Miniry, a shining new free city, notable for its welcoming atmosphere and strategic location. Situated in a key valley, required for trading between three bordering nations. Surrounded by dense forests to the west, a sprawling lagoon to the east, and mountains to the north and southwest. Compared to neighbouring cities and towns, Miniry is the only one that both does not take part in the slave trade as well as allows all races and backgrounds.
However, a free city such as this one is not without its dangers. The success of Miniry as a free city is in constant peril. Monsters, intrigue, an opening to the Underdark, Miniry is constantly at risk.
The three main guilds of Miniry are keeping various problems at bay. These guilds are: The Rising Dawn; a guild known for their inclusion and readiness to protect the town. The Golden Scales; a powerful guild with a reputation for success and wealth. The Seven Daggers; a guild known for its brutal tactics and thirst for power.
Word has reached your ears that Miniry is in need of more adventurers. Protect the town, solve the city’s problems, compete with the other guilds in town and make friends along the way. Choose which guild to join, or decide to fly solo! Missions will be free to all who wish to help, but joining a guild will grant you access to their facilities and room and board for free.
Protect the town, get free room and board... sounds easy right? Help solve the city's problems, compete with the two other guilds in town, and of course, go on an adventure or two! Rumor has it an opening to the Underdark where all manner of fiends might find their way onto the surface. The success of Miniry as a free city is in constant peril.
✧ Low tech, high fantasy theme, all levels welcome!
✧ Discord in combination with Roll20, DnD 5th Edition
✧ PBP based roleplay w/ Arvae & Tupperbox
✧ West Marches / living world style
✧ 18+ and LGBTQ Friendly
✧ One combat event, held twice weekly to cater to different time zones
✧ Pop-up combats scattered throughout, dependent on what players do
If interested in joining, please fill out the form below:
✧ Discord Username
✧ Age
✧ Time-zone
✧ Experience Level
✧ Give a RP sample in third person. Use the prompt below or get creative! You and some guildmates are having drinks at an inn. Boom! Suddenly, a large dark figure opens the door and starts demanding everyone leave...
Thanks for reading, and we hope to see you in our little town! If interested, please post your form below or DM me directly on Reddit or Discord (Amber#7065)
✧ Experience Level: Played partial campaign IRL, DMd for a dozen or so family adventures, current DM for PBP with family.
✧ You and some guildmates are having drinks at an inn. Boom! Suddenly, a large dark figure opens the door and starts demanding everyone leave...
Torrin strides over to the foreboding figure and sets a large scaled hand upon the figures shoulder and loudly proclaims that he should explain himself quickly because his oath only demands that he give everyone a chance to change their ways before violence is used to enforce peace. The room settles and quiets as the jostling of swords, daggers, and spell components are brought to the ready.
✧ Discord Username: Vos#0076 ✧ Age: Wise but not Ancient ✧ Time-zone: PST ✧ Experience Level: Advanced ✧ RP sample:
The walk to the starport takes another ten minutes or so. As you board, you hear a crisp male voice through the ship's internal overhead speakers. In a seemingly professional and practiced cadence, not unlike a commercial transport pilot would have, you are greeted. "Welcome to the 'Bantha Poodoo', I am Korvo and I will be your pilot for this Hutt-sanctioned hit. As you enter you will notice this mission is just a huge prank by Alema to see which of us will die from rust poisoning first. Also, who in their right mind would fly around Hutt space in a ship with no real weapons to speak of? As you board, please make use of our fine *only lavatory* and *total lack of privacy in this tiny can*. Don't touch my stuff here in the cockpit, and please be advised that I do snore. Otherwise, all pre-flight safety checks have been performed and we have clearance from the tower to depart anytime. For those of you manning stations, please do so when you are ready to get underway." You hear what sounds like a [whatever the star wars equivalent of a cigarette is] being lit, then a deep sigh. "That is all." The overhead speakers go silent.
Moments later in that same adventure:
Korvo's right eyebrow raises when Fayva mentions being ferried around. "So, you were a politician then? When I was in the service I did a number of security escort gigs for politicians. I can totally picture you as one." And then, as if realizing how that would sound if he said it to anyone he knew. "Of course, I don't mean that in a bad way - not like a politician politician, but you know, one of the nice ones. Like, one of the low-ranking ones that haven't been totally corrupted by power yet" He scratches his head and looks at the main helm controls for a moment, desperately wanting to change the subject. "Anyways, yeah, feel free to come by whenever I'm up here. I'm happy to give you the stick anytime." His eyes go wide as soon as he said it. "Uh, the cockpit controls are referred to as the stick... Civilian lingo is still a bit unnatural for me."
