Hunters of Alrugard: A Hunt into Darkness

[Alfhedil]

Alrugard. The frozen world.

 

It is a world covered in a perpetual winter, nothing stays warm here. Through the ice and snow vicious predators pick off the weak and dying, for this is a land without mercy. Those humans that live here in the wastes of Alrugard do so in vast mobile colonies floating high above the frigid wastes. Death takes many forms here on Alrugard, however, and not even the skies are safe. Giant predatory birds wander the skies looking for anything to eat, sometimes even picking people off the streets of their floating towns. Lithe cat-like beings stalk the tundra looking for an easy kill. Even below ground predators lurk around every bend in the tunnel. Such a world is a harsh place to live, yet through antiquated science the humans stay above the harsh surface for as long as their fuel survives. And so it is that two groups have equal importance here, those who keep the machines running, and those who hunt the surface.

 

Those who dare to call themselves hunters are those who venture to the surface with little more than torch and spear. These are the men and women of the colonies who brave the hoarfrost blizzards, and the deadly landscape to hunt the packs of herd animals. They are those who keep the colonies fed, the ones who guard the machinists on fuel outings. They are the Hunters of Alrugard. This is their story, a story of bitter isolation in the unforgiving wastes of Alrugard. It is also a story of how they conquered the Galruvian Horror...

 

 

It is through our deeds that we can truly call ourselves worthy, for only through action can our valor be determined. This is the way we of the hunters live, this is our choice. We men and women of the colonies make the decision to provide for humanity by daily risking our lives on the surface of Alrugard. The life of a hunter is rough; everyday our life is in danger, be it the landscape or the creatures which call it home. Yet, even though we may die upon the surface of this cruel world, we choose to live there rather than within the safety of the colonies. We choose to separate ourselves from the possibility of becoming part of the society we support because of the society we support. The hunter cannot be loved intimately by one of the colonists because of the fact that we do not truly know if we will survive the night. Even when one of us has earned his stay within the colonies, we are still attached to Alrugard, choosing to go on what is known as The Great Journey. It is on this Great Journey that the hunters become fully one with Alrugard, the one thing that we of the hunters strive for. Yes, we choose to live within the natural laws of Alrugard, and in doing so we become the hunters of those who have stalked these lands for millennia. We keep the Alrugardian cycle as close to us as possible, hunting in accordance to our ancient terran ancestors. The only weapons we use are those we can make from the dead, spears from the teeth of ancient carnivores, clubs from the femurs of large bipeds, and anything the mind can imagine. We frown upon the weapons which kill from afar, choosing to go in and see our prey, and of course killing with those who have been killed. This is our life, a life we chose. Do not look down upon us as savages, for we bring food to humanity, and we do so with the skill of one who loves the very animal they kill. Do not look up to us, for we stand upon the brink of death at every moment, with but a breeze between us and a terrifying death.

 

 

For the last few thousand years humanity had struggled to survive on a planet so hostile to them that early colonists had declared it a death world. Humanity took root upon Alrugard on the verge of extinction, faced with being wiped out from within or a bleak existence upon Alrugard. While the records of the colonies do not have much from before Alrugard, they make it clear that all of humanity did not take to the frozen wastes. A great schism formed between those who took to Alrugard and those who chose to continue their travels, vowing to one day come back with proof of their success. Those who fled to Alrugard did so without remorse, as the people they left to the stars were no more their brothers than Alrugard their home. Alrugard, however, decided to make sure that the humans were very aware of what awaited them. As the massive vessels descended from orbit, a blizzard wracked the landing areas with such force that the vessels crashed into the mountains, destroying their hope of hitting the ground running. With their technology all but destroyed humanity was on the verge of extinction. Alrugard had proven to be a cold unfeeling mistress, and now faced with the unfeeling hostile environment, and the remorseless native animal-life, humanity rushed to find a way to stay off the ground. Risking only short trips into the wastelands, the first hunters were born. Forced to become one with the planet, they made do with what they had, creating weapons out of what they killed, and eating whatever they could kill.

