The Magical Age of Piracy OOC (OPEN)

by **Altito Asmoro** » Fri Mar 20, 2015 9:22 pm

Ah...Caribbean, the place where all sorts of pirates all roaming, with the British, French, and Spanish tried to contain them, to limited success. Magic is a thing in this Earth, which fortunately, or unfortunately (depending on the perspectives) put the pirates and the colonials at a higher and more dangerous battle than ever before. To whom you should side with? Do you will rise as the strongest pirate of the 18th century Caribbean, or will you die in attempts? Do you will try to destroy the pirates as one of the officers of the colonial navies and armies? Or do you will destroy both sides and establishing a throne of yourself?

Welcome everyone, to the Magical Age of Piracy! In here, you can make a name for yourself, a name for your country, or just destroy the world and kill everyone.

Ah, the rules, the rules:

Rules:
Typical RP etiquette: No Godmodding, No Metagaming. No in OOC arguing, I am the OP/God.
ALL characters are required to have a feasible weakness.
Fun is mandatory. Beatings will continue until morale improves!
Be logical during battles, just because you have magic doesn't mean you are invincible to bullets and swords. And water. The same applies to the non-magical.
There will be plot, but there will be a period where you could do anything realistic and logical, a sandbox period.

Application (please remove everything in square brackets)

Name:

Nom de Guerre (if any): [For example, Edward Teach is "Blackbeard"]

Age:

Gender: [Sexual preference is optional]

Appearance:

Occupation: [Pirate, privateer, naval commander, merchant, etc.]

Allegiance: [If any]

Number of ships owned: [Maximum: Tentative]

Flagship: [If applicable]

Crew / Fleet Size: [i.e. Number of men under your character's command. Maximum: Tentative]

Notable crew members: [i.e. First mate, someone with unusually high bounty, another one with magic powers, etc.]

Magical abilities (Y/N): [Optional]

Non-magical abilities:

Weaknesses: [e.g. Luffy can't swim, Davy Jones' heart can be used as leverage against him, etc]

Brief biography of character: [Try to keep it to 4 paragraphs]

Role-Playing sample:

429 (Don't Remove)

IC: IC

by **Altito Asmoro** » Fri Mar 20, 2015 9:22 pm

OP: Me
CO-OP: Bunkeranlage

British Empire:
Fransesco "The Priest" Cosciano
Samuel Bjorn " Hermóðr" Anderson

Republic of the United Netherlands:
Sven "Soul of Rijnsburg" Rynsburger
Julia "The Valkyrie of the Caribbean" Kamp

Spanish Empire:

Kingdom of France:
Maximilien de Cauhaurs, Marquis the Belle-Isle

Pirates/Others:

Edward "Blackbeard" Thatch
Michael "Mad Man" Smith
Dominic Wilkerson
William "The Admiral" Vogler
Ana "The Siren (For Merfolk only)" Anderson
Romanus "Captain Fang" Vennici
Caspiano "Red Foot" Spedas
Economics:

Nations with lots of magic don't invest in firearms because it's a waste of effort that could be better spent in refining magic. Nations with little magic invests heavily in firearms because they depend on it, due to magic not being an option.

LIST OF NATIONS WITH STRONG FIREARMS: Republic of Netherlands, Spanish Empire

by **Altito Asmoro** » Fri Mar 20, 2015 9:28 pm

by **Lavan Tiri** » Fri Mar 20, 2015 9:36 pm

Tagged so hard.

by **Moth-Gar** » Fri Mar 20, 2015 9:38 pm

Tag, but I'm new

by **Moth-Gar** » Fri Mar 20, 2015 9:55 pm

by **The Templar High Council** » Fri Mar 20, 2015 10:13 pm

Coolio, Tito. I'll have an app up tomorrow.

Rhyming and shit.

by **Bunkeranlage** » Fri Mar 20, 2015 10:51 pm

Application will be up soon.

Moth-Gar wrote:Flagship: "The Mad Bitch", a Brig with 20 cannons on each side

Crew / Fleet Size:
Crew size: 14 on the brig and 12 on the Sloop
Fleet size: 2

A brig is too small to carry 40 cannons, and even if they were to somehow jam all of them on board, it would take many more men to use those cannons. Something like 16 (i.e. 8 on each side) would be more reasonable for a ship of that size. Either that, or use, say, a frigate instead.

by **Vancon** » Fri Mar 20, 2015 11:51 pm

by **Bunkeranlage** » Sat Mar 21, 2015 12:45 am

If you'd like a UTC +0800 co-OP, I'm available.

Application (please remove everything in square brackets)

Name:
Francesco Casciano

Nom de Guerre (if any):
The Priest

Age:
59

Gender:
Male, Heterosexual

Appearance:

206cm
90kg

Occupation:
Privateer

Allegiance:
The British Empire

Number of ships owned:
3

Domitian
Lucius
HMS Guardian

Flagship:
Domitian: Frigate, 48 guns, 3 masts, 110 crew

Crew / Fleet Size:
280

Notable crew members:

Terrence Teague
AKA "The Organist"
39 years old, Second-in-Command
Captain, Lucius

Terrence has the ability to create and manipulate fire to his will. This is particularly so when it comes to wood fires, though strictly speaking, any fire is subject to his will.

He cannot use this ability when he is submerged in water, though he can still do so when he is wet.

Magical abilities (Y/N):
No

Non-magical abilities:
Casciano is a sharpshooter.

Weaknesses:
He is unable to fight in close range, as he has very severe gout in his knees. As such, he can only be of use from a distance.

Brief biography of character:
Born in London to an Italian family living there, the youngest of 4 children, Casciano grew up with an inexplicable thirst to sail on the seas. His father, Giordano, wanted him to follow in the family business, i.e. making fusilli. However, when he was 18, it became clear that he wasn't meant for the job, and after much consideration, he allowed the boy to join the merchant service.

On one particular voyage, when he was 27, Casciano was caught in a storm, and was stranded on an island with three others, one of whom was a priest. As he was already a devout Catholic, Casciano decided to learn as much from the priest as he could, to make the best of the situation. It was only 12 days later, when the others had died, that Casciano was rescued.

It turned out to be a pirate crew, however, which allowed Casciano to live only on condition of him joining the crew as a chore boy. Reluctantly accepting, Casciano soon warmed up to his new life, eventually devoting himself to a life of piracy, yet maintaining a strong sense of chivalry and a number of base morals, such as not torturing unnecessarily. This "gentlemanly" behaviour gained him the epithet "The Priest".