Then, a little later:
Korvo's demeanor shifts again. As he begins to talk to Fayva, he becomes serious, more focused. Any awkwardness or thoughtlessness immediately replaced by methodical training. All business. "Alright, the first and most important lesson I learned in combat flight training was dubbed "tactical communications" by my flight instructors. Who to tell what to, and when. In controlled space, a busy starport sky, or a warzone, it is absolutely imperative to coordinate with the control towers and other craft. However, in a place like this, or our destination, your ship is another person's play thing - potentially. And any honest information you give can be sold to dubious third-parties. You might recall that when you all boarded I announced we had already been cleared to takeoff. Clearance comes in stages. Firstly, flight scheduling is done well in advance of traveling, including your craft information, transceiver information, origin, cargo, crew manifest, destination, and estimated travel time. All of that is to be submitted to local and national authorities. We skipped that. Secondly, pre-flight checks need to be coordinated with the local tower. We did that and they granted us a kind of preliminary clearance. However, thirdly, you are supposed to coordinate with the tower as you taxi and leave. We are not doing that either. Not coordinating with the tower can be dangerous if they skies are crowded, which these aren't, and if planetary security forces are present, which they aren't." Korvo begins pointing out the helm control features, how the pre-flight check set a number of those systems to a "ready standby" status, and which buttons, switches, pedals, and dials need to be interacted with next. As he explains the controls he engages the flight systems and the ship's flight and navigation systems come to life. "Now we go."
✧ Experience Level: Light In Person, Moderate to Experienced in online PBP plays on forums
✧Role Playing Sample
Zedair Daardendarian, a mouthful to say aloud for sure, but his name invokes a memory of an emerald green scaled giant of a Dragonborn and a strong spear thrust. Zedair chuckles softly at his companions quip about a kobold and the mother of another of the guildmates, their roaring thunderous laughter causing many an eye to turn towards their table. Zedair's spear lays on the floor beside him, daggers strapped against his calf and his tail swaying back and forth in approval as he sits on the only stool at the table. While many would consider this to be a rather rumbuckous group, Zedair felt at home and nearly at peace as he set his spiced ale down and shut his eyes in a moment of appreciation of his life.
Crack.
Zedair's eyes snapped open and hands went low towards his spear at the sudden sound. He narrowed the slits of his sunflower yellow eyes as he sized up the humongous cloaked individual who boomed out a command.
"Leave. Everyone. Now."
His tone of voice made those in his immediate vicinity rush away and out the door. The bartender and staff looked uneasy, more so than when the table had ordered another round. He looked at his table who all gave a half-cocked and puzzled look towards Zedair. While he didn't always enjoy being the enforcer and largest amongst his group, he was always there to be the steady backbone of his comrades.
"My friend you shouldn't make such demands in Miniry." He placed his spear on the table and stood tall, towering above everyone at his 6'6'' stature and folded his arms across his chest, leather creaking underneath his stance. "This can be a dangerous place for those who disturb the peace... Well... Those who disturb the peace violently I should say, right comrades?
The large figure shrugged the cloaked from their head and shoulders and rested both hands on hammers that looked too massive to be held by even himself with one hand, and this monstrosity was carrying one in each hand as though they were paper. He watched his comrades step up and back away from the table slowly, Tabbard quickly running forward and grabbing his tankard with a sheepish grin and wink.
Zedair sighed but smiled, smacking the base of his spear and flinging it up into both hands, a golden and purple cloth swinging from the center of the spear. "Please turn around, I really do enjoy this place and I wish to keep blood from spilling as much as possible."
The now uncloaked figured started forward, smashing the table to the side, leaving food and glass strewn across the floor.
Zedair popped his neck to the left and then the right, stepped back and quietly spoke aloud to himself, "How wasteful.."
A flash of gold, silver, and purple was seen by the patrons, the only sound was a loud Spppplsh as something splattered against the hanging lanterns, coating the room with a chilling reddish hue. A loud THUD was heard as the humongous man fell over on his back, hammers crashing to the flooring as Zedair bent over and picked up the remains of his tankard, a drop of blood falling from his snout into it, shrugging he took a sip.
"I did warn him... Tabbard go get a mop.."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Viktor Dreamweaver - Cleric - "I'm the stuff of nightmares kid."
Tyril Strongbones - Ranger- "I prick and poke until I get what I need... Whether it be supple flesh or cold steel"
Zedair Daardendarian- Fighter- "You were not a challenge. How unfortunate for you."
