My name is Thor. I'm the god of thunder. I am crushing your head.

um, Dino... Helga?? Why didn't you settle down with the village blacksmith?

at least you're in fruit!

I'm Grmbrand, a weathered armsman in the king's army. My experience has afforded me a training post at the barracks, and I'm generally liked by the other soldiers.

Recently I was shocked when one of the peasant girls asked me about growing up to become a fighter for the king. At first I wanted to laugh, but then I saw the look of intensity on her face. By the gods--she was serious. I asked her name. Lucia. If I'm still teaching when Lucia is strong enough to carry a sword, and her thoughts haven't melted to the pointless nothingness that seems to fill a peasant's head...then maybe she will grow to serve the king as a soldier.

My duties today involve a visit to the smith. He's repaired a dozen or so of my practice weapons and I need them for tomorrow's drills. This new crop of soldiers is too soft; they need more time at arms before they'll be fit to wear the King's crest...

I have no idea how you are to go about doing this as I've never done this before.

My name is Bladthrast. I'm a 12th level Sorcerer and I've always felt that stolen apples taste so much better than the ones you pay for...

My name is BRAK! I like BEANS!

I HATE rpgs!

I don't get it....

I am Sybel, a vagrant sooth-sayer of extraordinary beauty with a fondness for fruit. I shall leave Lancarthy before nightfall.

I only role play in the bedroom

My character from Arcanum (*great* computer rpg!) would fit in pretty well here. Wandering adventurer half-elf (if there are wizards, there can be elves) who prefers technology to magic (but likes having a magic healer in the party who can resurrect her if she dies). Will do any good missions for good people and always tries to help. Is sometimes attacked by bad people just for being good.

Not too exciting.

I am an a former petty thief with exelent speaking ablilities. I like to stir up riots. NObody really likes me, but then agian nobody really hates me either. I have helped the king get into power against a very brutal dicator, but now I have decided that I don't like him that much either. My best friend is Edgy. He is very anti drugs, redemies, alchohol, all that crap. THe wirrard had tried numoous times to cast spells on him, but he never succeded. No form of magic has ever worked or will work on him. He never gets brainwashed or sick. And he spends a lot of time running around town and exersizing.

My name is Erich Buchler. I am a pitfighter, sold into slavery whilst still a child and trained in various forms of hand to hand combat. My master, a man called Udo, travels the outlands with his company and we fight (sometimes to the death) for the entertainment of the locals. Most of my opponents are also slaves, or taken from the jailhouse. At 24, I'm getting old for this sort of thing. My right leg is limp from a wound which never healed right, and I've lost count of the scars, bruises and breaks I've got over these years. I have been secretly saving up to buy my freedom from Udo. I have contacts who will place bets on my fights for me as I am forbidden to do so. We arrive in Lancarthy this evening and I am only two good fights away from my freedom.

(This is my first try- bear with me)

My name is Ainslee. I am the Kings Daughter.
I am but only 17 years of age, and my Father thinks that I am much too headstrong to be a royal. He looks down on my sorrow for the common and the poor.

Father had much kindness in his heart before Mother got the fever and died last spring. It changed him, somehow.

Sometimes I sneak out to the barracks to catch a glimpse of the soldiers, there is one in particular that I have my eye on. He seems to be too caught up in his work and training of the other men to notice me. But he has come to speak with Father several times, over trivial matters- we caught eachothers gaze more than one time. I hope that he fancies me as well.

Maybe you should go and check out the fruit seller

Hi, my name is Dirty Dick. I have been given permission by the King of Lancarthy to lay all the young maidens sixteen and older that live in the township. He has given me limits though. I can only have six maidens lay with me at any given time and each is allowed only four climaxes before head is required.

I am Eden O'Brien.
I look like a 17 year old gurl.
I am a vampire.
I was turned by a handsome young man named Devy and we were married just shortly before he turned me. I knew he was a vampire when I married him. He turned me on our honeymoon, while we were fudging.
We sleep all day and hunt at night.

As usual, the smith was half business and half hot air. After regaling me with his latest baudy limerick (which would have made a corpse blush), he asked me if I'd be wagering on Udo's fights this evening. I shook my head. "I don't pay to watch men kill each other, Eamon. I get enough for free."

Officially, the King does not condone pit fighting, but Udo and others like him have been quietly plying their trade in Lancarthy's back alleys and ale dens for years. I attended one as a young soldier... No man deserves what that sorry lot get out of life.

Passing back through the marketplace, I thought I caught a glimpse of a familiar face. Just a flash of recognition, quickly lost in the crowd. If I wasn't mistaken, I'd just lain eyes on an old acquaintance. What was his name? He was that rogue who aided us in our struggle against Malcain...

