While the war between the Varden and the Empire escalates into full-scale turmoil, fleets of small ships, ancient beyond measure, are discovered. Three ships were seen at dawn entering the port city of Teirm. Empire magicians and scholars found them completely deserted, with no sign of any crew or other habitation. Reports stated that they had appeared to had been piloted using a device of ancient magic unknown to any magician or sorcerer in the Empire. Meanwhile, identical ships entered Surda. The Varden quickly came to the same conclusion as the Empire, finding that the ships had been piloted by the same ancient magic.
The only thing either side could decipher was a set of maps found on the ship. One thing that all of the scholars, Empire or Varden, could agree on was they led to the ancient homeland of the elves, far to the west.
The Varden, desperate to find any trace of the elves' ancient and powerful civilization, as well as hope of locating any surviving dragons, immediately started work on a fleet of ships. These ships would carry brave volunteers to explore the lost land of the elves, and to bring back what aid they could find before all hope was lost.
The Empire, under the order of Galbatorix, also built a powerful fleet. Unlike the Varden, their ships were prepared for war and conquest. Soldiers, mercenaries, scholars, sorcerers, magicians, even Shades and Riders, were gathered. The might of the Empire was being gathered to wage war on the new continent, and to harness whatever they could find to finally crush the Varden once and for all.
Strangely enough, similar boats were spotted in random areas near the sea and large areas, including Narda, the Hardic Desert, and several other locations. These ships were empty, and any passenger who dared set foot in them were seen dragged off by the current towards an unknown location (the continent to the west).
Now, as the two sides race against each other to reach the lost land, what will they find? And who will be the victor in the new war that is sure to come, transplanted far from home, but losing none of the animosity?
Hey everybody! « Result #1 on Dec 12, 2009, 4:28pm »
Hey everyone, names Anthony. I'm a huge fan of the Inheritance series and readthem since they came out. I'm an okay writer but i only recently started rps. I'm also a huge fan of mma and paintball. So what's up?
Riders of Lore | 20 Years Later « Result #2 on Nov 25, 2009, 11:23am »
Twenty years have passed since the end of the great plague, and the Order of Riders is back on its feet again. Roughly five years ago, they finally brought down their enemies, the Wing of Moonlight, a group of riders who broke away from the Order and began to terrorize the lands they once helped to protect. With them gone for good, the Order believed things would return to normal.
But they were wrong. The people of Ethaia, Myriata, and Tialya were furious with their leaders for failing to defend them from the Wing, and, in an attempt to calm the people, claimed that victory over the wing was their doing, that the Order had merely lied to seem like heroes. The people, already suspicious of riders since the Wing's attacks, turned on the Order. Being a rider was swiftly outlawed, and the kingdoms began to send out more and more Slayers to try and exterminate them. Despite this, the Order continues to do what they have done for years-they protect and help the people of the lands, whether they are liked or not.
But the countries' rulers have seen the potential of the Riders. Each kingdom has been making bargains with the Order. If they join them, fight for them, they will protect them from the slayers of the other kingdoms. Each time, the Order has refused. But as the threat of slayers becomes more and more present, will the Order remain independent? Or will they join one of the kingdoms to protect themselves?
The Commission « Result #5 on Oct 21, 2009, 12:47pm »
Marten sat on his horse. His head bobbed back and forth with the motions of the horse. " Three days....Three days to get ready. A full battalion...what am I going to do?" Soon he would be at Gilead and then he would have to make further preparations. But now...now he could think. The birds sang in the air around him and a quiet calm seemed to have descended over the landed he was traversing. Galbatorix had given him a mission. Recently, there had been several raids near Gilead. These were apparently the work of Varden bandits. His mission was to gather a small force of around three hundred men. And destroy these highwaymen. He already had fifty of his own vassals. Ten were mounted knights. The rest were all mounted swordsmen, spearmen, and archers.
What bothered him was the fact that they had little information on these bandits. They did not know who lead them, or even what their numbers were. ' But the king says to do it. So off I go.' He checked his horse and surveyed his soldiers as they rode down the beaten rode. A small dusty line compared with the few he had seen. The long, black cloak he wore fluttered in the wind. Underneath it was the tunic worn by the soldiers of Galbatorix. A red shirt, with a golden flame sewn upon it. Beneath that he wore a light coat of chainmail. And a white linen shirt with padding beneath it all. His one handed sword clanged against his side as he turned and began to ride forward.
Now Gilead loomed ahead of them. And in two hours they had reached it. They had taken more or less a week to get there. And now Marten would have to inspect the three hundred soldiers before he was able to rest. Once inside the city he told his Captain to take the men and find some suitable place to quarter. Faye himself took two of his knights and went down to inspect his men, who were now gathering in the drill square of the barracks. A triple line of one hundred each stood before him. Their helms glimmered in the waning sun and their array was showered with the red blood of the sun. Marten surveyed them with a half-hopeful curiosity. What sort of men had Galbatorix given him for this test? For a test it was. And he was sure of that.