 

It was because of this that when the other humans had been able to convert their orbital colonies into floating cities, the hunters were already too far distant from the humans they had protected and fed. While the years may have passed, the animosity hasn't, keeping the hunters mostly on what has been referred to Great Hunts. The rest of humanity doesn't seem to care that the hunters spend more time on the surface, as when they do return, they bring large amounts of flesh. So, while both groups may be content with their tenuous situation, it couldn't last for long. Just before the last moon cycle of the second era of humanity, disaster struck. A beast had been awoken from humanity's attempts to gather fuel for their floating cities, and the devastation it had wrought spread for miles around. Word got around to the other colonies by the hunters who had seen the devastation, provoking an order from the governors of each city to kill the beast. So it was that the hunters were gathered, and a Great Hunt was rallied for the beast that killed the city of Galruvia. So it was that they hunted a creature whose only knowledge they had of it was what it could do. So it was that they hunted the Galruvian Horror...

 

Regions of Alrugard

The Equatorial Tundras

The Equatorial Tundras are the only place on Alrugard where humankind can sustain itself. Even then, the Colonies maintain constant movement, always keeping their floating cities far above the ground in the clouds. Because of the Hunters, the Colonists never have need to leave the floating cities, and as such rarely travel outside the confines of their home city. On the surface the Hunters learn to hunt the more docile game of the tundras, and make the trips to the city-ports. The Tundras are also home to the only known water-formation on the planet, as the old cartographer's maps are long gone. This water formation is a large lake that is mostly frozen for most of the year except for a single month. It is during this month that some of the hunters decide to fish the waters and bring the rare delicacies of seafood to the colonies. The Equatorial Tundras is also one of the only regions where bows and javelins can be used to any effect, due to the milder storms of the region.

 

The Northern Peaks

The Northern Peaks are the mountainous regions north of the Equatorial Tundras, extending all the way to the unknown regions of the Northern Pole. Among the mountains stalks the most deadly predators of Alrugard, from the mountain snow-leopard to the Grixis, a large alien beast more often the end of Hunters than killed by them. The explored area of the Northern Peaks is considerably less then even the Tundras, due to the raging blizzards of the mountains restricting travel severely.

 

The Southern Ice Fields

The Ice Fields of the Southern Pole is actually one large sheet of ice over what is believed to be an ocean over the southern pole. More dangerous than the myriad ice-predators is the wind-shear of the icy plains, many times reaching upwards 95mph with razored ice-rain. The only hope for those Hunters trapped upon the plains is to lay flat and wait out the ice-rains.

 

The Hunters

The Coalition of Hunters

On Alrugard the Hunters which stalk its surface can rarely ever be regarded as an organization of sorts. Very few hunts require more than one Hunter, and as such the Hunters typically hunt alone. In the Equatorial regions, though, there can occasionally be seen a gathering of Hunters to discuss the happenings of the world. These gatherings are called the Hunter's Moot, and never do they last long, nor gather more than a dozen at a time, for Alrugard is no place for lingering crowds. These Moots only convene when events happen which may threaten the Hunter's way of life, and require a decision to be made. Outside the Equatorial Tundras the Hunters revert to their solitary nature. Northern Hunters are those who hunt the vast mountain ranges of the Alrugardian Peaks, and they hunt the most dangerous creatures of the world. Southern Hunters are those who stalk the Ice Plains of the Southern Pole, and are more often lost to the intense cold than the predators.

 

The Hunter's Way

Though the Hunters seem to be a barbaric lot, they have a strict honor system, and can be said to be the only humans who truly appreciate the world they live upon. Indeed, they can be said to love Alrugard, though she is a harsh mistress and demands the most out of any Hunter. It is out of this devotion to Alrugard, that the first Hunters decreed that no weapon could ever be used that had not come from an animal they personally killed. No hunter was allowed to wear a pelt he or she did not slay, and no Hunter ate meat from any but their own kill. No Hunter was permitted to kill needlessly, that no matter what the circumstances, they must take an item of importance from the creature they slew, for to simply leave the creature as it lay without honoring it's spirit would be to anger Alrugard. Because of this many of the Hunters maintain shrines to the World-Spirit dotted amongst the wilds of Alrugard.

 

The Cycles of Day

Though the weather remains mostly constant, and has been adapted to by a large majority of Hunters, there is still the matter of Nightfall. In a land already evolved to kill the weakest, night becomes vastly more dangerous, with many of the most lethal and predatory creatures emerging after dusk. It is such that many Hunters take refuge well before night, as none dare risk being exposed at night. There is only one Hunter who has ever successfully hunted at night, the legendary Nightstalker of the Northern Peaks, a man with few peers if any.

