Battleworld

Battleworld

The planet Eristes, better known as Battleworld, is the sole inhabited planet in a star system on the very edge of the Milky Way galaxy. It is unknown on Earth, but rather infamous among most space-faring civilizations. Technically existing within Imperium space, the Imperium forces have largely ignored it, as it contains no valuable resources and is of little strategic value.

Due to this rather dubious distinction, the planet has become a haven for intergalactic pirates, smugglers, slavers, and other unsavory types looking to lay low or otherwise disappear for a length of time; most law-abiding societies are unwilling to send military or police forces into Imperium territory, and risk inciting retaliation. Because of this, while a fugitive on Battleworld may need to keep a wary eye out for bounty hunters or undercover agents of whatever institution they’ve run afoul of, there is little to fear from anything resembling conventional law-enforcement.

As a natural side effect of this, Battleworld is not a particularly safe place to visit. The sprawling cities that have steadily grown without any thought to planning or long-term development tend to be run by gangs, crime syndicates, and the like. Violence is common, and depraved practices that would be quickly suppressed by outraged societies elsewhere in the galaxy are openly practiced. Virtually anything can be bought or sold here, provided you can make the right connections and not be robbed of whatever you intended to trade with.

Outside of the ramshackle slums that randomly dot the planet’s surface is a largely unexplored alien jungle. Predatory carnivores (of both the flora and fauna variety) prowling through the dense vegetation, deceptively calm pools of neurotoxic water, and rapid and unpredictable shifts in weather patterns make attempting to travel between cities on the ground all but impossible. Any number of down-on-their-luck spacers make a temporary living by shuttling travelers about the planet for those not wishing to come to a messy end in the wilderness.

However, it is not the cutthroat towns or the deadly jungles that have earned Battleworld its name. Under the direction of Zedracus the Inevitable, Eristes’ moon has been converted into a massive holographic facility, covered with arenas capable of replicating any conceivable environment. These arenas are the settings for the gladiatorial battles which give Battleworld its accurate, if not particularly subtle moniker.

Security here is as oppressive as it is lax on the planet below. Zedracus’ personal forces ensure a strict rule of law, and ensure that all combat occurs only within the arenas. Professional fighters, mercenaries looking to impress potential employers, and enemies of the Inevitable One sentenced to bleed for his amusement make up the majority of the combatants, although anyone who expresses sufficient interest and ability can participate in events that range from traditional one-on-one duels to mass melees and deadly obstacle courses. Warriors that catch Zedracus’ eye may well be invited to join his personal security detail.

Rules

• Anyone can come and go as they please on the planet itself, provided they have knowledge of the planet’s existence and a means of traveling there.

• There’s nothing much in the way of laws in the planet’s many cities. Causing too many problems or too much destruction will likely bring a character to the attention of one of the many criminal organizations invested in maintaining the status quo, however.

• The moon is slightly more restrictive; Imperium forces and registered combatants are permitted to carry weaponry, but observers and other guests must leave any and all weapons in their ships (all visitors are subject to scanning before leaving their hangar).

• The majority of the security forces employed by Zedracus are Grizzlons. They’re not especially bright, but they are strong fighters, and don’t require much provocation to use violence. If your character is going to cause trouble, make sure you sell their abilities.

• No special permission is required to take part in a gladiatorial battle; all you need to do is find someone to fight with and go at it! Conversely, just showing what your character can do in solo posts is also perfectly fine; the holographic facilities can create practically any environment and can even simulate any kind of opponent that isn’t available from the moon’s stock of fighters.

• Descriptions of the planet’s cities and landscapes have been left deliberately broad and vague to allow for creative development; feel free to detail neighborhoods, NPCs, and alien creatures that suit your RPs.

• Have fun!

slow clap

Woahhh this is really cool. :P

@mastermouse: @mercy_: Thank you! :D

:o

I wanna make an alien character now...

Atrocity will probs drop by.

@urgarox: @valerie_huntington: Both of these would be awesome outcomes. ;)

I so want to be here ;~;

Awesome :-)

Awesome :D

@pyrogram: @lady_liberty: @warsman: Thank you! :D

Well, guess I didn't get the message until now, but

I love it!

can't wait to try out character update

@schlampe: Thanks! Looking forward to it! >:)

@strongarm: Sweet.