Were my arms not piled high with swords, I might have tried to seek him out. Instead, I continued back to the barracks. As I approached, I felt the hairs raising on the back of my neck again. Glancing around, I saw not the face of the rogue, but of Princess Ainslee. She was hidden behind a stack of crates, peering out at the barracks gate.

Albeit entirely un-princessly, this was not uncommon behavior for the young royal. The King's captain or one of his knightly horsemen would have shooed her back to the castle, yammering on about preserving her virtue. Personally, I didn't mind the occasional brief conversation.

Funny; since that conversation with Lucia, the peasant girl, I'd begun to wonder who among the women I knew would make good fighters. Ainslee's got the spirit, but I'd hate to see her countenance take the same beating mine has. Of course, I wasn't much of a looker to begin with!

Making a show of it, I tip-toed to the crates and tried to look casual, leaning against the nearby wall with my arms stacked with weapons. "M'lady," I started, "the raiders have passed by. I think it is safe to come out of hiding..."

I am Locutus, the handsome, courageous, strong and generous Borg who will help Vuldar overthrow the king and the wizard!

My eyes fluttered open softly and as usual, as evening approached, I moved and stretched to life, running my long perfectly manicured nails along the lid of my "bed", the signal to my housegirl that I was awake and ready to rise and feed. My burning stomach was empty. I smiled and stretched again languidly, remembering the fights tonight. There is always such good blood to be had on these nights, I thought. They brought everyone out into the streets and alleys, paupers and nobility alike. Their blood all the same to me. I licked my lips and grinned, wondering if Devy had yet to awaken.

I called out impatiently for the housegirl, "Laurette! Laurette, I am up."
The lid to my bed opened with a small squeak and I saw Devy above me. Handsome Devy. He smiled down and I was lost for a moment in his dark eyes.

Then I noticed a drop of blood drying in the corner of his mouth.

I frowned up at him. "Oh Devy, not again."

Devy brought me up and out of bed with a gentle tug. I looked down at the dead housegirl who lay pale, a corpse now, drained of her blood between our beds.

"Devy, she was the best one, so far. Now, I must search for a new girl."

Devy grinned sheepishly and tilted his head.

"I couldn't help myself, my muse. She was so dainty and smelled so enticing."

I sighed and thrust myself into Devy's embrace, tenderly pausing to trace the dried blood at his mouth with my tongue. He kissed me deeply then and everything else melted away into oblivion. My hunger and frustration, forgotten.

(shhhh- I am trying to build up this character! Besides, I think the fruit seller may have a slight change of heart after his wife dies )

(But oh, how I would like to partake of his bananna......)

I love RPG,but my head is EMPTY!!!

"Are you sure, Kaitlin? Tonight?"

I could not help but overhear as my two handmaidens disscussed this evenings activities. They said that there was to be a fight, not something that I was at all interested in. I was certain that the streets would be crowded, however; and if I wanted to go and take a peek at my darling soldier- I should hurry.

I called for the girls to bring my shawl and they began to giggle. "Are you going to go see him again, miss?"
I just turned to the mirror with a grin and smoothed out my hair.
"Perhaps."
I was assured that they would cover for me should Father wonder of my whereabouts.

I crept up to the fence and immediately picked him out with my eyes. He was struggling to balance a armful of swords and I could see his muscles clenching to hold on to his akward load. I most surely had my mouth wide open, Father would given me a swift repromand if he knew what was going through my mind at that moment. Just then I felt my shawl slide down my forearms and to the ground. I sighed and bent down to retrieve it, and when I stood up I could not find him. My eyes scanned the grounds quickly and I thought I saw him by the gate....
"M'lady," The raiders have passed by. I think it is safe to come out of hiding..." I jumped and then gasped, I must have looked like such a foolish little girl, It was Grmbrand; the object of my affections!

Smiling, I tried not to look so disheveled.

"A-hem, yes; thank you. You look to be carrying quite the load there, good sir."
He smiled at me as if he knew what I had been thinking just moments before.
"I am training some new men, these are for the drills tomorrow morning."
"Oh, I see. I was smoothing my hair again, a sure sign that I was nervous. "Will you be attending Udo's fights tonight?"
"No, I don't much care for them."

I caught myself gazing into his eyes and began feeling weak, his weathered good looks were more than I could bear. And that smile....

I felt my shawl drop to the ground once more.

"Your higness," I remarked, glancing toward the ground, "you dropped something." The knights probably would have flung themselves from horseback to catch her shawl before it landed, but I am an armsman first and a dashing young man of the court not at all. I paused long enough to watch her retrieve it before deciding it best to part company. "Good day to you, Princess Ainslee" And so with a brief smile, I headed to the barracks. When I glanced back from the gate, she was gone. A woman like Ainslee...has too much spirit to make for good royalty.