 

Character Introductions:

As much as I LOOOOOOVE filling out sheets of rather generic questions with questionable generic answers, I like IC applications every now and then. Provide a suitable length IC post detailing your character attending a Moot, in this post you should address the following:

 

Appearance(If you choose to provide a picture, it cannot be anime.)

Equipment

Hunter's Way(How your character hunts, their preferred game, and limitations)

Personality

Motivation(Why they take up the quest to hunt the monster)

Age(No Hunter is under 17, children do not hunt.)

 

Now granted, I've set this up in a way that arguably looks like "Super-Mega-Death-Kill-Action*Snow Edition*" While there will be action oriented scenes, the whole roleplay is not to revolve about them. A good portion of the RP will be survival, and tracking to a degree.

 

 

Accepted Characters:

 

GM Character(s):

 

 

Legendary Hunters:

Although the Hunters can be a distrustful lot, and often times despise the company of a fellow Hunter, there those among them who have made a name for themselves. These Hunters are those who have accomplished either great kills, explored areas no-one else has, or simply lived through events no other should. The Player characters are assumed to be Legendary Hunters, as they would be the only ones either skilled or lucky enough to reach the Great Hunt. There are limits to your legends though, as some beasts exist only to kill, and some areas have not been explored for a reason.

 

Rules and Regs

This RP is to be understood as R rated for the potential violence and descriptive results that will ensue.

 

 

- God-modding is unacceptable under any circumstance, as is power-playing. Gary Stu characters fall under this.

- Activity is expected to be maintained at one IC post two weeks, unless prior notice has been given.

- Posting standards are Advanced(Literate), note that this does not mean that you must post ginormous blocks of text, but that a quality is expected of you. The quality I am looking for is at least two paragraphs of decent length, and with character development.

- Three strike system. If you break a rule three times, or a combination of rules, you are removed from the RP.

- Most importantly, it's a game. Let's treat it as such and not be rude to each-other. Games are fun when everyone is having fun together, but if even one person is not having fun, then no one is having fun.

Edited July 30, 2013 by Alfhedil

[soupnazi]

Hi! I'm soupnazi and I'll be doing some critique on your roleplay. Or a critique, as it is.

 

The life of a hunter is rough, everyday our life is in danger, be it the landscape of the creatures which call it home.

 

The first comma should be a colon; "of" should be "or".

[Alfhedil]

Hi! I'm soupnazi and I'll be doing some critique on your roleplay. Or a critique, as it is.

 

 

 

The first comma should be a colon; "of" should be "or".

Edited it accordingly, as well as added a new section under "Hunter's Way". Also clarified as to where this RP would be going, and further clarified the type of content by a maturity rating.

[soupnazi]

Under what definition do you mean the roleplay is rated R? This forum as a whole is rated PG-13 and roleplays must follow this rule just like any other thread.

[Alfhedil]

Under what definition do you mean the roleplay is rated R? This forum as a whole is rated PG-13 and roleplays must follow this rule just like any other thread.

Through the violence and survival/horror aspect of the RP in general. Sexual content is still an absolute no, it's too cold for that =P

[soupnazi]

Alright, as long as you keep things in line with the forum's rules, you're good. Approved.

[Alfhedil]

Alright, as long as you keep things in line with the forum's rules, you're good. Approved.

Aye aye, Captain.

 

And with that, the RP is open to applications. Looking to get at least four people to begin, though more is always welcome.

[Mistress of Whispers]

And with that, the RP is open to applications. Looking to get at least four people to begin, though more is always welcome.

This sounds like a great setting! Hopefully more people will sign up and we can get started!

[Elacular]

The hunter, Varnil, looked out over the equatorial tundras, a sigh hissing through her fur mask as a puff of steam. It had been some time since she last came down from the norther peaks. About seven years, she supposed. Then she had just been a seventeen year old girl with blond hair, blue eyes and no idea what she was getting into. None of that really mattered now though, since she never went anywhere without her pelts. The only part of her body that could even be glimpsed under all the patchwork furs were her eyes, and even those were covered by a loose-woven cloth mask that guarded them from the sun and wind.

 

Through the years, that little girl had been lost to the snows and left Varnil in her place. She had grown much stronger, though she was still small by hunter standards. On her back she carried two large femurs, each from a monstrously huge creature. The ends of each had been cut off and sharpened, and she would jab them into her foes. They were two short to be proper pikes, but she wouldn't call them knives or needles either. The closest thing, she supposed, was a spear.