DM. Player. Teacher. Husband. Cat owner. Dog Lover
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𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐫𝐲…
Miniry, a shining new free city, notable for its welcoming atmosphere and strategic location. Situated in a key valley, required for trading between three bordering nations. Surrounded by dense forests to the west, a sprawling lagoon to the east, and mountains to the north and southwest. Compared to neighbouring cities and towns, Miniry is the only one that both does not take part in the slave trade as well as allows all races and backgrounds.
However, a free city such as this one is not without its dangers. The success of Miniry as a free city is in constant peril. Monsters, intrigue, an opening to the Underdark, Miniry is constantly at risk.
The three main guilds of Miniry are keeping various problems at bay. These guilds are: The Rising Dawn; a guild known for their inclusion and readiness to protect the town. The Golden Scales; a powerful guild with a reputation for success and wealth. The Seven Daggers; a guild known for its brutal tactics and thirst for power.
Word has reached your ears that Miniry is in need of more adventurers. Protect the town, solve the city’s problems, compete with the other guilds in town and make friends along the way. Choose which guild to join, or decide to fly solo! Missions will be free to all who wish to help, but joining a guild will grant you access to their facilities and room and board for free.
Protect the town, get free room and board... sounds easy right? Help solve the city's problems, compete with the two other guilds in town, and of course, go on an adventure or two! Rumor has it an opening to the Underdark where all manner of fiends might find their way onto the surface. The success of Miniry as a free city is in constant peril.
✧ Low tech, high fantasy theme, all levels welcome!
✧ Discord in combination with Roll20, DnD 5th Edition
✧ PBP based roleplay w/ Arvae & Tupperbox
✧ West Marches / living world style
✧ 18+ and LGBTQ Friendly
✧ One combat event, held twice weekly to cater to different time zones
✧ Pop-up combats scattered throughout, dependent on what players do
If interested in joining, please fill out the form below:
✧ Discord Username
✧ Age
✧ Time-zone
✧ Experience Level
✧ Give a RP sample in third person. Use the prompt below or get creative! You and some guildmates are having drinks at an inn. Boom! Suddenly, a large dark figure opens the door and starts demanding everyone leave...
Thanks for reading, and we hope to see you in our little town! If interested, please post your form below or DM me directly on Reddit or Discord (Amber#7065)
✧ Discord Username: [TNO]Marlenator#1670
✧ Age: 44
✧ Time-zone: Arizona MST (Never change our clocks for Daylight Savings)
✧ Experience Level: Played partial campaign IRL, DMd for a dozen or so family adventures, current DM for PBP with family.
✧ You and some guildmates are having drinks at an inn. Boom! Suddenly, a large dark figure opens the door and starts demanding everyone leave...
Torrin strides over to the foreboding figure and sets a large scaled hand upon the figures shoulder and loudly proclaims that he should explain himself quickly because his oath only demands that he give everyone a chance to change their ways before violence is used to enforce peace. The room settles and quiets as the jostling of swords, daggers, and spell components are brought to the ready.
✧ Discord Username: Vos#0076
✧ Age: Wise but not Ancient
✧ Time-zone: PST
✧ Experience Level: Advanced
✧ RP sample:
The walk to the starport takes another ten minutes or so. As you board, you hear a crisp male voice through the ship's internal overhead speakers. In a seemingly professional and practiced cadence, not unlike a commercial transport pilot would have, you are greeted. "Welcome to the 'Bantha Poodoo', I am Korvo and I will be your pilot for this Hutt-sanctioned hit. As you enter you will notice this mission is just a huge prank by Alema to see which of us will die from rust poisoning first. Also, who in their right mind would fly around Hutt space in a ship with no real weapons to speak of? As you board, please make use of our fine *only lavatory* and *total lack of privacy in this tiny can*. Don't touch my stuff here in the cockpit, and please be advised that I do snore. Otherwise, all pre-flight safety checks have been performed and we have clearance from the tower to depart anytime. For those of you manning stations, please do so when you are ready to get underway." You hear what sounds like a [whatever the star wars equivalent of a cigarette is] being lit, then a deep sigh. "That is all." The overhead speakers go silent.
Moments later in that same adventure:
Korvo's right eyebrow raises when Fayva mentions being ferried around. "So, you were a politician then? When I was in the service I did a number of security escort gigs for politicians. I can totally picture you as one." And then, as if realizing how that would sound if he said it to anyone he knew. "Of course, I don't mean that in a bad way - not like a politician politician, but you know, one of the nice ones. Like, one of the low-ranking ones that haven't been totally corrupted by power yet" He scratches his head and looks at the main helm controls for a moment, desperately wanting to change the subject. "Anyways, yeah, feel free to come by whenever I'm up here. I'm happy to give you the stick anytime." His eyes go wide as soon as he said it. "Uh, the cockpit controls are referred to as the stick... Civilian lingo is still a bit unnatural for me."