Nice :)

Oh yeah.
I think I'm gonna do a thing here tomorrow. :P

slowclapawesomesweetsweetawesomenicesweet!

The Betrayer of Delos reclined on an opulent throne overlooking one of the many holographic arenas of Eristes’ moon. He was clad in ornate armor, obviously designed more to impress than to provide any practical combat benefits; after all, his durability rendered most other forms of physical defense utterly superfluous. Similarly, he was enjoying a glass of a potent vintage from a planet that was not even located in the same galaxy, not out of any need for sustenance, but merely because he enjoyed the experience, as well as the message it sent: he was the ruler of this world, and all that he desired was his for the taking, practicality notwithstanding.

His appreciative gaze was fixed on the floor of the arena beneath him, where two humanoid gladiators were facing off against some alien creature that appeared to be composed of pure muscle and teeth. His master of ceremonies had dutifully introduced both the fighters and the creature, but such information had already been dismissed from Zedracus’ mind as inconsequential. These combatants were skilled, certainly, but not to the degree that he entertained any thoughts of recruiting them into his own retinue.

He rose, applauding lightly, as the coordinated attacks of the two gladiators finally brought down their massive opponent. “Well fought,” he announced imperiously, his voice booming across the arena as the gathered crowd echoed his applause. “Who is next?”

The gathered crowds roared like wild beasts as Xundar, reigning champion of Battleworld and right hand of Zedracus the Inevitable stalked into the arena. Though he was unarmored, he carried two swords and two shields in his four arms, alternated so that he could attack and defend easily from both sides. Facing him were three blue-skinned humanoids, one bearing twin scimitars, the second a length of wickedly spiked chain, and the third a massive, two-handed maul.

There was no ceremony or salute. The three charged the green-skinned Eristian, the one bearing the maul taking him head-on, while the swordsman and chain-fighter angled to the sides, in an attempt to surround the champion. Never one to fight defensively, Xundar darted forward, knocking aside the swinging maul with the shield in his upper left hand and separating its wielder’s head from his shoulders with the blade in his upper right.

As the crowd howled lustily at the sight of first blood, the other two opponents made their move, charging in from both the right and the left simultaneously. Xundar caught the double swing of both scimitars on his left shield, bringing up the sword in his lower left hand to trap both of his opponent’s blades where they struck. He allowed the chain to wrap about the sword in his upper right hand and pull it from his grasp, but his enemy’s momentary triumph was cut short as he flung the shield in his lower right hand directly into the chain-wielder’s face.

Xundar’s free upper right hand now snapped around with the speed of a striking cobra, grasping the struggling swordsman by the back of the head and smashing his face against the blade that still held his own weapons immobile against the Eristian’s remaining shield. The crowd roared even louder as the swordsman fell lifelessly to the arena floor, his face now a ruined rictus.

The champion dropped his remaining weapons and turned to face the remaining gladiator unarmed. His enemy, shaking his head to recover from the impact of the shield moments before, did not feel the need to similarly disarm himself. He rushed in, whirling his spiked chain in dizzying arcs. Rather than attempt to dodge or parry the attack, however, Xundar simply spread his four muscular arms wide and absorbed it, allowing the tearing weapon to wrap about his limbs and torso. Although his dark blood oozed from dozens of punctures and lacerations as the chain tightened, he did not cry out in pain. One meaty fist closed on the chain, yanking its bearer forward with shocking strength, and another drove downwards onto his head with crushing force, shattering skull and neck alike.

Xundar showed no acknowledgement to the frenzied mob that shrieked in sated bloodlust, calmly disentangling himself from the chain, his wounds already closing. He did not bother to retrieve his weapons, and silently stalked from the arena floor, his face a grim mask. Though the crowd had obviously enjoyed the show, the champion was far from satisfied. These “gladiators” had fought like spastic apes; the killing of such unskilled foes brought no honor or pleasure. If the arena did not provide him with a higher caliber of challenge soon, he was going to have to speak to his master about seeking battle elsewhere, lest his skills atrophy.

o_O Wait, that guy is that big? You never said anything about four frickin' arms!