By the time he was 47, Casciano had amassed an enormous fleet for himself, numbering 14 ships (a large number for a pirate). His notoriety grew, and by the time he was 50, he already had a bounty of £50,000,000 on his head. Soon enough, at the age of 51, Casciano's fleet was wrecked by a Spanish fleet, which brought him back to Spain in chains, awaiting a sentence (for he had sunk many Spanish ships). However, the British government, by some under-table dealings, managed to get Casciano off of the hands of the Spaniards. Knowing that he was a master of the sea, the British awarded him pardon for his piracy, retracting and freezing his bounty and providing him with a Naval vessel; the 20 gun HMS Guardian. He was also allowed to keep the two ships that had survived the onslaught, the Domitian, his flagship, and the 28 gun Lucius, which was placed under the command of Casciano's energetic and high-spirited 2IC, the former Navy officer Terrence Teague.

He has been a privateer under the service of the Crown ever since.

Personality:
ENTJ

Casciano is a highly chivalrous and self-righteous man, and is often found preaching his moral code to his men. He places strict restrictions on what his men are allowed to do to prisoners, and will not hesitate to dish out heavy punishments for violations. Despite this, all (or at least, most) of his men know that he cares for them very much, and will go through much trouble to save them should they fall in danger. He once shot a French marine officer who attempted to kill 2IC Teague, despite the former's high status.

He also refrains from drinking, but will not hesitate to gorge himself silly at parties, much to the surprise of those more familiar with his gentlemanly behaviour.

Casciano is a boisterous man, always eager to share dirty jokes and ghost stories with his acquaintances and friends. He is a party creature, and despite his abstinence from alcohol, will not hesitate to give it to his men in extremely liberal amounts.

On several occasions, Casciano has stated that his favourite food is gnocchi with gorgonzola sauce.

Role-Playing sample:
Bunkeranlage wrote:Day I

The first day of solitude had passed already. Standing by the spring on his island, the great Ocean Magus rested on his staff, his long, white hair flowing in the headwinds of the high altitude. So far, his days had been rather lonely. After all, Alvus spent his time with himself, munching placidly on grass. His books, he piled into his castle in the middle of the island. Much of the day had been spent arranging the books in alphabetical order. From those by Aavôl the Blue all the way to those by Zyugalzar the Illusionist, every single one of the 183 books he had taken in the last four years was now stacked into his personal library. Xharûn could not help but feel a sense of satisfaction.

The irony was that, despite having written 4 books in his lifetime, Xharûn didn't have a single one of his own in that enormous library. Having memorised all of them, he didn't feel any need to do so. Also, since they were all about the manipulation of water, it would be redundant for him, the foremost authority on water magic, to keep books on the subject lying around in an alcove of limited space. If he had had a library in Cergun, the option to leave them there as a bragging right might have at least scraped the surface of his mind. Now, though, bragging was unnecessary. He wasn't one to brag, anyway.

I don't see any point in showing off. Often, most people can tell how little you really know.

Despite the task being mundane to most other people, the Ocean Magus felt a sense of... comfort... in doing something so meaningless. After all, he had just witnessed the total annihilation of everything he once knew. Meaning, if it even existed anymore, was no more than a faint shadow on the blankness of eternal vacuity. All that was left for him was to simply accept that life would be in vain from now on, and that it would be best to enjoy it while it lasted. While stacking the books, Xharûn took the opportunity to leaf through a few of them and skim their content in the hope of finding something interesting. A few caught his attention for their extraordinary content, such as Sańusvanar the Golden's account on the Great War of Teleovan 7,000 years ago. Others, he noticed because of the sheer horror that permeated their pages, like Huron the Torturer's book on torture spells. A few did not even make any sense at all, an example being Aknadin the Fallen's Millennium Spell Book, which only detailed instructions on how to create some strange golden jewellery. Of course, as Xharûn knew, it would be unwise to throw away a book just because it was gibberish. Often, what one did not understand at some point would later come back to help him when he least expected and most needed.

Having read through the books and packed them into the empty stone alcoves in the little castle at the centre of the island, Xharûn decided to go out to walk about his island. Such a huge island, and the majority of it was comprised of grassy, rolling plains and an intricate network of clear spring water. As he stepped gingerly into the cooling waters, washing himself, Xharûn reflected upon his life, both the old one, and the new, meaningless one. Whether the Creator wished to impart anything into it, to weave him back into the endless tapestry of time, he did not yet know. As Alvus trotted over, whinnying merrily, the old Magus sighed. If only he could live like the horse, unaware of the vanity of life, spending all his days galloping freely in the wind. No, even the horse did not have that freedom to live life as he wished. Life was empty now. And that emptiness was mandatory.

The dying sun quickly sank below the horizon, giving way to the darkness of night. The green dancers flittered across the sky, leaving their numinous trails of light on the black textile of the late night sky. From his bedroom on the second floor of the castle, the Magus watched the magnificent dance of the lights, orchestrated by an unseen conductor. They gave him the hope that, even in the bleak despair of the aimless existence, he could still be free and joyful. Even in his old age, that was not unobtainable...

Day II

A new day brought a new beginning and new opportunities. The little garden that Xharûn found at the back of the castle that morning was a godsend, in that he would be able to grow plants for eating, albeit just tomatoes and potatoes. Digging about the insides of the castle, Xharûn was able to find a number of sprouting potatoes and tomato seeds lying about. Wasting no time, he immediately went to the garden and planted the seeds, whispering a life water spell that sent little drizzles of fresh water sprinkling over the plants, allowing them to sprout faster. Now, food wasn't a problem anymore.

Satisfied with this new achievement, the Ocean Magus decided to take another walk around the sides of the island. The sun had barely reached its peak, sending rays of beautiful light raining upon the old wizard and everything on his island. His staff in one hand, Xharûn strode about the edges of the island, looking out into the blank horizon. He was mercifully unable to look upon the devastation that, no doubt, raged on below. The cloud canopy separated him from the horrors of the apocalypse that was ravaging Cergun from the bottom up.

Somehow, this only made him feel worse. They in the North of Cergun knew, all along, that it was going to happen. As the old Northern saying went, "Eðelnur Veþhaå Cærgúnus Heldaiðúr", literally "The Burst of the Eternal Cergunian Fires". As the millennia went by, what the Northerners knew as a fact soon became challenged by a new generation, who believed themselves to be invincible. Time passed, and the revelation soon became a prophecy, prophecy became premonition, premonition became legend. Eventually, it was regarded as naught but folklore. And he, Xharûn the Ocean Magus, had witnessed that legend swirl into a hideous reality. No amount of fanciful astrology or superstition was going to change that.

Xharûn, having taken two walks already, soon became more familiar with the island that was both his solace and his prison. It was flat, with a few knolls here and there. A spring bubbled out from a peninsula at the northernmost tip of the island, sending the clear spring water gushing down into the creeks of his island. A single scrawny sapling sprouted near the spring. It was unable to bear any fruits or anything useful at all. The thought of cutting it down had crossed the wizard's mind. As he was about to turn back and find an axe, Xharûn realised that he did not have the heart to lay a finger on it. It was another living creature, just like him. It was going through the same ordeal as him, the same problem of meaninglessness. There was no way he could kill the poor thing, even if it would be for his benefit. Walking over to the sapling, Xharûn knelt down, running his fingers lightly along the frail stalk of the young tree.