The men stood ready. All were around the age of twenty and twenty-five. Save the officers. Who were aged about thirty. All in all a healthy group. But they lacked much combat experience. They had only been in one skirmish, but all were ready to die. Or they would be forced to die. For all had sworn that oath of fealty in the ancient language. A cloaked man stepped forward. Marten thingyed one of his thin black eyebrows.
" And who are you?"
The cloaked man raised his head to meet Marten's gaze. But Marten found only blackness beneath the hood. For the man's face was cast into shadow. For a man he was by his voice. " I am....a dabbler in several professions. I am a master of disguise. A veteran in the secrets of death...and its causes. One whom Galbatorix has put under your command.....sire."
Marten guessed. " A magician?"
" Of sorts, my lord."
' And now I am issued a sorcerer. What is next?' Marten dismissed the company to the barracks and headed to his quarters. Two days and they would be on the hunt. Two days until blood was spilled. Two days until he was tested. But that day was not now. And so he slept
Joined: Dec 2005 Gender: Female Posts: 1,335 Location: The beginning. Karma: 16
Re: Talic Azuradar « Result #6 on Oct 16, 2009, 7:23pm »
If you want to be a shade, go ahead and make a profile for one. To be a rider, you have to pass the rider quiz. So, decide which one you want your character to be, and we'll go from there.
Rider Marten « Result #9 on Oct 15, 2009, 11:08am »
Full Name: Marten Faye
Other name: Hand of Fate
Race:: Human/Rider
Side: Empire
Birthplace: Uru'baen
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Birthday: Birthday? I have to make him a birthday? I don't think Paolini even gives the months. Oh well, he was born on March 14th
Eyes: Green
Hair: Dark brown, almost black. Shaggy and unkempt. The length reaches to his neck.
Weight: 180lbs
Height: 6'1"
Magic User: yes
Preferred Weapon(s): A sword
Personality: A Stoic. solitary, suspicious, and practical. always exudes a calm, assured air, and speaks in emotionless and controlled tones. His dialogue contains relatively few exclamation marks, even when he is upset. He will remain cool and logical even in the face of the most dangerous or hopeless circumstances. As an extension of this, he remains solemn in ordinary circumstances as well. However, underneath this stoic exterior, Marten is very emotional, and conceals strong passions such as rage and ambition. His passions and desires are very strong, though he keeps them contained and under control. Though he is usually untroubled and agreeable, he quickly becomes irritable if he feels he is being mistreated, slighted, or unappreciated. He also has a short span of tolerance for immaturity or ideas of compassion that he views as illogical. Marten could be, however, very loyal. His laugh and smile are rarely seen, except for an occasional grin. The smiles and laughs he has made so far can been described as grim, mirthless, crooked, bleak, sinister, or even almost mad. He considers himself to be more important than others, often disregarding the feelings and suffering of others for his own sake. However, despite his ruthlessness, and his love of power, Marten is not sadistic or parasitic at all. He shies away from acts of excessive bloodshed and cruelty.
Appearance: Marten is of a medium build, with somewhat of a tan body. He does not possess any distinguish marks such as scars. However the first impression one may get of him is that of an arrogant man, who has been trampled down to earth when he should be more. It could be called that of a wolf. Shying away from close friendships and keeping all his secrets close to his chest.
Likes/Dislikes: Admires caution, but hates indecisiveness. Is annoyed with those who shiver to be a judge and executioner. Hates immaturity
Strengths: Loyal to those he considers friends, Calm, Logical,
Weakness: Short tolerance span, Anger, Ambition, can quickly become irritable.
Family: dead
Not-So-Brief History:
Marten was raised among the nobles in the court of Galbatorix. His father and mother were principal figures among this court. Wealthy and rich, Marten lived a life of ease. In his youth he was trained in the art of combat by personal instructors. He learned all the things an aspiring nobleman should. How to ride a horse with ease. How to fight with a sword. In short, he was rather well off. Then came a terrible day. His parents had decided to take a trip through the country with a whole caravan, when they were attacked and slaughtered by Urgals. The whole party was slain save for Marten and his mother, who escaped by hiding underneath an overturned cart. Marten was just sixteen at that time. When they returned to Uru'baen Marten's mother died of grief and he was left alone in the world.
He grew up among the gaieties of the court, but they no longer held any interest to him. Everything seemed to be shown in a new light. Marten had inherited his father's fortune and still had a life of ease and luxury, but it seemed almost hollow now. Instead he turned to ice and stone. A man of a cold countenance and an ambitious heart. When Eragon and the Varden made their attack on Uru'baen, Marten was there. However he did not fight. Having not yet sworn fealty to Galbatorix he stayed back from the fight and searched the vault of souls after all had gone. In the vault of souls he found an extremely small cavern that must have been overlooked in the assault. Marten crawled through the vault and found an emerald green dragon egg. His heart seemed to stop and his forehead grew damp. This was what he had been waiting for. The ambition in his heart came to the forefront in this moment. Marten seized the egg and sped to his castle. Once there he hid the egg away and feigned sickness for many months.
Now we have caught up to the present.
Anything extra: He rides a magical pony and has a licorice sword <.< >.> Not really His most prized weapon is his sword
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