@xundar: That was pretty badass.

@lady_liberty: Thanks! Still trying to find my feet with this guy; it was one of those "it's almost 2am but I'm gonna get this post out because otherwise I'll be laying in bed thinking about it instead of sleeping" situations.

@arquitenens: Fixed! ;)

@xundar: Uh....fixed what!?

@arquitenens: Check my status. ;)

@xundar: I love the profile pic too. It has that old sword and space fantasy feel.

@xundar: Ha! [I lol.] That makes it....better, I guess.

@arquitenens: The simplest solution is usually the best. ^_^

@lady_liberty: Hehe...you know me; if I was any more old-school, I'd be wearing a toga. ;)

And Atrocity never came here.....

Btw, I chuckled at the status thing lol

@inevitable_one: very nice we need more aliens on CV :) good luck with this.

@_nobody_: The planet's not going anywhere. ;)

@mryashimora: Thank you!

@xundar: But the character did =P

Once I have a decent alien character, I shall come here.

@_nobody_: Always welcome; you can have your own locker room and everything. ;)

@xundar: Do I get free t-shirt for my fans too?

@_nobody_:

@xundar: Okay, count me in =P

Zedracus applauded his champion’s victory, his eyes narrowing as he observed the manner of Xundar’s egress from the arena. The Inevitable One shared the Eristian’s concern; such mediocre displays might sate the bloodlust of the crowds for a time, but it would not hold their attention for long, and it would not provide him with the quality recruits he was seeking. Word had been spreading of his great gladiatorial installation, but perhaps some more…active recruiting measures were called for.

Striding to his personal war room, he assembled his officers and advisors, and gave them their marching orders. “I want every scouting unit available put into service. Any planet that supports life is to be examined; I don’t care about the level of sentience or social development; I simply need fighters. Find me gladiators!”

@spine_

The crowd was clamoring for blood.

Seated upon his ostentatious throne on the observation dais, Zedracus seemed immune to the cacophony. He stared at the bare arena floor, his fingers impatiently drumming his armrest. This latest crop of combatants had not been living up to expectations, and he was growing less and less gracious with each disappointing spectacle.

Raising one hand, he casually motioned for the next battle to begin. A hydraulic door opened in the arena wall, and a massive, insectile creature scuttled into the view of the roaring crowd. Its body, nearly the size of a small car, was encased in an armor-like exoskeleton, and it stood upon two clawed back legs, while pincers on the other four snapped menacingly. Numerous segmented eyes, each glowing an unhealthy-looking yellow, took in the crown as it hissed angrily.

This one shows some promise, at least, the Inevitable One mused. Raising his left, he signaled for the beast’s opponent to enter the arena.

@inevitable_one: (OMG, that gif you posted in this thread has me in a trance. x__x)

After being lifted from the vast expanse of space to fight in the gladiatorial arena of Battleworld, Spine stepped into the ring from her prison. She wasn't a trained fighter, but the harshness of the galaxy forced her to kill or be killed. It was her purpose to survive. Her amber eyes narrowed at the large, grotesque creature before her, her lips tightened into a mingled expression of pensive fury. Disconnecting her tonfa hilts from her belt, she twirled them around in her tattooed hands before igniting the laser swords. The hum was barely audible to her over the roars of the insectoid creature and the cheers from bloodthirsty spectators. The red light emanating from them shown on her white skin as she poised herself to rush the monster. Despite the raukus noise from the audience, her mind was silent as her specialized hair picked up on the alien's bio-electrical signature. With a quick dash and a shout of eager rage, Spine ran to the monster even as it shambled toward her. The number of arms overwhelmed her own appendages. She'd have to narrow the odds. Adeptly swirling her light blades, she sawed through one of the clawed arms. Then another. Her black lips curled into a smirk as the beast cried out in pain and began to attack more viciously. Tumbling on the ground to avoid the onslaught, she placed herself slightly to the side of the back of the creature to lob off another arm. Even as it began to turn toward her, she had run and leaped onto it's back to slide off it's head. Feeling the body crumbling under her, she jumped down, landing on three of her limbs to look up at throne of her captor with spite.

