Star Army

Star ArmyⓇ is a landmark of forum roleplaying. Opened in 2002, Star Army is like an internet clubhouse for people who love roleplaying, art, and worldbuilding. Anyone 18 or older may join for free. New members are welcome! Use the "Register" button below.

Note: This is a play-by-post RPG site. If you're looking for the tabletop miniatures wargame "5150: Star Army" instead, see Two Hour Wargames.

  • Got suggestions or a cool idea for Star Army? Share it in the new Suggestions Forum and vote on other ideas to let staff know what the community wants.
  • Join the final battle of the Kuvexian War in the Open RP Forum!
  • It's 1月 YE 43 for January and February. IC months advance every 2 OOC months.

NSS Wrath of Nepleslia mission 1: Shadows of the gilded age Ep. 1 The Mess Hall


Site Supporter
RP Date
RP Location
NSS Wrath of Nepleslia Mess Hall
Private Alan “Mossy” Mosfet was always painfully aware that he stood 5 feet and 11 inches tall and cursed his genetics for withholding from him that last inch. To make up for it, he spent the majority of his free time working out, and carefully kept himself in a state of perpetual dehydration to give his muscles as much definition as he possibly could.

Finally out of what felt like an endless line for chow, he carried his tray into the mess hall and took a quick glance at the various occupants huddled at tables. At the opposite end of the hall, he spotted a lady corporal who was eating alone and he weaved his way between his crew mates towards her. While he did so, he looked down at the tray in front of him and smiled at the extra burger he'd managed to nab, licking his lips hungrily.

It was due to this distraction that Mossy didn't notice the pair of dogs sitting next to the corporal until it was too late, and his intention to sit with her was already quite obvious. When he noticed them, he realized that they almost looked like wolves and took a slight misstep.

"Howdy corporal," he gulped, trying to keep his eyes off the canines. "Mind if I sit with you?"


Lounged back in her chair, the young woman was starting to merely pick at the meal set on the table in front of her, one leg draped over the other long ivory hair pulled back in a ponytail per usual to keep it out of the way. Vibrant pools of lime staring down in a harsh manner upon the food she could hardly muster an appetite for; seeming more concerned to remain tangled up in the buzzing of her thoughts. At her feet her beloved canines lay, each on their respected sides.

They were large beasts that truly looked more wolf than they did any sort of domestic dog, true to their species with thick manes around their necks and twin tusks protruding from their maws. The pair were identical to one another, coats of rich ebony, matching gold eyes, the only difference between the pair physically being Ritters one crooked ear. Other than that, there was the fact that the two were impressively different from each other in demeanor, Ritter on her left side lay lounged lazily on his side, his large head resting firmly upon the top of her boot. Faust however was proper and stiff, laying flat down belly to the floor, head raised stacked neatly atop his shoulders. Sharp eyes and keen ears attentive and fixed on the world around them.

It was the shift in Faust that caught her attention first, her eyes drifted downward in a glance as he adjusted slightly before flickering back up to the private in what could almost be considered a dismissive glance. "Howdy corporal," she observed him in silence, her features failing to change to anything that might be considered inviting. "Mind if I sit with you?" "I suppose not," did she really mind? Well...probably, but if she was going to spend most of her time aboard this ship, perhaps she should at least try to make some friends or ─ acquaintances.

"What brings you on this ship, private?" a simple if not perhaps slightly invasive inquire for information as she attempted some small talk. While Faust's piercing gold eyes threatened to burn a hole in the privates head. And Ritter watched his brother intently, his tail giving two thumps.


Site Supporter
It occurred to Mossy that he still had the opportunity to sit somewhere else. He could make something up. Perhaps he could see someone out of the corner of his eye? No luck there, since he was faced directly into the corner of the room that lay behind this corporal. Even in the fullness of his peripheral vision, he could only see wall. Wall, corporal, dogs, and table.

The words of his pappy came to mind: "if you buy the ticket," he would always say, "you take the goddamn ride." Unfortunately for him, it seemed he had bought this ticket so there was nothing left to do but take the ride.

After what he hoped was not an obvious pause to consider his options, he cautiously pulled himself up directly across from her. He moved slowly, trying desperately not to startle - or worse, step on - the dogs as he sat down. Once he was sitting, he relaxed somewhat and put down his burger-laden tray, but still made sure not to move his feet.

"I didn't pick it," he announced, perhaps somewhat anticlimactically, "if that's what yer askin'."

Mossy let out a breath, quietly, then took his eyes off her to look down at his food. He grabbed a burger and started munching on it more delicately than he had done anything else in his life, except for sitting down just now. Between mouthfuls of food, he continued.

"I mainly just hurry up and wait wherever they tell me." Mossy could feel beads of sweat forming at his hairline. "Exceptin' when they're telling me to hurry up and shoot, o' course."

A moment passed, and when he was about half done his second burger, he realized he hadn't said anything for a while. "What about you?"


"I didn't pick it," Terra would glance up, that stoic unamused look permanently plastered upon her face. "if that's what yer askin'." right. Well if this wasn't the most interesting man she'd met so far, she would think to herself sarcastically. As she sat in judgmental silence allowing him to carry on his one sided conversation "I mainly just hurry up and wait wherever they tell me." a soft sigh passed her lips, "Exceptin' when they're telling me to hurry up and shoot, o' course." her gaze would sweep upward away from him, uninterested and unamused as she skimmed the crowd in the mess hall with a look that said 'dear lord, someone help me' allowing the tense and awkward silence to filter between them, her hand casually reaching down to pet Faust behind his left ear as the canines sharp gold eyes remained locked on his target; their company.