"Don't worry", he whispered gently to the sapling. "I will make sure you survive, and that you grow into the greatest of trees, no matter how long it takes." From the look of the tree, as well as the fact that it was a Nårguu Tree, which could sometimes take millennia to grow, Xharûn knew that it would probably outlive him ten thousandfold. That was of no concern, however. For as long as he lived, so would the sapling.

Standing up, the wizard looked out at the empty sky, then at the rolling hills of his island and at the idyllic castle perched on the opposite end of the island. Something sparked inside him. If he was capable of focusing on the vast emptiness of the outside life, was he not capable of focusing on the converse, on whatever good that still burned within? The thought struck him hard.

Life wasn't meaningless.

True, there was the vast emptiness of the sky, of the clouds and whatever horrors lay below. Yet, there was also the heavenly sanctuary that was his little island. There was a wealth of knowledge locked away within his fortress of gneiss and marble, and a treasury of biology right there on the hills. There was Alvus the chestnut mare, and the baby giant that sprouted unassumingly from the bubbling mouth of the creeks. Most of all, there was the serene, holy water that coursed through the veins of the island, springing forth from its core. He, Xharûn, the great Ocean Magus, had witnessed the very heart of the island's life force, beating on without fail from inside the Great Cave. It was truly a humbling experience, witnessing such a magnificent and awe inspiring display of the genesis of the island's life. And here he was, supposedly one of the wisest of the entire Order of Wizards, having the gall to call life meaningless???

Turning around, the wizard headed back to his castle, the spring returning to his step. How could he have been so blind in the past, to focus on the emptiness rather than what lay within it? There was no need for that at all. It only served to dampen the spirits and shorten the life expectancy.

Now, with that in mind, hope returned to him. His castle suddenly seemed a lot brighter as he entered, despite the torches not having been lit in the ante-rooms. Going straight through to the garden, the old wizard noticed with great delight that his water of life had, indeed worked. The first shoots of tomato plants were growing heartily from the soft soil. Soon, he would have luscious tomatoes for his meals. Whether in the form of raw slices, or soft, baked chunks, or even as a sauce, the possibilities were endless. Sprinkling more Life Water on the plants, the wizard reentered the castle, taking the last half loaf of barley bread out of his small pouch. It didn't matter if he finished it all now, since he would have juicy tomatoes the next day and, if he was lucky, warm, golden brown potatoes. Tearing off little slices of it and savouring it, Xharûn stood at the edge of the garden, looking at the setting sun. It was the second time he witnessed twilight from so many thousands of kilometres above the ground, and he was beginning to get used to it. In fact, he found it absolutely beautiful.

Not that the sun was boring back on Cergun- it was stunning regardless of the location. Yet, the sheer novelty of seeing a sunset from the top instead of the bottom was just... indescribable. Xharûn could not help but smile a big, cheek-to-cheek smile. The Almighty definitely had a way of revealing himself to him, in the most subtle way possible, with no need for in-your-face vulgarity that they humans were so used to. The fine nuance of it was simply breathtaking, especially with no other human distractions to take his eyes off of the simple beauty of a setting sun.

Soon, the Dancers began their arcane ballet again, and the Magus retreated to the bedroom of his castle after a refreshing bath in the stream directly outside his castle's wooden Yggdrasil doors. It was these streams that made him thankful for his ability to manipulate water. Otherwise, his body would be sticky and odoriferous, contributing less than nicely to the atmosphere. Now, however, he was able to freshen up before every day and every night, something he would be eternally grateful for.

Xharûn's bedroom consisted of a mattress resting on a stone slab in the corner of the room, right next to the French Windows. A small wooden bookcase rested on a long teak desk at the other end, housing the books that the wizard was reading at the moment. A second desk was placed strategically next to the bed, allowing Xharûn to write or read in the bed, which was exactly what he did that night. The first book he was reading was Tatohanúgó the Winemaker's "Enchanted Intoxicants", a most intriguing book, and also lighthearted enough for him to read in the night, when his mind tended to be clouded with the events of the day past.

In his book, Tatohanúgó detailed the different types of wine that existed, and how certain fruits produced wines of different enchantment potentials, meaning that Wine X would have the potential to work a certain magic upon the consumer, while Wine Y would have another effect. The subject interested Xharûn greatly, considering that water and wine were very closely intertwined in Northern Cergunian lore. It was such a shame that Tatohanúgó was most likely among those who perished in the hellfire of that fateful day. Xharûn knew the man very well. He was a gregarious and hyperactive person, always full of energy despite being 78 years old. His bald and shiny head, along with his burgundy robes and long brown beard, allowed everybody to identify him even from a distance. Now, all that was gone.

Yet, Xharûn did not lament. He knew that Tatohanúgó was a kind soul, and that he was probably resting in paradise now. A single tear of joy bubbled on the old wizard's eye as he fell asleep, the book slipping out of his hand and thumping on the ground below, opened to the Pineapple page. The moonlight poured through the French Windows, casting a soothing light upon the wizard's world-weary face.

No longer did he fear the emptiness of eternity. Instead, he chose to embrace the final segment of life, of meaning.

Every day was a new day. Hope sprang eternal.

And every one would surpass the last.

429 (Don't Remove)

by **Plzen** » Sat Mar 21, 2015 3:30 am

Application

Name:
Sven Rynsburger

Nom de Guerre (if any):
Soul of Rijnsburg

Age:
47 years

Gender:
Male

Appearance:
A kind old man with an officer-like mustache and hair, who would be the perfect image of a Hollander gentleman was it not for the fact that his clothes, although cleaner, are no more luxurious than those of his crew.

Occupation:
Merchant, smuggler, and hired supplier, depending on which pays the most in any given week.

Allegiance:
Republic of the United Netherlands

Number of ships owned:
1 (a good-sized merchantman)

Flagship:
Not applicable

Crew / Fleet Size:
110 men, plus whatever passengers
Total firepower of 26 twelve-pounders (13 a side) and 6 six-pounders in the forecastle.

Notable crew members:
Nathan (19) and Johanna (23) Rynsburger, Sven's much beloved son and daughter.
Dean Peters, Sven's trusted friend and unofficially in charge of dealing with magical people.

Magical abilities (Y/N):
None

Non-magical abilities:
Well educated in the technical arts, Sven Rynsburger can design and construct whatever additions to his ship as he sees fit as well as directing with considerable competence the repairs of his own ship.

Weaknesses:
Magical abilities. Rynsburger always tries to not be near people with magical abilities, because it hampers his ability to think, move, speak, and, well, do anything.

