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originally posted in:The Digital Dojo
Edited by DigitalNinja: 8/4/2016 7:46:02 PM
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[DIGITAL_DOJO]

[b][u]Before reading further, something you should know:[/u][/b] [spoiler]This is an RP thread. If you don't like that kind of thing, than I suggest you hit the back tab now.[/spoiler] Welcome to the [DIGITAL_DOJO], a safe haven for warriors of any kind. Here, all are welcome to train for whatever purpose they may have, whether it be a war, or for personal improvement. You may bring weapons, or buy them here, as we can provide for the unarmed. OUR POLICY: The dojo will remain neutral to all other groups, and anyone is welcome to train. This also means we will not interfere with other battles, nor will we start one ourselves. There is one exception however, it is the sovereignty. We have declared war on them, and we will grill their corpses... If you wish to truly join us, you must go through testing by me or by designated personnel. If not, you do not have permission to take up permanent residence. This place is centered around fighting. This includes a multitude of different fighting techniques, ranging from bladed weaponry, ranged, magical, to even firearms. We have specialists for each, and we also carry some forms of each in stock. Another important notice to everyone: do not add or make adjustments to the dojo without asking me first. This includes relations with other groups, buildings, particularly dangerous equipment, and new members. NEWS: [spoiler] WE'VE HIT 50,000!! DON'T SHUT US DOWN NOW![/spoiler] IMPORTANT THINGS TO NOTE: [spoiler]I'm not always going to be here! If I don't respond, look for one of the Lieutenants.[/spoiler] [b]RULES[/b] [spoiler] 1-the dojo will remain neutral under any and every circumstance, with one exception (see rule 6). All members are required to follow this rule. 2-Any member attempting to take another members life without consent or approval from either the person in question or me will be removed. This becomes effective immediately. 3-Godmodding will grant you a removal from the dojo. 4-lieutenants will now be selected based on merit, not time spent. It is still a factor, but not the main reason for selection. 5-Remember that you cannot win every fight. Try to win if you can, but if you are put up against impossible odds, do not resort to godmodding 6-Anyone and everyone of the sovereignty is our enemy. Kill them and bring their corpses back to the dojo for grilling 7-Ookshmook383141 is not permitted to participate due to constant harassment. No one is permitted to allow him entry. General RP rules will be discussed in the group[/spoiler] [b]For those that don't know what this thread is about, this is an RP thread. Which means you can leave if you were here for something else.[/b] [b][<>---------------------------------<>][/b] [b]And yes, we still exist.[/b]

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  • [i]The room was dark, for none of the lights had been on that day, save for a candle that illuminated the area, resting in the middle of a table. The Dojo was darkened, as it was still the wee hours of the night, barely able to be called eleven. But, nobody was inside the actual building at that time, save for one man and one man alone. The Frontiersman stood, and he stood tall. His duster was tattered and torn all g the bottom lip of it, which was lined with a layer of dirt that signified its age. It was a light brown shade, which managed to match his wide brimmed hat flawlessly. His face was not covered by a shadow as it typically were, rather his partially charred mug was visible to all who look at the left side of his face. It was truly distracting compared to his handsome right half. A single, angelic white beard covered his face from the nose down, reaching from ear to ear, and covering a large part of his neck. At either hip was a gun, a twin set of six-shooters. Either revolver was a dark black shade, the pair of exquisite firearms being a bit bulkier and heavier than any other, to throw off any who managed to disarm the Marshal. His guns were weighted so nobody would be accustomed to them but him. Across his back, a shotgun of three barrels, forming an extended triangle of them. It had no stock, which allowed the cowboy to grip it and fire the uranium slugs singlehandedly. It had a pair of twin triggers, one below the first one on its handle. Beneath the duster was armour and a jumpsuit. The armour was simply just plates of steel, each one connected by leather that covered his chest, and legs. The jumpsuit was green with black trimming, though it seemed to be tightly pressed against his body. He sat, he waited, he trained. Push-ups, sit-ups, all of it, he was seemingly training physically for something. [/i] ((Open))

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