WELCOME TO SHATTERED EARTH

Name
Email
Subject
Comment *
File	Select/drop/paste files here
* = required field	[▶ Show post options & limits] Confused? See the FAQ.

File: 1415987095946.jpg (16.48 KB, 457x256, 457:256, Shattered.jpg)

WELCOME TO SHATTERED EARTH ☠ 11/14/14 (Fri) 17:44:56 78a579 No.99

Many years ago the core of the planet changed causing the metal rich earth to break apart into floating chunks. From the holes left, a miasma spilled out covering the world bellow. Life continued and spread across theses new landmasses. People found ways to travel across to each other. However resources are scarce and people always want what others have.

The premise is simple. Like most roleplays, you are a single person. However, there is no sheet, no expectations, no limits. All the lore, factions, world will be built in topic.

Rules:

- Don't be an asshole (You know what being an asshole means)

- Whoever posts first takes precedence in terms of lore and world building.

- Actions against other players will be decide by d100 roll per action the player with the highest number wins that action.

- Have some indication of OOC and IC.

Post last edited at 08/29/15 (Sat) 16:33:34

☠ 11/17/14 (Mon) 22:31:08 c1c020 No.100

File: 1416263467459.gif (1.78 MB, 300x242, 150:121, Check_em_gif.gif)

Alvein stared over the edge of Grey Autumn - the little island his family had been living on for centuries - in the distance he could see the large airships of the Euro-African Federation. He'd been waiting for those since a long time, to take his chance and leave the belt of "Small Floaters", as the kind of island he lived on was called, and make his way towards the larger masses of land in the west. He knew he would have to become a worker on one of the airships but that was truly a small price to pay.

(I dunno. Just claiming dubs and see if anyone will continue)

☠ 11/21/14 (Fri) 04:41:11 ad6f86 No.101

File: 1416544870716.jpg (62.97 KB, 600x402, 100:67, airship.jpg)

With a sigh, Captain Mwenye closed the small hand-held telescope in his hands. More rural bumpkins, he thought to himself. He did have to give them credit, though, as the young men raised on tiny islands such as these were hardy through years of manual labor. Perhaps more hands for the Federation ships? The captain squinted behind his dark pince-nez glasses, furrowing the brow of his dark, weathered face. He turned back to the shiphands, barking a few orders to land on the nearest island. Coincidentally, this happened to be Grey Autumn.