"What about you?" it was only then that Terra's attention was drawn back to him, angling her head so she could glance back up at the man. "Home life wasn't exactly ideal, let's just put it that way" she mused briefly. "Besides, I hope to find my brother as well." she added on, memories flickering back to their childhood momentarily, Terrathel running up to him, a litter of Maulwurfhund's at her heels, their tails wagging with excitement as they chased after her. Causing the child to trip as they tangled their paws in her feet, sending her tumbling face first into the mossy dirt despite her attempts to catch herself. Shakily would she of started to push herself up, arms burning from the scrapes and cuts. A hand catching her arm, helping to hoist her up onto her feet, her green watering eyes flickering up to find her brother looking down the concern for his little sister etched onto his face.

The memory faded as Ritter would sit up, gently nudging her arm with his head to bring her back, she glanced down at him, petting the top of his head before she returned her attention to the private, "So, do I get a name?" she asked simply her face hardening once more.


Site Supporter
Art credit:

Mossy continued to fixate on the corporal's face while stuffing his own with food. He watched her attention wander while he spoke and only return to him when she herself was talking. But if this caused a thought in his head it certainly didn't show in his face which remained entirely placid. Combined with the unbroken rhythm of his chewing gave the distinct impression of some sort of ruminant beast engaging in one of the masticatory phases of its complex digestive cycle.

When she asked his name, it finally made him pause, his brow furrowing, causing his unkempt eyebrows to attempt some sort of mating ritual at the base of his low forehead.

"But don't you have a na-OH!" He exclaimed finally, his mouth erupting into a smile and the contents of his mouth almost erupting onto the table. "You mean what's MY name!"

The private put down his third burger, slapped his knee and held his belly as he unleashed a guffaw.

"That's good, I'm gon' steal that." Finally, he managed to finish the half-eaten food that had been ricocheting around his cheeks and teeth before he continued. "Mah name's Mossy. Alan Mosfet, if you wanna get formal on me, but most folk don't."

He reached forward and grabbed the glass of water that had thus far remained untouched upon his food tray, and took a deep gulp.

"I 'spect I set most folk at ease with my," and he adjusted himself, sitting more upright in preparation for the next words that were going to come out of his mouth. "...comfortable duh-MEAN-er."

Mossy smiled at this, clearly deeply satisfied at invoking his polysyllabic vocabulary. It was then that he remembered where he was, catching sight of the two dogs out of the periphery of his vision.

"Anywho," he continued, clearly losing any momentary semblance of comfort he had. "Where'd yer brother get lost at?"
Last edited:


Green eyes came to narrow as the confusion swept across his face "But don't you have a na-OH!" her features only stiffened, adjusting in her seat to draw herself back slightly "You mean what's MY name!" her muscles tensed, clearly unamused by the privates display. Her own tension causing Faust to stiffen, bringing the much more serious canine to lift himself from where he'd been laying into a seated position, ears drawing tighter atop his crown. As the man carried on with his antics, Faust shifted dropping his head slightly a low deep rumble beginning to brew from the Maulwurfhund's throat. "That's good, I'm gon' steal that." he didn't move though, although he may of well looked like he could lunge across the table at any given moment.

Terrathel's glare never faultered, "Right," she mused simply. Giving no further acknowledgement to the mans foolery, nor to the heads that may be turning in their direction at his outburst. "Mah name's Mossy. Alan Mosfet, if you wanna get formal on me, but most folk don't." "I see, well it's a um..." she paused, trying to find the words, pleasure? No. Luckily before she had to fumble to find them he carried on, "I 'spect I set most folk at ease with my, ...comfortable duh-MEAN-er." another sigh, almost pained this one. "I suppose i'm not most people," the passive aggressive tone clear in her voice, though she wouldn't be surprised if it went right over Mossy's head.

"Anywho," Faust would curl his lips slightly, displaying his shimmering white teeth for Mossy. "Where'd yer brother get lost at?" "He didn't get lost - he left when I was young" she almost snapped the words, Terrathels growing agitation with the mans presence causing Fausts hackles to bristle now and Ritter to finally sit up to see what was going on.


Site Supporter
"Ah," Mossy nodded solemnly, looking down at his tray of food. The private was perfectly oblivious to the tone of the corporal's voice and her steadily stiffening body language, but at least capable of remembering what she had said a moment earlier. "On account o' the less than ideal home life, I 'spect."

"My --," Mossy started to look up, but something caught his attention and the upwards movement of his head took a detour, but then suddenly froze. Outwardly, it might seem as though some great idea had occurred to him, but inwardly his mind was racing. Is that dog growling at me? Should I look? Or do dogs dislike that?

Mossy thought back to visiting his uncle who had a pair of massive hound dogs who spent the vast majority of their time in a semi-liquid state merging into one another at the foot of their master's reclining chair. However, he distinctly remembered that any sudden noises or movement would fire them into a frenzy of fur, fat, and flesh whose howls could be heard the next town over. The memory wasn't particularly helpful in his current situation though, because his uncle's hounds were either in a frenzy or may as well have been dead. At no point did they ever exhibit a mood other than either extreme of lethargy or furious rage.

"Corporal," the man spoke as quietly as he could over the din of the hundreds of other conversations going on in the mess hall. "I think one of yer dogs might be growlin'."