(11 replies, posted in Role Playing)

((Sorry, had to.))

Name: Shalashaska
Nationality: Russian/American
Alias: Revolver Ocelot
Occupation: Drifter
Age: 54
Gender: Male
Appearance: http://i142.photobucket.com/albums/r107 … t/acvr.jpg
Weapons: 2 Single Action Army Revolvers
Equipment: Remote Neural Disruption Unit built into right arm.
((Disrupts communications from the brain and voluntary muscles, causing the target to collapse and spasm.))

Breif History: ((adding soon))


(86 replies, posted in Fans)

True Warrior wrote:
Mandal_ShadowWarrior wrote:

Hate the people who use them, not the guns themselves.

Well the poeple who carry guns ARENT the problem............its the guns themselves.

Guns can't kill people by themselves last time I checked. They are inanimate objects. I do see your point, but I still don't understand it because knives are the same way. It's the person holding the weapon, regardless of what it is. They are the ones who make the choice.

((Forgive me for not posting, last week I found out my grandfather has terminal brain cancer so I can't really cobble up anything right now other than this, sorry.))


(86 replies, posted in Fans)

Mandal_ShadowWarrior wrote:

but overall I hate guns

Hate the people who use them, not the guns themselves.

Guns are a tool, and just like any tool they can be used incorrectly. Its not the guns that are the problem, its the people who use them.

Overall I do think that if i knew that the person living next door, had a gun and could come over anytime he wanted kick down the door and shoot me, would kind of freak me out. But hey if it keeps down crime...Sacrifice of self-comfort sometimes need to be made.

Firstly you're right Mandal, if you think about it, almost ANYTHING can be a deadly weapon.
Does it bother you more that your neighbor could kick the door in and stab you to death with a butter knife? EXACTLY my point. There is nothing wrong with guns or knives, they are simply tools, just as Mandal stated.
Put them in the wrong hands, there's your problem.

That's right, Number 1 Vintage Star Wars toy. big_smile


(89 replies, posted in Creative)

That is sweet, love the armor. The rifle looks cool too. big_smile

Nope, Wii version has totally different gameplay locations. The Mando she's referring to 's name is Chop'aa Notimo. He also did make use of a Basilisk War Droid, sucks he wasn't in PS3 or 360 versions. sad

Reviin stood silently against the wall of his cell, prisoners were running left and right to get out of the cell block. He knew where the passages led, whispers of a great arena he'd heard...better yet...a Battledome.

"Gerba you persistent son-of-a-chakaar." Reviin looked around and most all of the prisoners had cleared. He crept cautiously out of the dank cell and down the east passage, which opened up to a wooded forest setting. Distant blaster fire and yelling could be heard echoing through the massive structure. Reviin walked out into the not so subtle chaos which ensued in the arena, odd no one had attempted any cheap shots at him so far...
Just as the thought entered his mind, someone brought down an orange lightsaber right where he had previously been standing only half a second before. It was an unarmored Bith with tattoos all over his large bulbous head. Reviin dodged left and did a side roll to dodge the sluggish attack. Again the Bith swung, missing by mere inches this time.

"You're no Jetii."

The mad Bith flew into a raging flurry, Reviin dodged best he could, but nicked his beskar a few times.

...enough nonsense...

Reviin grabbed the hilt of his massive knife, drawing it from it's leather sheath. He held a defensive stance, avoiding a few more of the Bith's attacks, then saw an opening in the alien's primitive form. He spun sideways, bringing the cleaver down hard across the Bith's shoulder. Reviin grabbed him, pulling his tattooed head closer to his cracked blood-spattered visor.

"You lose."

He jerked the knife out of the Bith's stomach, causing him to fall to the ground oddly, almost in two. Reviin pried the lightsaber hilt out of the deathgrip, observing it for a moment before putting it on his belt.

"First blood."

Name: Reviin
Species: Human Mandalorian
Gender: Male
Age: 34
Affiliation: Prisoner / Mandalorians

Appearance: 6', heavy defined muscular build, extremely pale skin, smaller than average Mandalorian Helmet (something like Demagol's helmet) T-visor is riddled with hairline cracks, orange tattered/ripped/bloodstained flightsuit, full set of rusted bare metal Mandalorian Beskar Armor on blue leather vest, old pair of Mandalorian crushgaunts.

