner. His arms remain crossed for a moment or two, before one of them drops down idly to his weapon, the hand lying there idly on the pommel.

Continue reading "The Death of Eliss Mao"


Posted by ShadowSiege at 09:02 PM | Comments (0)

July 06, 2004

Shambling Hydra

The Common Room of The Dragon's Head Inn
What was once the Northern half of the common room of this Inn is now the main room, the Southern part now 'outside' and littered with debris. The inner room doesn't fare too much better, though a roof and four walls still protects it from the elements. The couches and chairs still are gathered about the fireplace, though looking considerably worse for wear. Gashes and stains of blood distributed across the fabric. The first step of the stair case is missing, though it is still traversable to lead up to the floors above. Several of the tapestries still remain on the wall, hanging oft times at a lopsided angle and only by one nail. A single solitary lantern hangs from the side of an upright post providing, along with the fire, the illumination for the room.
[ Exits: south up ]

A tall and tattooed man sits at a table close to the fire, idly drinking an ale and relaxing.

A groggy a flaxen-haired male seari descends the stairs with an unstable swaying gait, as if he'd been drinking for the past several days. He's naked from the waste up and a rough linen bandage covers his chest, two bright splotches of crimson colour creeping through.

A pale gentleman sits down upon the couch, glancing over his shoulder at the tables nearby the couch. His eyes are drawn to the source of the sound of steps on the stairs, staring at a flaxen-haired male seari for a moment, curiosity in his eyes. Finally, it gets the better of him: "Had a little trouble recently?"

A tall and tattooed man looks up the steps at the seari, he raises his mug and gives a little cheer, "Vendir! My good friend, I see you finally woke up. Ya lazy bum," he says happily.

Continue reading "Shambling Hydra"


Posted by ShadowSiege at 08:09 AM | Comments (0)

June 22, 2004

A Fight at the Dragon's Head Inn

The echoing of footsteps from the south announces the approach of a fidgety Dryth woman before an actual appearance is made. The woman's stern countanence borders on a scowl, a bit of grounded leaf rolled in a small bit of paper dangling from her slightly parted lips. Her steps lead her directly to the bar, her left arm gently scratching around a cut on the right, though a nearly identicle one appears on the left, neatly bandaged. At the sound of a muscular, young man's words, her head turns towards him as she lofts a brow, quickly looking him over. "By the looks of things, you'd gotten into a lot more trouble then I did."

A muscular, young man thinks about it for a moment, "No actually I got lucky, he hit me once, we talked for a moment and he left. I was quite lucky. But I do wish to appologise, I should have believed you from the start. I cant imagine what I would have done if I had handed you in and then found out what would have happened". He shudders silently at the thought.

Continue reading "A Fight at the Dragon's Head Inn"


Posted by ShadowSiege at 10:55 PM | Comments (0)

March 22, 2004

A Meeting at the Fountain

A wiry Tir makes his way through the square and to the fountain, his cloak tightly pulled about his body. He moves to the fountain's edge, reaching down with one hand and scooping up a handful of water. Drawing the water to his face, he drinks of it, tiny streams running down either side of his chin.

A youthful female Seari sits, kneeled upon the fountain's edge. In a position much like she had been in the day prior. She turns her head to follow the progress of a wiry Tir towards the fountain edge, long fae-like ears tilting down. "It is strange sometimes."

Continue reading "A Meeting at the Fountain"


Posted by ShadowSiege at 03:47 AM | Comments (0)

February 29, 2004

Night of Lights Part II

It takes the curvy young woman a moment to recover from the surprisingly risque performance, as much the same as many of the patrons. The ending especially causing some puzzlement. However, after a moment she begins an irregular clap and then speak. "Aye, well, thank ye miss. An- interesting show.. Now then, moving on! Is there anyone else who wishes to perform for us? The prizes are very much worth the effort, I assure you!"

A rotund halfling male blinks a few times at the last performance, then raises his hand, which brings little to no attention to him, seeing as how it is lost amongst the seated taller people. "If I may...? I believe I could tell a few jokes, perhaps..." The small creature seems suddenly rather timid.

A youthful female Seari moves quietly through the crowd, her eyes closing before she comes to a halt before a man of average height. She reaches out blindly for his shoulder, taking it in her hand for support as she draws herself up into his lap.

A curvy young woman indicates for the halfling to take the stage, "Please do, I think we could all use something .. ahem ,... a little different."


Continue reading "Night of Lights Part II"


Posted by ShadowSiege at 10:17 PM | Comments (0)

February 28, 2004

Night of Lights Part I

A Large Bar in the Duke's Bounty
This room isn't overly small, though it appears to be for the four large circular tables crammed into it. Each table is beringed by squat wooden stools for patrons to sit on, and consume drinks collegially with others. For those who prefer a slightly more private place to drink, a few stools along the long, polished surface of the bar have been provided. The best view from there is the mounted kegs of ale and mead and other such drinkables behind the bar, and the swinging door to the kitchen. The air is thick with smoke and joviality, and is kept dimly lit by a few windows that pepper the north wall of the room. There is a small door set into the western wall. A section towards the centre of the room has been cleared, and some of the tables removed to allow for a 'stage' of sorts. Two wooden pallets have been pushed together to provide a slightly elevated performing area. Stacks of hay around the outskirts of the room and an array of chairs and stools make up the seating.
[ Exits: east south west ]
Several round tables are here, each surrounded by a few chairs.
A petite, bronze-skinned woman with long mahogany hair is standing here.
A platinum-haired man with multicoloured eyes is standing here.
A curvy young, woman with glistening blonde ringlets stands here.

The soft ringing of a petite, bronze-skinned woman's tambourine comes to an abrupt halt as she all but gapes at a youthful female Seari. Quickly, she turns her head and once more resumes the light accompaniment of the lute player's song.

A youthful female Seari pauses within the arch of the doorway, her arm hooked around the arm of a man of average height, her body leaning lightly against his side. As heads begin to turn, she unwinds her arm from around his and draws herself up tall, meeting each gaze as it falls upon her. She is clothed in a long flowing white silken gown, the fabric semi transparent in nature, leaving little to the imagination with regards the curves beneath and her under-garments or lack there of as the case may be. Her long russet locks are brushed till they glisten, the curls falling down over her bare shoulders to brush over the top of her chest as her head turns. Her skin is flawless, lacking in any kind of marring, no scars visible, or any other kind of injury.

Continue reading "Night of Lights Part I"


Posted by ShadowSiege at 12:40 PM | Comments (0)