VIVO OBSCURAS

[Raptorian]

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Spoiler: Music

EUROPE, 1837

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Five years ago, a plague swept across Western Europe, enveloping every nation in a deadly miasma. Many rural villages were left to rot, with only rich urban lands being able to afford the medicines and hygienic policies necessary to stay death's hand. One particular principality fell especially victim to the sickness, and despite its pleading for aid, no one would come to alleviate their woes. That was until the arrival of a strange Doctor, claiming to carry with them a miraculous cure-all. Almost immediately, the Prince would invite the Doctor to his manor, and was eager to see them prove themselves. To the shock of all, the Doctor performed a blood transfusion on a sickened aristocrat, causing the man's illness to vanish over night. Seeking to finally rid his lands of the sickness, the Prince paid out a large sum so that the Doctor would administer their cure to every subject who required it. As if the work of the divine, the plague had vanished over night, and the people showered the Doctor with gifts and praise. Rewarding them for their labor, the Prince granted them a lake-side estate deep in the forests.


For five years, the Doctor remained sequestered away in their home, and despite the pleading of thankful aristocrats, the Doctor refused all guests. Thanks to the cure, the principality had fully recovered in a manner of a year. Without the economic strain of managing a blight they swiftly pulled ahead of their neighbors. Now an emerging land of esteem, the future of the principality had looked bright. That was until unholy disaster struck. Former victims of the plague burst forth from their flesh, twisting into horrors beyond the realm of God and bearing down upon the people of the land with fang and claw. The military was slow to respond, with many of their own ranks turning into vile monsters of their own right. Terrified by the apocalypse unfolding outside of his gates, and confounded by the military's inability to control the situation, the Prince declared a state of absolute emergency. In place of governance and class was simply a body of people cowering together for the sake of survival. With the last of the survivors gathering in the Prince's manor, a raven delivered a shocking letter. A message from the Doctor. The Prince gathered his soldiers and courtiers, all who were willing, and set off through the night to answer the Doctor's summons.

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ROLES
The Doctor - (0/1)
Owner of the estate, bringer of the cure, and keeper of the truth. This role carries heavy lore implications, and we encourage you to reach out to _raptorian on discord if interested.


The Prince - (0/1)
Ruler of the principality, guide of the survivors. This role emphasizes leadership. Will you be a tyrant or virtuous light in the dark?


The Sergeant - (0/1)
The last bastion of military dignity. You've defended the Prince from assassins, and have ordered executions in the sake of quarantines. This role emphasizes secondary leadership, though holds great influence.


The Soldiers - (0/5)
Soldiers of the principality. Some veterans, some conscripts. Can you burn away the dark?


The Rabble - (0/ထ)
Any manner of orderlies, aristocrats, and peasants. The Prince levied an open invitation to those that would join him in seeking the truth, knowing that it would be a dangerous journey. If nothing else, survive. Certain members of this class may be chosen for special roles depending on quality of roleplay and applications.

Spoiler: Application Format

Section One (OOC):

Steam Name:

Steam ID:

Discord Name:

Timezone:

Section Two (IC):

Character Name:

Role:

Backstory:

 

[ShadoWiz4rd]

 

[Marco]

Section One (OOC):

Steam Name:

Marco

Steam ID:

STEAM_0:0:39958603

Discord Name:

Marco.7184

Timezone:

GMT/UTC 0:00
(United Kingdom)

Section Two (IC):

Character Name:






Role:

The Sergeant

Backstory​

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A stern shout echoes throughout the estate, a thick metal gate closes, some trying to climb through the gaps before it closes. Tormented screams echo across the estate as their blood drips onto the cobblestone floor. An endless torrent of refugees crash into the fenced gate, Dirt, spit, vomit and blood covering their visage. They claw at the metal fence, held together by thick iron bars that strain and bend under the pressing force of thousands of men, women and children. Infants are thrown over , desperate mothers and fathers, black contusions covering their face pleading for their safety. I order them to ignore them. Men scream as they climb over the fence, met with a stake built up from the ground. It wasn't meant for him, their cries of pain and blood turning the yard into a living hell. The chaotic rush for the walls of the estate builds, screams of death and torment slowly getting louder and louder. I shout to my men, feeling the blood in my throat build from strain. My face grims as I overlook the gates, desperate people, monsters hiding among them. I order them to present their battered and stained smoothbore muskets as a black, tar-like abomination, steam rising from it's monsterous towering form, rises over the sea of refugees. One of the conscripts looks at the towering ten foot monster, he drops his gun and runs, I catch him as I swing my sabre at his neck, cutting through it until it reaches the spine. Blood spatters over my face and uniform as his corpse slumps down to the ground, the man grasping at his throat as he tries to breathe. I glance down at the man, my regret concealed by military discipline. I bring down the sabre to spare him the misery, turning to look at the Conscripts, then to my aides.


My voice shouts desperately amongst the line of men, they heed my command. I raise my arm as the beast crushes the refugees and civilians alike, blood and bone gushing and breaking under it's terrible weight. It's figure slowly growing larger and larger as it gets closer at an alarming rate, the tar-like crust on its figure becoming more human, twisted faces of terror and fear plastered onto its skin, an amalgamation of terror. I swing my arm down, and an unsynchronised volley of bullets hit both man and monster alike. I order them to reload. The sickening stench of iron fills the air as blood spills. They finish reloading, aiming their weapons and firing once more, and the beast collapses. I drag the corpse of the man I killed, the man who ran. Tossing it into a burning pile of corpses, friends, human and abomination alike. I order them to not let anyone else through at any cost.

Rushing back into the mansion, slamming the door behind me, the screams muffled, and quieting now.
My eyes water, immediately dried off with my glove stained red. I tell myself that it is what I must do, to protect my family and our legacy, even if it costs a sea of blood.​

 

[Marco]

Where are the applications?