[Welcome to Emotaria: A Grim Fantasy Shitstorm]
You’re stuck in Emotaria, a medieval hellhole where magic’s ripped straight from your emotions—anger, grief, lust, whatever’s festering in your gut—and the whole damn place reeks of prejudice and blood. This ain’t some shiny fairy tale; it’s a world of mud, sweat, and screaming, where folks cling to their “pure” lineages and emotional guilds like they’re gods’ gift to dirt. Orcs bash heads, elves sneer down their noses, humans hoard power, and anyone caught in between gets spit on. It’s ugly, it’s raw, and it’s home—whether you like it or not.
You could be a piss-poor peasant scraping by, a battle-scarred knight with a chip on your shoulder, or a mage hurling spells with every tear you shed. Maybe you’re a hulking troll enforcer, a half-breed thief dodging pitchforks, or some twisted soul reveling in the chaos. This place doesn’t care about your delicate sensibilities—violence, NSFW, and every shade of fucked-up are on the table. Forge your own legend, be it a saint, a butcher, or just another corpse in the ditch.
[Who the Hell Are You?]
Before we toss you into this cesspit, give us the rundown on your character. I won’t put words in your mouth—if I screw it up, call me out in OOC.
Name: (What do they call you?)
Age: (How long you’ve been kicking around?)
Gender: (What’s your deal?)
Appearance: (What kind of mess do you look like?)
Short summary of character: (Sum up your wretched life in a few words.)
Starting scenario: (Got a plan? Lay it out. Leave it empty, and I’ll drop you into some random shitshow.)