((So I don't have explain more details, the armor/suit/sashes look pretty much like this but way more weathered))

Main Weapons: A very large combat knife, and an odd looking projectile pistol that has no ammunition

Gauntlet Weapons: Dart launchers (both left and right), concealed pop-out blades,  a Czerka ZX miniature flame projector and a Blas-Tech DUR-23 wrist laser. (the gauntlet weapons are of course depleted/unusable due to condition, minus the blades.)

Brief History: Not much is known about how or why Reviin came to be in this dark prison, it's been told he was a bounty hunter who once crossed Gerba over unfair pay of a bounty and has been in the dungeon ever since, but was never disarmed due to the deaths of all who attempted. Save Katray, the one who put him there in the first place.


(59 replies, posted in Role Playing)

Shelker steamed under his helmet. "For starters you'll address me as 'Commander, Sir'."

Morshvar squinted at the thought. He mockingly bowed. "What shall you have me do, Commander, Sir."
The Sarcasm was clear.

"Heh, you might be more useful than expected." Shelker chuckled. "There is a task I believe you will be fully capable of handling."

"Shelker, you're not thinking about-" Val'in was cut off.

"No, I'm not..." He pointed at the Mandalorian. "...not yet. There is a CIS Fuel depot at the foot of this mountain." The group walked over to the large holoprojector centered in the belly of the HAV, Shelker pointing to several marked locations. "It's being run by a Trade Federation operative who has been but a thorn in my side for months...his name is Rook Fooray. I want you to take him out. Sus'iir has observed the base for some time, and knows the area. He will go and and feed you support data, and if things go sour, sniper support."

"No one will ever know." Sus'iir patted the sniper rifle cradled in his arms. "You up for it?"

Morshvar simply nodded.

"Good." Shelker walked away from the the group to the cockpit. "Change of plans, take us to these coordinates." He handed the pilot a small datacard before walking back.

"This is gonna be a hell of a ride."

*makes prompt exit stage right*

Sorry, but I'm too lazy to post all those links again. tongue

http://mercs.firespray.net/forum/index. … ;topicseen

It is however, unfinished. A work in progress.


(59 replies, posted in Role Playing)

2 miles south of forward command post, Naktaar Mountain Range.

"Alright sir, this is it." The tank pilot said coolly to Shelker. "We're right on top of the beacon...I'm not picking up anything on the scanners."

"Yeah?" Shelker leaned over the console to look at the screen.

"Wait...there. Movement." The pilot pointed over to a group of snowy bushes.

The 'bushes' stood up, mockingly saluting in the direction of the tank; Shelker shook his head. "Auurin."

Sus'iir and Val’in made their way over to the entrance ramp. "Suc’cuy ner’vod."

"Suc’cuy. I trust your excursion was enlightening." Shelker put his arms around both Mandalorians.

"Yes, we've found multiple encampments and landing zones for the CIS forces, close to eight klicks from here, south." Sus'iir pulled a small datachip from the side of his helmet. "I have area scans and photos, as well as resupply schedules for two of the outposts we observed."

"Most impressive. Is the news of civilians being recruited into the ranks also true?" Shelker led the two to the central projector.

"Yes. That is being handled by a Mandalorian Commander, Jax Talos." Auurin plugged the datachip into the console outlet, pulling the recon data. "There is one more thing."

"And what's that?"

"We've discovered a local Noghri resident who might be useful." Sus'iir said with utmost seriousness.

"...Found us by accident, more like it." Val'in stated.

"A what? Hahahahaha!" Shelker let out a loud belly laugh.

"His skills are impressive." Sus'iir said calmly.

"Oh really?" Shelker continued to laugh some more.

"Indeed." Val'in added.

Welcome to the Naltoon RPG!

Setting: A small moon in a Mid-Rim planetary system known as Naltoon 6

Plot: (Clone Wars Era) The Republic has recently lost full control of a moon orbiting an important planetary depot vital to the Republic's Hyperspace lanes.