@spine_: (Isn't it great? ^_^)

Impressive. Xanaxian Titanroaches were notoriously vicious and durable creatures, yet this newest arrival had picked one apart as though it was a low-level training android. The spiteful defiance on her face as she gazed up at him almost brought a grin to his face; it reminded him of someone...

At any rate, his decision was already made. Rising to his feet, he applauded her performance. Turning to the Grizzlon guards that flanked his seat, he gave them quiet instructions. "This one shows sufficient ability. Bring her to my quarters after today's battles. I would speak with her."

@inevitable_one: Deactivating her sabres, Spine saw a couple of monstrous guards approaching her. What now? Her black brows furrowed as the spikes on her head attempted to read the minds of the creatures. An audience with the big man himself? Interesting. Maybe I can get something out of this besides this damn servitude. Snapping her hilts to her belt, she followed behind with a relaxed saunter.

@spine_:

Back in his opulent personal quarters, Zedracus reclined in a seat only slightly less ostentatious than the one in the arena. His posture was relaxed, and he had removed his helmet, displaying his bare head and thick, black beard. He had briefly contemplated exchanging his armor for something more comfortable, but decided against it. This was, after all, a business meeting.

He instructed his attendants to pour two glasses of high-end Cillaxian vintage, but shook his head when they asked if his approaching “guest” should be disarmed; having survived a direct hit from a gamma burst, Zedracus was more than confident in his own durability. Besides, if her performance and venomous look were any indication, disarming this one would likely prove to be more trouble than it was worth.

A knock on the door signaled her arrival. “Enter!” he called out imperiously. He did not rise; there were very few beings in the universe that warranted such a show of respect from him, but he did raise his glass in a toast as she was ushered in. “A salute to your magnificent victory.” He motioned to a less elaborate, but equally comfortable seat that faced his own. “Come, drink and be at ease. We have much to discuss. I assume that you are aware of my identity?”

@inevitable_one: Spine entered, pulling herself forcefully away from the hold of one of the Grizzlons. Her yellow orange eyes traveled from Zedracus to the glass. The hybrid quickly grabbed it and gulped it down, letting the psychoactive nature of the liquid buzz in her mind. "Vaguely aware. All I care is that you're responsible for me being in this sh*thole. So, if you've got something to say, big man, say it." She spoke fearlessly, perhaps foolishly, but she wasn't going to let herself be intimated by this guy.

@spine_: He chuckled lightly at her acrid words, though his glowing eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly. "Indeed, I am ultimately responsible for your presence here. I am Zedracus, Inevitable of the Abyssal Imperium. As I am responsible for the Imperium's offensive military efforts, I have a vested interest in beings possessed of great combat prowess. Beings such as you." At a casual motion from his hand, a servant shuffled quickly over and refilled her glass. "There may be a place of high honor for you, in this empire. Tell me of yourself. What name would you have me refer to you by?"

Wait, whaaat? O__O

@inevitable_one: "Well, Mr. Inevitable, I've never been one for honour. But if it involves killing things and more of this sh*t..." she placed the glass on the table, "I'm interested. I go by Spine. I think your people might have exterminated my people, but I couldn't care less. I was designed to survive. I was created because they were weak. I have no pity for such creatures. Got picked up by some of your 'talent searchers' and ended up here. Might have been a nice gig, but I don't much like being treated like a slave. Couple of your guards found that out the hard way." A twisted smile spread across her black lips.

Spine!

I always like that character, well at least the prime version. I'm curious to see what you're going to do with her in the NU.

@_grifter_: @zauberin: Spine was a fun character. But since I was coerced into making a sci-fi character and didn't want to make a new account, I reworked this one. She is quite different.

LOL Problems, Zauby?

@spine_: Zedracus openly laughed now, in spite of himself. Lesser beings such as his guards were all but meaningless to him, and their lives were a price he would pay without a second thought to secure the services of such combatants. "Well then, my dear Spine, consider your days of slavery at an end. A being of your combat prowess and refreshing amorality would be wasted performing for the witless masses. Use your skills to further the goals of the Imperium, and you will have your fill of killing and many fine vintages, as well as other material comforts." He once again motioned for her glass to be refilled as he raised his own to his lips. "Do you accept, then?"

@zauberin: >;)