Brief biography of character:
Sven Rynsburger was, as the name might suggest, born and raised in Rijnsburg, Holland, Dutch Republic. An ordinary woodworker and artisan, who never had problems keeping himself and his family prosperous with his keen intellect. Unfortunately, his time was one where tensions between the supernaturally blessed and those without natural abilities were reaching an all time high in the Dutch Republic.

As the tensions ramped, and as hostilities became more and more avert, Sven did everything he could to protect his livelihood. Letters from his friends and relatives in Rotterdam stopped after the Great Purges - and Sven could only expect the worst. Life went on, as neither side wanted to kill Sven and lose his abilities. Bullying and intimidation from the magically gifted went on, but bullying and intimidation, he could deal with.

But enough was enough. When a riot in Rijnsburg destroyed his place of work, killing his wife Rosa in front of his very eyes and his magic-influenced guild refused him further protection from the harassment of the supernaturally gifted, Sven decided, permanently traumatized and fearful of magic, that life in Holland was no longer friendly to him.

So he emptied out his savings, gathered a group of similarly minded people, and set sail for the New World, hoping that the Colonies will be friendlier to those without magic.

It has been five years since they left the Dutch Republic, and Rynsburgers have found a new home - one that was attached to no ground.

Personality:
Courteous, yet not kind to strangers. Calm and detached at first impression, but fiercely loyal to those Rynsburger considers his friends.

Role-Playing sample:

-from viewtopic.php?f=31&t=333148

429 (Don't Remove)

by **Altito Asmoro** » Sat Mar 21, 2015 5:39 am

Bunkeranlage wrote:If you'd like a UTC +0800 co-OP, I'm available.

Application (please remove everything in square brackets)

Name:
Francesco Casciano

Nom de Guerre (if any):
The Priest

Age:
59

Gender:
Male, Heterosexual

Appearance:
(Image)

206cm
90kg

Occupation:
Privateer

Allegiance:
The British Empire

Number of ships owned:
3

Domitian
Lucius
HMS Guardian

Flagship:
Domitian: Frigate, 48 guns, 3 masts, 110 crew

Crew / Fleet Size:
280

Notable crew members:
(Image)

Terrence Teague
AKA "The Organist"
39 years old, Second-in-Command
Captain, Lucius

Terrence has the ability to create and manipulate fire to his will. This is particularly so when it comes to wood fires, though strictly speaking, any fire is subject to his will.

He cannot use this ability when he is submerged in water, though he can still do so when he is wet.

Magical abilities (Y/N):
No

Non-magical abilities:
Casciano is a sharpshooter.

Weaknesses:
He is unable to fight in close range, as he has very severe gout in his knees. As such, he can only be of use from a distance.

Brief biography of character:
Born in London to an Italian family living there, the youngest of 4 children, Casciano grew up with an inexplicable thirst to sail on the seas. His father, Giordano, wanted him to follow in the family business, i.e. making fusilli. However, when he was 18, it became clear that he wasn't meant for the job, and after much consideration, he allowed the boy to join the merchant service.

On one particular voyage, when he was 27, Casciano was caught in a storm, and was stranded on an island with three others, one of whom was a priest. As he was already a devout Catholic, Casciano decided to learn as much from the priest as he could, to make the best of the situation. It was only 12 days later, when the others had died, that Casciano was rescued.

It turned out to be a pirate crew, however, which allowed Casciano to live only on condition of him joining the crew as a chore boy. Reluctantly accepting, Casciano soon warmed up to his new life, eventually devoting himself to a life of piracy, yet maintaining a strong sense of chivalry and a number of base morals, such as not torturing unnecessarily. This "gentlemanly" behaviour gained him the epithet "The Priest".

By the time he was 47, Casciano had amassed an enormous fleet for himself, numbering 14 ships (a large number for a pirate). His notoriety grew, and by the time he was 50, he already had a bounty of £50,000,000 on his head. Soon enough, at the age of 51, Casciano's fleet was wrecked by a Spanish fleet, which brought him back to Spain in chains, awaiting a sentence (for he had sunk many Spanish ships). However, the British government, by some under-table dealings, managed to get Casciano off of the hands of the Spaniards. Knowing that he was a master of the sea, the British awarded him pardon for his piracy, retracting and freezing his bounty and providing him with a Naval vessel; the 20 gun HMS Guardian. He was also allowed to keep the two ships that had survived the onslaught, the Domitian, his flagship, and the 28 gun Lucius, which was placed under the command of Casciano's energetic and high-spirited 2IC, the former Navy officer Terrence Teague.

He has been a privateer under the service of the Crown ever since.

Personality:
ENTJ

Casciano is a highly chivalrous and self-righteous man, and is often found preaching his moral code to his men. He places strict restrictions on what his men are allowed to do to prisoners, and will not hesitate to dish out heavy punishments for violations. Despite this, all (or at least, most) of his men know that he cares for them very much, and will go through much trouble to save them should they fall in danger. He once shot a French marine officer who attempted to kill 2IC Teague, despite the former's high status.

He also refrains from drinking, but will not hesitate to gorge himself silly at parties, much to the surprise of those more familiar with his gentlemanly behaviour.

Casciano is a boisterous man, always eager to share dirty jokes and ghost stories with his acquaintances and friends. He is a party creature, and despite his abstinence from alcohol, will not hesitate to give it to his men in extremely liberal amounts.

On several occasions, Casciano has stated that his favourite food is gnocchi with gorgonzola sauce.

Role-Playing sample:
Bunkeranlage wrote:Day I

The first day of solitude had passed already. Standing by the spring on his island, the great Ocean Magus rested on his staff, his long, white hair flowing in the headwinds of the high altitude. So far, his days had been rather lonely. After all, Alvus spent his time with himself, munching placidly on grass. His books, he piled into his castle in the middle of the island. Much of the day had been spent arranging the books in alphabetical order. From those by Aavôl the Blue all the way to those by Zyugalzar the Illusionist, every single one of the 183 books he had taken in the last four years was now stacked into his personal library. Xharûn could not help but feel a sense of satisfaction.

The irony was that, despite having written 4 books in his lifetime, Xharûn didn't have a single one of his own in that enormous library. Having memorised all of them, he didn't feel any need to do so. Also, since they were all about the manipulation of water, it would be redundant for him, the foremost authority on water magic, to keep books on the subject lying around in an alcove of limited space. If he had had a library in Cergun, the option to leave them there as a bragging right might have at least scraped the surface of his mind. Now, though, bragging was unnecessary. He wasn't one to brag, anyway.

I don't see any point in showing off. Often, most people can tell how little you really know.