Your Mission as the Republic: Recapture the enemy occupied portion of the moon, destroy vital CIS structures and HVTs; stomp the droid army into the bits of scrap metal they are.

Your Mission as the CIS: Hold back the oncoming waves of Republic Forces until reinforcements arrive; This fight can go either way.

Terrain: The area this RPG takes place is mountainous with several low lying areas, most scenery there is little more than dead frost covered shrubs and large evergreen-looking trees. The higher regions are almost the same, with the exception of being completely bathed in snow.

The Rules:

1. You may create any character you want.  Clarify their name and species so others can follow their actions easily.

2. You can kill characters you create but you can't kill other people's characters unless they say they have been killed in battle with you.

3. You can have any weapon you want but you can only have what your character could physically carry - otherwise they wouldn't be able to move.

4. Be consistent, e.g. if someone says they blew up a building, don't suddenly be assaulting it.

5. If you have sustained many wounds you will have to either get medical help or eventually die.

6. Follow the storyline, sure add a few twists and turns but allow others to see where you want to go so they can help you get there.

7. Have fun.


You can play as either side - try and balance this out.

Base character sheet (Most of you guys know how to do this already; but for those of you who don‘t…)

Name: (Designation Number if Clone Trooper or Droid; keep in mind not every Clone Trooper has a name or nickname unless high rank/veteran)
Age: (If Organic)
Allegiance: (Republic/CIS/Freelancer)
Clothing and armor:
Short character description:


((My Character))

Name: Sus’iir Auurin
Age: 31
Species: Human Mandalorian
Affiliation: Mandalorians/Republic
Occupation: Elite Sniper
Current Employer: The Republic
Weapons: Custom bore ballistic sniper rifle, 6 shot revolving pistol
Armor: Full set of gray w/ tan trim Mandalorian Beskar Armor; slightly smaller than most sets for mobility
Clothing: Pale tan jumpsuit with Ghillie Suit components
Appearance: 6'; athletic build, very short sandy brown hair
Personality: Cool and calm, can be seen as overly serious to outsiders, but generally friendly around those he considers vode

((Auurin's Spotter))

Name: Val'in Oriil
Age: 34
Species: Human Mandalorian
Affiliation: Mandalorians/Republic
Clothing and Armor: Gray flightsuit with full set of white/gray trim Mandalorian Beskar Armor; also has Ghillie suit components.


HAVw A6 Mobile Command Center - 0700 Hours

Clone Commander Shelker paced around the redoubt showing the loss of yet another outpost.
"This is unacceptable." He quickly turned off the projector. "This will not happen again, understood?"

The silence was all Shelker needed to go into a killing frenzy.

"...Sir, if I may, We were outnumbered three to one." One of the Captains spoke up.

"Three to one? Those are good odds, especially if you're the one defending." Shelker paused for a moment. "Suppose I kill you for your incompetence. That would make things all the better."


Without hesitation, Shelker drew his blaster and made short work of the Clone Captain.
"Failure will not be tolerated."

"Yes sir." The rest of the ranks answered before making a prompt exit.

"Orders?" The HAV Pilot asked Shelker.

"Take me to the Regional Settlement Commander."


(20 replies, posted in Creative)

Yeah, I joined there under the name of my favorite one of a kind RPG Mando, Solus Auurin. big_smile

((Note to all: The name Solus Auurin is under copyright by BFFC user Lord Revan. Any attempt to use, borrow or steal without permission will result in prosecution via sniper rifle. Thank you.))



(20 replies, posted in Creative)

Pheonix023 wrote:

All the sudden I had this hilarious mental image of you putting on your armor, and then promptly falling over backwards....and, like a turtle, not being able to get on your feet again....

Someone I know fell out of a chair wearing full stormtrooper armor with the same result. tongue


(737 replies, posted in Role Playing)

((Time to get this thing back up and going.))

That = awesome. Very nice story you have there, very nice indeed.