 

Her way was not what most hunters would call honorable, but she typically couldn't find it within herself to care about their opinions. With all her white furs wrapped around her, she would hide herself in the snow, or in caves. Then, when a beast passed her by, she would leap out and stab them with her spears, tearing into their vitals before they knew what had happened. Her style suited the larger, less intelligent animals best, but she preferred not to approach those she knew were thoughtful and smart. Doing so in her early days had earned her no small number of scars.

 

As she approached the gathered hunters, she wondered if she remembered how to speak. It had been so long since she had ever had any reason to. She opened her mouth, a bit unsure as the other hunters glanced at her. "Varnil." Her voice was lower and hoarser than she remembered, but it was reassuring to see it still worked. "Tell me about the beast."

 

As the others explained the rumors they had heard, her mind began to wander. She knew for a fact that she should have forgotten the world above as soon as she became a hunter. And she'd done a fair job of it, even managing to forget the names of her siblings and which floating city she had come from. However, one person had never truly left her mind. A girl her own age. Or at least, she was when Varnil left. Hunting had turned her into something of an old woman. The two had experienced...something. Precisely what, Varnil was unsure of, but that girl was the reason she had become a hunter. She needed to get away from her. But at the same time, she needed to protect her. Alrugard seemed like the only place that would have her.

 

But now with this monster, she didn't even know if that girl was alive. Even so. It was a threat. But if defeated, she assumed that it would become a feast for many. Even if it didn't though, she felt that she must be a part of this hunt. So as the other hunters spoke, she listened, quietly taking it all in.

[Mistress of Whispers]

Lena

 

The moot falls silent as a woman in her mid-twenties approaches the fire. Like any hunter, she wears a tunic, breeches and boots made of soft fur and leather. She carries no adornments; no jewelry or other trophies made of bone and teeth to mark her kills. Nevertheless, her long fur cloak, the strands of pure white hair amidst black tangles and blue face-paint honoring the gods of ice, wind and death, make her identity known. She is Lena, huntress of the Northern Peaks. The moot is silent, eager to see if she might share a story, but she does not speak and, eventually, conversation resumes.

 

Lena does not attend moots often, instead preferring the solitude and hardship of the ice, but stories about the Great Hunt have drawn her out. She does not hunt for glory or even for survival; she hunts because she must. Her mother, a copper-haired shaman, coupled with Lena’s hunter father because she had foreseen that a great huntress would be born of the union, a child who would carry a spark of Alrugard herself. Mad as the shaman was, she sent Lena out into the ice to 'prepare' for this destiny from a very young age – perhaps too young, as frostbite-scars attest, but the child did live and here we are. Lena does not question her path, nor does she relish in it. She simply accepts and hunts and, in this, lies her greatness for it creates a single-minded focus on her task that allows her to prosper where others fail.

 

The huntress shifts position to reach for warm wine and the long coat falls open to reveal two bone blades. The weapons are sinuously curved, razor-sharp and decorated with beautiful and elaborate carvings of life on Algurad. They are much smaller than a spear or even a sword, forcing Lena to get up close to her prey, but she prefers it this way. She does not fear death; if Algurad one day decides that prey should slay huntress instead, then it was meant to be. And, despite their relatively short size, Lena is more than proficient with them and has killed many larger predators with her knives.

 

The moot continues still, but Lena already rises. She is silent like death itself and even the man beside her does not register the movement at first. The huntress claims that the the Ice and the Air speak to her; tell her where to set down her feet so she is not heard, how to move so she is not seen and, above all, where to go so she finds her prey. No one knows the truth of this belief; perhaps it is a gift from her shaman mother, or maybe she really does carry a spark of Algurad inside her. Or maybe, she is simply mad. Lena does not speak about it and no one has ever dared to ask, but if one thing is true, it’s that she has never lost her prey and is not noticed unless she wants to be.

 

Walking out of the light of the campfire, she pauses to speak and smile to a young child. She has a soft spot for children, this silent killer. The child smiles in return, either unaware or not perturbed by her reputation. After the conversation, hushed and private, Lena continues and lets out a soft whistle. In the dark, a she-wolf howls in answer; found and raised by Lena as a cub, the large and powerful wolf is her only true companion in this cold, white world. Satisfied that her companion is still there, Lena seeks a place of solitude at a fire of her own and sinks deep into her thoughts, staring out into the dark.