Despite the task being mundane to most other people, the Ocean Magus felt a sense of... comfort... in doing something so meaningless. After all, he had just witnessed the total annihilation of everything he once knew. Meaning, if it even existed anymore, was no more than a faint shadow on the blankness of eternal vacuity. All that was left for him was to simply accept that life would be in vain from now on, and that it would be best to enjoy it while it lasted. While stacking the books, Xharûn took the opportunity to leaf through a few of them and skim their content in the hope of finding something interesting. A few caught his attention for their extraordinary content, such as Sańusvanar the Golden's account on the Great War of Teleovan 7,000 years ago. Others, he noticed because of the sheer horror that permeated their pages, like Huron the Torturer's book on torture spells. A few did not even make any sense at all, an example being Aknadin the Fallen's Millennium Spell Book, which only detailed instructions on how to create some strange golden jewellery. Of course, as Xharûn knew, it would be unwise to throw away a book just because it was gibberish. Often, what one did not understand at some point would later come back to help him when he least expected and most needed.

Having read through the books and packed them into the empty stone alcoves in the little castle at the centre of the island, Xharûn decided to go out to walk about his island. Such a huge island, and the majority of it was comprised of grassy, rolling plains and an intricate network of clear spring water. As he stepped gingerly into the cooling waters, washing himself, Xharûn reflected upon his life, both the old one, and the new, meaningless one. Whether the Creator wished to impart anything into it, to weave him back into the endless tapestry of time, he did not yet know. As Alvus trotted over, whinnying merrily, the old Magus sighed. If only he could live like the horse, unaware of the vanity of life, spending all his days galloping freely in the wind. No, even the horse did not have that freedom to live life as he wished. Life was empty now. And that emptiness was mandatory.

The dying sun quickly sank below the horizon, giving way to the darkness of night. The green dancers flittered across the sky, leaving their numinous trails of light on the black textile of the late night sky. From his bedroom on the second floor of the castle, the Magus watched the magnificent dance of the lights, orchestrated by an unseen conductor. They gave him the hope that, even in the bleak despair of the aimless existence, he could still be free and joyful. Even in his old age, that was not unobtainable...

Day II

A new day brought a new beginning and new opportunities. The little garden that Xharûn found at the back of the castle that morning was a godsend, in that he would be able to grow plants for eating, albeit just tomatoes and potatoes. Digging about the insides of the castle, Xharûn was able to find a number of sprouting potatoes and tomato seeds lying about. Wasting no time, he immediately went to the garden and planted the seeds, whispering a life water spell that sent little drizzles of fresh water sprinkling over the plants, allowing them to sprout faster. Now, food wasn't a problem anymore.

Satisfied with this new achievement, the Ocean Magus decided to take another walk around the sides of the island. The sun had barely reached its peak, sending rays of beautiful light raining upon the old wizard and everything on his island. His staff in one hand, Xharûn strode about the edges of the island, looking out into the blank horizon. He was mercifully unable to look upon the devastation that, no doubt, raged on below. The cloud canopy separated him from the horrors of the apocalypse that was ravaging Cergun from the bottom up.

Somehow, this only made him feel worse. They in the North of Cergun knew, all along, that it was going to happen. As the old Northern saying went, "Eðelnur Veþhaå Cærgúnus Heldaiðúr", literally "The Burst of the Eternal Cergunian Fires". As the millennia went by, what the Northerners knew as a fact soon became challenged by a new generation, who believed themselves to be invincible. Time passed, and the revelation soon became a prophecy, prophecy became premonition, premonition became legend. Eventually, it was regarded as naught but folklore. And he, Xharûn the Ocean Magus, had witnessed that legend swirl into a hideous reality. No amount of fanciful astrology or superstition was going to change that.

Xharûn, having taken two walks already, soon became more familiar with the island that was both his solace and his prison. It was flat, with a few knolls here and there. A spring bubbled out from a peninsula at the northernmost tip of the island, sending the clear spring water gushing down into the creeks of his island. A single scrawny sapling sprouted near the spring. It was unable to bear any fruits or anything useful at all. The thought of cutting it down had crossed the wizard's mind. As he was about to turn back and find an axe, Xharûn realised that he did not have the heart to lay a finger on it. It was another living creature, just like him. It was going through the same ordeal as him, the same problem of meaninglessness. There was no way he could kill the poor thing, even if it would be for his benefit. Walking over to the sapling, Xharûn knelt down, running his fingers lightly along the frail stalk of the young tree.

"Don't worry", he whispered gently to the sapling. "I will make sure you survive, and that you grow into the greatest of trees, no matter how long it takes." From the look of the tree, as well as the fact that it was a Nårguu Tree, which could sometimes take millennia to grow, Xharûn knew that it would probably outlive him ten thousandfold. That was of no concern, however. For as long as he lived, so would the sapling.

Standing up, the wizard looked out at the empty sky, then at the rolling hills of his island and at the idyllic castle perched on the opposite end of the island. Something sparked inside him. If he was capable of focusing on the vast emptiness of the outside life, was he not capable of focusing on the converse, on whatever good that still burned within? The thought struck him hard.

Life wasn't meaningless.

True, there was the vast emptiness of the sky, of the clouds and whatever horrors lay below. Yet, there was also the heavenly sanctuary that was his little island. There was a wealth of knowledge locked away within his fortress of gneiss and marble, and a treasury of biology right there on the hills. There was Alvus the chestnut mare, and the baby giant that sprouted unassumingly from the bubbling mouth of the creeks. Most of all, there was the serene, holy water that coursed through the veins of the island, springing forth from its core. He, Xharûn, the great Ocean Magus, had witnessed the very heart of the island's life force, beating on without fail from inside the Great Cave. It was truly a humbling experience, witnessing such a magnificent and awe inspiring display of the genesis of the island's life. And here he was, supposedly one of the wisest of the entire Order of Wizards, having the gall to call life meaningless???

Turning around, the wizard headed back to his castle, the spring returning to his step. How could he have been so blind in the past, to focus on the emptiness rather than what lay within it? There was no need for that at all. It only served to dampen the spirits and shorten the life expectancy.

Now, with that in mind, hope returned to him. His castle suddenly seemed a lot brighter as he entered, despite the torches not having been lit in the ante-rooms. Going straight through to the garden, the old wizard noticed with great delight that his water of life had, indeed worked. The first shoots of tomato plants were growing heartily from the soft soil. Soon, he would have luscious tomatoes for his meals. Whether in the form of raw slices, or soft, baked chunks, or even as a sauce, the possibilities were endless. Sprinkling more Life Water on the plants, the wizard reentered the castle, taking the last half loaf of barley bread out of his small pouch. It didn't matter if he finished it all now, since he would have juicy tomatoes the next day and, if he was lucky, warm, golden brown potatoes. Tearing off little slices of it and savouring it, Xharûn stood at the edge of the garden, looking at the setting sun. It was the second time he witnessed twilight from so many thousands of kilometres above the ground, and he was beginning to get used to it. In fact, he found it absolutely beautiful.

