an attempt at role-playing

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wherewolf05hr6r
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an attempt at role-playing

It was a dim and warm afternoon, I began to get a bit frightened by the shadows playing tricks on my eyes, but I kept going. I was happy though, I was finally brave enough (or stupid) to leave the willow of souls, and venture to the island of destiny.
I am a simple, young apprentice of the mystical kingdom, I yearned for adventure, and since there is so many recruits similar to me, me running away wouldn't be an issue.
Even though there's a war going on, the mail is still delivered almost instantly, so I made an arrangement with my uncle, to meet me near the river which separates the holy kingdom from the mystical, I'm going to cross the river and travel with my uncle to the isle of fate, there i should be able to know how to become a hero, my uncle is interested in becoming one too, so this works out...

:SPLAT:

I step into a pile of dung, it doesn't take long for the smell to reach my nose, and as disgusting as it were, It was a sign of luck, animals do not shit and hunt in the exact same place, and the smell, quickly silenced my growling stomach, I was already close enough to hear the quiet murmur of the river.
It was a bit late, so the tide has been coming, and I still had to wait for my uncle, and my stomach was getting restless, I decided to throw a net, so that when the tide subdued I would have some food.
after throwing the net, I decided to catch some zs. before I did that, I prayed for luck and safetly for me and my uncle.

: ANOTHER PLAYER NEEDED FOR THE STORY TO PROGRESS UNTIL ALL 6 PLAYERS ARE INTRODUCED:
:one player per kingdom:
:the new player must introduce another player from the same alliance:
:wherewolf0 ( mystical)->ShawnThorn(holy)->Albus95(ancient)->Shakhs(alchemy)->...:
:players must choose to be a core common creature of their respective kingdom:

ShawnThorn

"damn it where is that boy"
As a gruff, older man walks down the pathway that winds down along the side for a river, he looks around, hoping to spot his nephew.
"I will tan that boy's hide if he is late.. . "
The leans upon a walking stick, which has a faint pearly light emiting from it.
"Kid is just like his mother, never can be someplace on time"
The garb he wears are nothing impressive, known more for their inexpensiveness than apperance, also known to make your skin itchy and your manner ill. Thou I doubt the old man needed much help with making his temperment foul.
"Where is he! I told him to not stall around here. Too many bandits wander though this area to be lollie-gagging."
As the man utters this, he spys a mound to his right.
"By the Gods! That boy is sleeping!"
The man rushes as fast as he can, which is fairly fast even with his hobble.
"Daum it kid, I told her I would protect you. Can't do that if you sleep out in the open like this in bandit country."
The old man reaches down and pulls off the blanket off and prepares to yell at the boy.
"THE BLOODY HE......"
He stops mid-shout, as he realizes the person he pulled the blanket off, is not his nephew.

ShawnThorn

((This can be the intro, or if this is not what yall had in mind I can write it up as a NCPE.))

Malhavok

Fire.
All around him was fire.
The molten ridge was quite active tonight. There was enough flame to taint the world an eerie red. This was his land. Land of the elves. Servants of the forces of nature. Fire and Ice, it explained his people well. Wild and erratic as a flame in the wind, yet cold and calculating when it was needed. And it was often needed. The mystics had chased his kind from their forests ages ago and vengeance was long over due.
Something was stirring in the world. Powers were awakening. The humans claimed they had awakened an angelic entity and the undead were claiming similar achievements. T'rror had risen from the 9 hells and with him his legions of demons, the humans were in for hard times...
But that was not Malhavok's worry, humans have the life span of gnats and the undead were allies of his people. Though I do not believe they have a place in the natural order of Euna, they were useful, dispensable, solders that could be used to make the fae suffer.
Mal focused and gathered mana to summon an elemental, a minor one. He needed messengers to contact his spies in the mystic wood. The Ents remembered who were the true masters of Euna. The Ents will still aid the elves retake what was lost... soon the willow of souls would burn...