Then, a little later:
Korvo's demeanor shifts again. As he begins to talk to Fayva, he becomes serious, more focused. Any awkwardness or thoughtlessness immediately replaced by methodical training. All business. "Alright, the first and most important lesson I learned in combat flight training was dubbed "tactical communications" by my flight instructors. Who to tell what to, and when. In controlled space, a busy starport sky, or a warzone, it is absolutely imperative to coordinate with the control towers and other craft. However, in a place like this, or our destination, your ship is another person's play thing - potentially. And any honest information you give can be sold to dubious third-parties. You might recall that when you all boarded I announced we had already been cleared to takeoff. Clearance comes in stages. Firstly, flight scheduling is done well in advance of traveling, including your craft information, transceiver information, origin, cargo, crew manifest, destination, and estimated travel time. All of that is to be submitted to local and national authorities. We skipped that. Secondly, pre-flight checks need to be coordinated with the local tower. We did that and they granted us a kind of preliminary clearance. However, thirdly, you are supposed to coordinate with the tower as you taxi and leave. We are not doing that either. Not coordinating with the tower can be dangerous if they skies are crowded, which these aren't, and if planetary security forces are present, which they aren't." Korvo begins pointing out the helm control features, how the pre-flight check set a number of those systems to a "ready standby" status, and which buttons, switches, pedals, and dials need to be interacted with next. As he explains the controls he engages the flight systems and the ship's flight and navigation systems come to life. "Now we go."
✧ Discord Username: Shawhaw#2305
✧ Age: 31
✧ Time-zone: EST
✧ Experience Level: Light In Person, Moderate to Experienced in online PBP plays on forums
✧Role Playing Sample
Zedair Daardendarian, a mouthful to say aloud for sure, but his name invokes a memory of an emerald green scaled giant of a Dragonborn and a strong spear thrust. Zedair chuckles softly at his companions quip about a kobold and the mother of another of the guildmates, their roaring thunderous laughter causing many an eye to turn towards their table. Zedair's spear lays on the floor beside him, daggers strapped against his calf and his tail swaying back and forth in approval as he sits on the only stool at the table. While many would consider this to be a rather rumbuckous group, Zedair felt at home and nearly at peace as he set his spiced ale down and shut his eyes in a moment of appreciation of his life.
Crack.
Zedair's eyes snapped open and hands went low towards his spear at the sudden sound. He narrowed the slits of his sunflower yellow eyes as he sized up the humongous cloaked individual who boomed out a command.
"Leave. Everyone. Now."
His tone of voice made those in his immediate vicinity rush away and out the door. The bartender and staff looked uneasy, more so than when the table had ordered another round. He looked at his table who all gave a half-cocked and puzzled look towards Zedair. While he didn't always enjoy being the enforcer and largest amongst his group, he was always there to be the steady backbone of his comrades.
"My friend you shouldn't make such demands in Miniry." He placed his spear on the table and stood tall, towering above everyone at his 6'6'' stature and folded his arms across his chest, leather creaking underneath his stance. "This can be a dangerous place for those who disturb the peace... Well... Those who disturb the peace violently I should say, right comrades?
The large figure shrugged the cloaked from their head and shoulders and rested both hands on hammers that looked too massive to be held by even himself with one hand, and this monstrosity was carrying one in each hand as though they were paper. He watched his comrades step up and back away from the table slowly, Tabbard quickly running forward and grabbing his tankard with a sheepish grin and wink.
Zedair sighed but smiled, smacking the base of his spear and flinging it up into both hands, a golden and purple cloth swinging from the center of the spear. "Please turn around, I really do enjoy this place and I wish to keep blood from spilling as much as possible."
The now uncloaked figured started forward, smashing the table to the side, leaving food and glass strewn across the floor.
Zedair popped his neck to the left and then the right, stepped back and quietly spoke aloud to himself, "How wasteful.."
A flash of gold, silver, and purple was seen by the patrons, the only sound was a loud Spppplsh as something splattered against the hanging lanterns, coating the room with a chilling reddish hue. A loud THUD was heard as the humongous man fell over on his back, hammers crashing to the flooring as Zedair bent over and picked up the remains of his tankard, a drop of blood falling from his snout into it, shrugging he took a sip.
"I did warn him... Tabbard go get a mop.."
Viktor Dreamweaver - Cleric - "I'm the stuff of nightmares kid."
Tyril Strongbones - Ranger- "I prick and poke until I get what I need... Whether it be supple flesh or cold steel"
Zedair Daardendarian- Fighter- "You were not a challenge. How unfortunate for you."
DM. Player. Teacher. Husband. Cat owner. Dog Lover