Not that the sun was boring back on Cergun- it was stunning regardless of the location. Yet, the sheer novelty of seeing a sunset from the top instead of the bottom was just... indescribable. Xharûn could not help but smile a big, cheek-to-cheek smile. The Almighty definitely had a way of revealing himself to him, in the most subtle way possible, with no need for in-your-face vulgarity that they humans were so used to. The fine nuance of it was simply breathtaking, especially with no other human distractions to take his eyes off of the simple beauty of a setting sun.

Soon, the Dancers began their arcane ballet again, and the Magus retreated to the bedroom of his castle after a refreshing bath in the stream directly outside his castle's wooden Yggdrasil doors. It was these streams that made him thankful for his ability to manipulate water. Otherwise, his body would be sticky and odoriferous, contributing less than nicely to the atmosphere. Now, however, he was able to freshen up before every day and every night, something he would be eternally grateful for.

Xharûn's bedroom consisted of a mattress resting on a stone slab in the corner of the room, right next to the French Windows. A small wooden bookcase rested on a long teak desk at the other end, housing the books that the wizard was reading at the moment. A second desk was placed strategically next to the bed, allowing Xharûn to write or read in the bed, which was exactly what he did that night. The first book he was reading was Tatohanúgó the Winemaker's "Enchanted Intoxicants", a most intriguing book, and also lighthearted enough for him to read in the night, when his mind tended to be clouded with the events of the day past.

In his book, Tatohanúgó detailed the different types of wine that existed, and how certain fruits produced wines of different enchantment potentials, meaning that Wine X would have the potential to work a certain magic upon the consumer, while Wine Y would have another effect. The subject interested Xharûn greatly, considering that water and wine were very closely intertwined in Northern Cergunian lore. It was such a shame that Tatohanúgó was most likely among those who perished in the hellfire of that fateful day. Xharûn knew the man very well. He was a gregarious and hyperactive person, always full of energy despite being 78 years old. His bald and shiny head, along with his burgundy robes and long brown beard, allowed everybody to identify him even from a distance. Now, all that was gone.

Yet, Xharûn did not lament. He knew that Tatohanúgó was a kind soul, and that he was probably resting in paradise now. A single tear of joy bubbled on the old wizard's eye as he fell asleep, the book slipping out of his hand and thumping on the ground below, opened to the Pineapple page. The moonlight poured through the French Windows, casting a soothing light upon the wizard's world-weary face.

No longer did he fear the emptiness of eternity. Instead, he chose to embrace the final segment of life, of meaning.

Every day was a new day. Hope sprang eternal.

And every one would surpass the last.

429 (Don't Remove)

Accepted, welcome aboard.

Bunkeranlage, you're a new co-op in this ship, welcome first mate.

Plzen wrote:Application

Name:
Sven Rynsburger

Nom de Guerre (if any):
Soul of Rijnsburg

Age:
47 years

Gender:
Male

Appearance:
A kind old man with an officer-like mustache and hair, who would be the perfect image of a Hollander gentleman was it not for the fact that his clothes, although cleaner, are no more luxurious than those of his crew.

Occupation:
Merchant, smuggler, and hired supplier, depending on which pays the most in any given week.

Allegiance:
Republic of the United Netherlands

Number of ships owned:
1 (a good-sized merchantman)

Flagship:
Not applicable

Crew / Fleet Size:
110 men, plus whatever passengers
Total firepower of 26 twelve-pounders (13 a side) and 6 six-pounders in the forecastle.

Notable crew members:
Nathan (19) and Johanna (23) Rynsburger, Sven's much beloved son and daughter.
Dean Peters, Sven's trusted friend and unofficially in charge of dealing with magical people.

Magical abilities (Y/N):
None

Non-magical abilities:
Well educated in the technical arts, Sven Rynsburger can design and construct whatever additions to his ship as he sees fit as well as directing with considerable competence the repairs of his own ship.

Weaknesses:
Magical abilities. Rynsburger always tries to not be near people with magical abilities, because it hampers his ability to think, move, speak, and, well, do anything.

Brief biography of character:
Sven Rynsburger was, as the name might suggest, born and raised in Rijnsburg, Holland, Dutch Republic. An ordinary woodworker and artisan, who never had problems keeping himself and his family prosperous with his keen intellect. Unfortunately, his time was one where tensions between the supernaturally blessed and those without natural abilities were reaching an all time high in the Dutch Republic.

As the tensions ramped, and as hostilities became more and more avert, Sven did everything he could to protect his livelihood. Letters from his friends and relatives in Rotterdam stopped after the Great Purges - and Sven could only expect the worst. Life went on, as neither side wanted to kill Sven and lose his abilities. Bullying and intimidation from the magically gifted went on, but bullying and intimidation, he could deal with.

But enough was enough. When a riot in Rijnsburg destroyed his place of work, killing his wife Rosa in front of his very eyes and his magic-influenced guild refused him further protection from the harassment of the supernaturally gifted, Sven decided, permanently traumatized and fearful of magic, that life in Holland was no longer friendly to him.

So he emptied out his savings, gathered a group of similarly minded people, and set sail for the New World, hoping that the Colonies will be friendlier to those without magic.

It has been five years since they left the Dutch Republic, and Rynsburgers have found a new home - one that was attached to no ground.

Personality:
Courteous, yet not kind to strangers. Calm and detached at first impression, but fiercely loyal to those Rynsburger considers his friends.

Role-Playing sample:
"...be prepared to conduct a state of undeclared war indefinitely," recited Risto Kekkonen.

Chairman Johansson nodded. He rose to speak.

"Such, ladies and gentlemen, are my thoughts. I would like to hear yours, before I make a final decision.

Fredrika Stendahl of the Department of Research and Technical Development rose to speak.

"I would like to argue for silence, at least until we have a decent military recruited," she spoke, "right now, it will take nothing more than one disgruntled infantry regiment - nay, company, that stumbles across New Stockholm to completely destroy us. We cannot risk such an eventuality. We must make use of our arctic location to remain isolated."

Kaarlo Kallio of the Department of Construction and Grounds had different ideas.

"If Ms. Stendahl thinks we can remain isolated ad infinitum, she is unfortunately mistaken. This planet simply isn't large enough for us to ignore others."

Stendahl stared at him. A very cold stare that was.

"Face the truth, ladies and gentlemen. We must find security in numbers. We need to find allies to secure our borders," Kallio concluded.

"Besides," Kallio mused, "my name alliterates as finely as well as their company's rhyme. Might be interesting to beat up on that fact."

Fredrika was outraged.

"If this man, no - bull - thinks he can make decisions of state off..."

Sven intervened.

"Enough, Doctor Stendahl."