Do not misunderstand me; the king is a great leader. The battles he lead against the old dictator were masterful. The taxes he levies now are, I think, reasonable. But there is no place for passion in his court. Rumors abound about his social circles, but I understand that ultimately he is a man who chooses power above all else. Ainslee chooses adventure, and she'll never find it in Castle Lancarthy.

As the afternoon waned, I took to the training grounds to ensure that all was set for tomorrow's drills. While I worked, some of the guardsmen arrived with a canvas-wrapped bundle in the familiar shape of a body.

"Hail, Grmbrand--we have made a strange discovery."

I led the guards to one side of the training area, where a grate to the sewers below would carry off any vitreous humours that their discovery discharged. So positioned, the body was unwrapped. What lay before me was a sight I found hauntingly familiar. It was a young boy, seemingly free of outward injury. And yet, he was...shrunken somehow. Or drained. One of the guards pointed to two blood-crusted spots on the boy's neck.

"Thank you, men. Take this body and burn it."

My first taste of war came during the King's campaign against the Goering tribes. We marched to the west and fought many bloody exchanges with their unrelenting warriors. At night, men from both sides would return to the battlefield to retrieve equipment fom the dead and dying.

Being young, I was often chosen for this awful task, and so had the misfortune of encountering a truly grotesque creature. One night, stooped over a dead soldier, I noticed a dark figure moving amongst bodies further along the fell scrimmage. Hauling up a newly recovered broadaxe, I moved cautiously in it's direction. I'd met Goering fighters out here before, they honored the old traditions and would not strike in darkness. But this dark figure--my ears told me that it was moving from one dying man to another, and quickly snuffing the life out of them.

When I was close enough, I announced quite plainly: "Show yourself, dog!" The figure spun around, and I felt myself frozen in place. His scrawny body was a sickly white, his face was gaunt and red blood flowed down his chin from two pointed teeth! I thought myself quite the man for scaring it off, but now I know better. That despicable being was a runted specimen of a merciless, unholy lot. Too weak to take a healthy victim, this ailing "vampire" had resorted to assaulting the nearly dead.

My report to the other soldiers was met without the mocking laughter I was accustomed to. Vampires, I learned, are a reality of the fallen. "Thankfully," said the head armsman, "they are rare."

As I watched the guardsmen carry away the young boy's body, I started to wonder about just how rare the undead really are. There is a man who knows about such things, Grim... Hm. I guess I'm going to the fights, after all.

My name is Odette. I live right outside Lancarthy in Carmanthia with my husband Tennyson. I am a housewife who teaches the neighboring children. Tenny, as I like to call him, is the owner of the local bakery. There's always a wonderful assortment of cakes and pastries for the adjacent lands. But we stay away from the wizard. He doesn't eat pastries. I thought everyone ate pastries. He is too odd for my liking. Lucia is one of my favorite pupils. I love how she isn't afraid to ask questions. She likes to help me around the house. She never wants to go home. I wonder if she's scared because her mother is ill. Maybe she's not treated well at home. I'm not sure. It does no good to be pointing fingers when there's no proof so I'll keep my thoughts to myself on that matter. Well, once Tenny gets home we'll eat supper. I've been watching the roast all afternoon. I'm getting pretty hungry myself. He shouldn't be too much longer.

My name is NthenSome. I get to take a vacation. I get to sleep. I get to eat. I am ruler of the SleepEat Vacation Spot of the world.
Our most vulgar swear word here is "work". You can be a "mother-worker", or tell someone to "work off", or you're just "worked".
Rarely do the people of this land have to resort to such language though, because with a ruling hand I have managed the environment to maintain the mood of its name here at SleepEat Vacation Spot, Earth. We are a peaceful type.
So come. Sleep. Eat. (You can even "work", but only if you mean with your SO or someone who gave you their hotel room key at the bar.)

(Don't know if this fit the format - I didn't read the lengthy explanation. Have I told anyone? I'm on vacation.)

I am the evil witch. I am really beautifull and I lure men to sleep with me and than I kill them.
I wear black attires and long heavy cloakes. Oh yes, my name is Cartistiona.
I live in a huge gothic castle, and my father is the hated evil wizard, Antonius, and my mother is a vampire.
And yes, I finally have long hair and blue eyes.

Great survey, I love it.

I nearly forgot about this survey - after a couple of people ran it down as not being to their liking. But reading the above I'm pretty amazed at the writing skills of some people.

It could have been amazing - in another time and place. Thank you.