(141 replies, posted in Role Playing)

Ocelot got up from the stool he was sitting on; next to him was a slumped over Indiana Jones, and a large half asleep alien in a jacuzzi; as if things weren't weird enough. He walked away from the pool to the restaurant, it was reminiscent of a diner he'd been in once. Ocelot sat down comfortably, putting his arm over the back of the booth.

"Well well. Look who's here."


(28 replies, posted in Role Playing)

Haze piloted Smoke's personal shuttle to Iapetus behind the other landing parties. He had Haze put the shuttle down about 100 meters away from the mouth of the giant lunar cave. Haze, and the squad of elites equipped their space suit breathing equipment before lowering the exit ramp of the shuttle. The air rushed out from around the group as they stepped out; Smoke directly behind.

After about ten minutes of walking, the party arrived at the facility main entrance inside the cave; they stood before a large opened blast door.

"Do you know- *huff* -what lies beyond this point?"

The squad captain looked at his men; they all nodded. "Yes sir."

"I advise not removing your respiration gear or helmets." Haze promptly removed her helmet and space suit, readying her BMFG. "Unlike me."

Smoke pulled the M68C out of the dufflebag under his arm, nodding.

"Let's Move."

Wow, cool indeed. I have only seen one in my searches, and I bought it at Kmart when it first came out in '04.


(141 replies, posted in Role Playing)

Ocelot walked across the street to the nearly run-down hotel; the shutters looked as if there were going to fall off their hinges. He smirked as he walked in the doorway, Ocelot has seen worse. There was no one tending the check-in counter, only a lone bell to ring for assistance. He heard footsteps and looked to the long hallway on his left; it was the innkeeper. Ocelot stood there for a moment with his arms crossed; the fat man hurried his pace.

"What...Can I...do for you?" The overweight innkeeper stopped in front of him, out of breath.

"I'm looking for a large party that came in earlier, led by a man in brown fedora."

"Ahh yes...you should have been here five minutes ago." The man's odd moustache twitched.
"The infamous Shadow paid us a visit...without paying..."

...the shadow?

"Interesting. Where can I find Dr. Jones?"

"Eh...up the stairs, nine rooms down."

Ocelot nodded, walking up the thick wooden stairs up to the party's row of rooms. He stopped at Dr. Jones' room, the door was kicked open. Odd. He almost walked in when he heard a voice from behind.

Indiana stood there with his Webley-Green Revolver trained on Ocelot.

"You lookin' for me?"

"Ah yes, Dr. Jones..."


(141 replies, posted in Role Playing)

Ocelot watched the large mismatched party leave the booth next to him; he assumed the man in the fedora, or rather 'Dr. Jones', was the leader. He sat down at the now unoccupied booth, going over in his mind Dr. Jones' plan. Plausible, but whatever powers this emperor possessed, they must be damn good. Ocelot poured another glass of whiskey and downed it, slumping in the padded leather seat. It was going to be a long night...

Ocelot decided he might could benefit from the confederate group, and possibly get back to his own 'realm'. He slid out of the booth and went back over to the bartender. As it always did, the little head-in-a-jar dropped down from above somewhere.

"More Whiskey?"

"No thanks, I need to know where I can get a night's rest."

"Well, seein you got no money..."

"Where did that large group go? The one led by...Dr. Jones."

"Aye, the Dragon's Den, 'cross the street."

Ocelot nodded, and proceeded out the door.

((I'll post more tomorrow, I gotta  get some sleep.))


(28 replies, posted in Role Playing)

Smoke stood over Haze at the Communications console in the security wing. "Where- *huff* -is the signal coming from?"

"Iapetus; It's it's coming from the ridge somewhere."

"Damn. Assemble a- *huff* -team, I'll meet you at the docks in 15 minutes."

"On my way."

Smoke made a stop at the armory to collect some 'goods'. He grabbed several cans of shotgun shells and special .500 ammo, an M68C Auto shotgun, and another...item. He stuck the contents into a large duffle bag, then proceeded to the transport.

Haze was standing at the boarding ramp along with 12 elite soldiers.

"Let's git-r-done."


(28 replies, posted in Role Playing)

((Tis what everyone else thinks...MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!))