This was going to be a long night.

-from viewtopic.php?f=31&t=333148

429 (Don't Remove)

Accepted, welcome aboard.

Be wary though, of competitors, or worse, the navy.

by **Bunkeranlage** » Sat Mar 21, 2015 5:51 am

If anybody wants ship designs, feel free to approach me.

by **Altito Asmoro** » Sat Mar 21, 2015 5:54 am

Bunkeranlage wrote:If anybody wants ship designs, feel free to approach me.

Sure.

But I may or may not make an app.

by **Bunkeranlage** » Sat Mar 21, 2015 5:55 am

Altito Asmoro wrote:
Bunkeranlage wrote:If anybody wants ship designs, feel free to approach me.

Sure.

But I may or may not make an app.

On that note, I suppose the two of us will be controlling NPC fleets and so on?

by **Altito Asmoro** » Sat Mar 21, 2015 5:56 am

Bunkeranlage wrote:
Altito Asmoro wrote:
Sure.

But I may or may not make an app.

On that note, I suppose the two of us will be controlling NPC fleets and so on?

Yes, both of us (or a trio of us, depending on the grow rate of the RP).

by **Bunkeranlage** » Sat Mar 21, 2015 6:00 am

Altito Asmoro wrote:
Bunkeranlage wrote:
On that note, I suppose the two of us will be controlling NPC fleets and so on?

Yes, both of us (or a trio of us, depending on the grow rate of the RP).

Why don't you post an advertisement on the RP advertisement sticky? That might help attract more people.

by **Esternial** » Sat Mar 21, 2015 6:16 am

I'll be filling out my application in this post. Like I said in the planning thread, I'll be taking up an alternate version of Edward Thatch It'll take a bit of time to fit in the bits and pieces.

Application

Name: Edward Thatch

Nom de Guerre (if any): Blackbeard

Age: 32

Gender: Male

Appearance:

Occupation: Pirate.

Allegiance:
The Independent State of Nassau

Number of ships owned:
1

Flagship:
Queen Anne's Revenge, 40 guns

Crew / Fleet Size:
Queen Anne's Revenge: 120

Notable crew members:
Christopher Blackwood (Blackbeard's Claw)

Magical abilities (Y/N):
List of magical abilities (Elaborate briefly on each):
Smoke Manipulation: The only ability in his magical arsenal, yet so incredibly versatile that he can use it to many ends, Edward's ability to manifest, manipulate and even turn his own body into smoke is one of the main factors that have contributed to his success as a pirate and have added weight to his legend.

Non-magical abilities:
From his time serving as a privateer, Edward has extensive knowledge on how to captain a ship and is a seasoned pirate. He is well-read and spoken and - perhaps unusual for a pirate - no stranger to politeness and diplomacy.

Weaknesses:
Though his magical ability is certainly supernatural, it is still limited by the nature of its element, smoke. As a result, it is vulnerable to exceptionally strong winds.

Brief biography of character:
Edward Thatch was born an exceptional boy in an unexceptional family in England. Like any boy in a moderately wealthy family, he was given an education and taugth how to read and write, but as he became older he followed the path of many young men with a magical aptitude, enlisted by The British Royal Navy and sent off to the American colonies as a member of the magic corps. With his magical abilities, Edward fought valiantly against the French navy during Queen Anne's War, becoming a quartermaster fairly early on in his career due to his exceptional brand of boldness and bravery.

At some point during the war, though, his ship was scuttled by a French fleet, and Edward ended up marooned on a small island. It would have ended there if it wasn't for a band of privateers to cross his path, saving his life and adopting him into their crew. Until the end of the war, he served with his new crew and finally ended up in New Providence when the Treaty of Utrecht was signed. With no desire to return to the British Navy, he settled into a life of piracy and seized himself a ship. It was then that he settled into a life of piracy and when the legend of Blackbeard was born.

His only ship, Queen Anne's Revenge, has rarely been spotted on the open seas, as it is often shrouded by a thick sheet of smoke, adding to the mystery of Captain Blackbeard and his crew. Among his own men and other pirates, he quickly became known as a cunning and knowledgeable man, and some consider him an influential figure in whatever resembles a political landscape in Nassau.

Despite his imposing presence, Edward is no ruthless man, preferring intimidation to use of force to achieve his goals. In fact, the reason behind his crew's loyalty lies mostly in respect towards their captain and his ability to get results with no loss of life. Considering his own crew and other pirates like family, he is a dutiful man with perhaps a surprising degree of honor among pirates.

Role-Playing sample: Most recent

429

by **Plzen** » Sat Mar 21, 2015 7:18 am

Altito Asmoro wrote:Accepted, welcome aboard.

Be wary though, of competitors, or worse, the navy.

Why, thanks. My tale will probably be that of desperate survival.

I think I'll probably be one of the weaker players in this RP, so I hope there are more players from the Netherlands who can watch my back!

by **Mundeo** » Sat Mar 21, 2015 7:20 am

le tag

by **Soviet Chernarus** » Sat Mar 21, 2015 7:25 am

taggg

by **Diliath** » Sat Mar 21, 2015 9:34 am

by **Altito Asmoro** » Sat Mar 21, 2015 9:50 am

Esternial wrote:I'll be filling out my application in this post. Like I said in the planning thread, I'll be taking up an alternate version of Edward Thatch It'll take a bit of time to fit in the bits and pieces.

Application

Name: Edward Thatch

Nom de Guerre (if any): Blackbeard

Age: 32

Gender: Male

Appearance:
(Image)

Occupation: Pirate.

Allegiance:
The Independent State of Nassau

Number of ships owned:
1

Flagship:
Queen Anne's Revenge, 40 guns

Crew / Fleet Size:
Queen Anne's Revenge: 120

Notable crew members:
Christopher Blackwood (Blackbeard's Claw)

Magical abilities (Y/N):
List of magical abilities (Elaborate briefly on each):
Smoke Manipulation: The only ability in his magical arsenal, yet so incredibly versatile that he can use it to many ends, Edward's ability to manifest, manipulate and even turn his own body into smoke is one of the main factors that have contributed to his success as a pirate and have added weight to his legend.

Non-magical abilities:
From his time serving as a privateer, Edward has extensive knowledge on how to captain a ship and is a seasoned pirate. He is well-read and spoken and - perhaps unusual for a pirate - no stranger to politeness and diplomacy.

Weaknesses:
Though his magical ability is certainly supernatural, it is still limited by the nature of its element, smoke. As a result, it is vulnerable to exceptionally strong winds.

Brief biography of character:
Edward Thatch was born an exceptional boy in an unexceptional family in England. Like any boy in a moderately wealthy family, he was given an education and taugth how to read and write, but as he became older he followed the path of many young men with a magical aptitude, enlisted by The British Royal Navy and sent off to the American colonies as a member of the magic corps. With his magical abilities, Edward fought valiantly against the French navy during Queen Anne's War, becoming a quartermaster fairly early on in his career due to his exceptional brand of boldness and bravery.

At some point during the war, though, his ship was scuttled by a French fleet, and Edward ended up marooned on a small island. It would have ended there if it wasn't for a band of privateers to cross his path, saving his life and adopting him into their crew. Until the end of the war, he served with his new crew and finally ended up in New Providence when the Treaty of Utrecht was signed. With no desire to return to the British Navy, he settled into a life of piracy and seized himself a ship. It was then that he settled into a life of piracy and when the legend of Blackbeard was born.

His only ship, Queen Anne's Revenge, has rarely been spotted on the open seas, as it is often shrouded by a thick sheet of smoke, adding to the mystery of Captain Blackbeard and his crew. Among his own men and other pirates, he quickly became known as a cunning and knowledgeable man, and some consider him an influential figure in whatever resembles a political landscape in Nassau.

Despite his imposing presence, Edward is no ruthless man, preferring intimidation to use of force to achieve his goals. In fact, the reason behind his crew's loyalty lies mostly in respect towards their captain and his ability to get results with no loss of life. Considering his own crew and other pirates like family, he is a dutiful man with perhaps a surprising degree of honor among pirates.

Role-Playing sample: Most recent

429

Accepted, Thatch.

Welcome aboard.

by **Moth-Gar** » Sat Mar 21, 2015 8:35 pm

Moth-Gar wrote:
Name: Michael Smith

Nom de Guerre (if any): "Mad Man"

Age: 24

Gender: Straight Male

Occupation: Pirate

Allegiance: To Myself

Number of ships owned: 2

Flagship: "The Mad Bitch", a Brig with 8 cannons on each side

Crew / Fleet Size:
Crew size: 14 on the brig and 12 on the Sloop
Fleet size: 2

Notable crew members: First Mate is Michael's Lover (Girl), the Master Gunner has a fire magic, the Pilot is crippled in the leg
Magical abilities (Y/N): None

Non-magical abilities: Skilled in hand to hand Combat

Weaknesses: Can be too hot headed and impulsive (Hence the name "Mad Man"), he's not a shooter (Gun) at all

Brief biography of character: Michael was born and raised in Edinburg, Scotland, to a family of farmers and fishermen. He was considered a big yet healthy child, who was rarely sick, but didn't laugh or smile much. Michael was a serious child, rarely smiling or making jokes, but liked to play outside with other kids, or even help his father in catching fishes. At the age of 6, he was home schooled by his mother, learning how to write and read, but hated Math. He was interested more in sailing and physical activities/sports, like climbing up trees or sailing with his father, who noted the Michael's happiness when they sailed through the water.

At 12, he was already working with his father, sailing the boat and catching fishes. He was considered a strong boy, mainly because he liked to climb up trees or working in the fields with his mother. He then met, at the age of 13, his lover, Samantha. Samantha was a pretty child with blonde hair and blue eyes, in contrast to Michael's Jet Black hair and green eyes. She was partly Irish and English, had the typical skin color of the British people and was almost as tall as Michael. They played a lot together with games like hide and seek or helped each other in their family's business. Samantha's family was home to the Navy's sailors, having experienced sailing in the British Navy for some time.

At 18, he wanted to join the Navy, hoping to sail the waters and bring back much needed money to his family. He told Samantha of his decision and she supported him, asking her brothers for support about Michael joining the Navy. The feeling was also mutual to Michael's family, who supported him also. Eventually, he entered Navy School in London, where he excelled himself in physical activities and leadership activities while having good grades in his academic studies. Eventually, he graduated at the age of 19, with honors. He was assigned to a brig that was about to sail the Caribbeans, when he found out the nature of British Captain. The captain usually insulted him about his poor background, mainly because he didn't like the Scottish. Michael dealt with it, thinking about his family all the time when being insulted.

At the age of 21, after distinguishing himself as a capable and strong leader, with a buzz cut to go with that. He was assigned to a Brig, his first assignment to the Caribbeans, where he had his first fight with pirates. He fought valiantly, leading his men to battle and personally led the charge, unfortunately, he was defeated and captured, with his brig being taken by the pirates. At 22, after being a prisoner for a year, the pirates told him of the perks of being 'free', with no one to listen to but 'you, yourself, and no one else'. He liked that idea, and asked what he should he do to be a 'free' man. The pirates laughed and told him he can't be a pirate because he was schooled by 'tea drinking, biscuits eating pussies'. Michael was angry, and said to them "I'll kill you and take back my ship". Again, the pirates laughed.

At 23, he did escape and killed the pirates while everyone was sleeping in the ship. He took back his Brig that was assigned to him and sailed back to Edinburgh. He told Samantha about what he did and what he heard about being a pirate, which made Samantha excited and curious and eagerly joined him in his adventure. At 24, he and his lover, after experiencing the life of a pirate, decided to live like this until they both agree to stop, and agreed they're doing this for the sake of their families.

Role-Playing sample: viewtopic.php?f=31&t=334474&p=23919151&sid=73d1619d151b4cdd29070fb0cc0e7698#p23919151

429 (Don't Remove)

Done

by **Soviet Chernarus** » Sat Mar 21, 2015 8:40 pm

WIP

Application

Name:
Robert Flemings

Nom de Guerre (if any):
Ice Fist (also known as Ice Dragon or Cold-Eyed)

Age:
35

Gender:
Male

Appearance:

Occupation:
French corsair/privateer

Allegiance:
Kingdom of France

Number of ships owned:
2 (The Aurore and the Améthyste

Flagship:
Aurore: 32-gun frigate, 120 crew)

Crew / Fleet Size:
250 crew
2 ships total

Notable crew members:

Magical abilities (Y/N):
Yes. Flemings is able to control, manipulate, create, and literally become ice. He is also able to freeze water, although his ability does not extend to the water vapor in the air. However, there are serious limits and constraints to his ability, which will be detailed later in the application.

Non-magical abilities:
He is a very capable captain and leader, having been privateering for a couple years now, he has amassed considerable experience in the field of privateering. Before he became a privateer, he was a semi-successful merchant who profited off the slave trade. He also is a decent swordsman, although he prefers not to use a sword unless he is forced to.

Weaknesses:
Due to his ice ability, he is weak against fire/heat type magical abilities which could burn through or melt his ice. His ability also has severe limitations, including the fact that he could not freeze the entire world's oceans. He is able to freeze water up to 1 square mile, a tactic he often employs to trap enemy vessels and ships in ice.

Brief biography of character:

Personality:

Role-Playing sample:

429 (Don't Remove)[/quote]

The Magical Age of Piracy OOC (OPEN)

The Magical Age of Piracy OOC (OPEN)

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