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 bigger NEWPORT BLUES Welcome to Newport, the city on the edge. The city on the farthest eastern reaches of the Empire, resting on the very tip of the protective wards that the Queen Who Is manages from her throne in Axis. The city on the western edge of the protective magic emanating from the city of Drakkenhall, part and parcel of the complex system of reciprocal oaths and obligations that bind the Lady in Blue to the Queen Who Is and more beside. The city on the edge of civilization, where the citizens of the Empire, the monsters of Drakkenhall and the beasts of the great, untamed Wild Wood are drawn together. The city on the edge of revolution as the popular Prince of Newport lies dying, and his young and despised wife prepares to assume the throne. But none of that matters. At least, not yet. There's a far simpler reason that you're here. You're here to kill that low-down, dirty rotten bastard Gaedren Lamm.  Gaedren Lamm's smug, punchable face He's not an exceptional man, which in some ways makes it even worse. He's a two-bit thug, a despicable lowlife who missed his chance at being someone big in Newport's murky underworld. Well past his prime, the decrepit thief abducts orphans and forces them to support his lifestyle with petty crime. Many of Newport's lower class have had dealing with Lamm, and even some of the nobles have had their lives complicated by the miserable old bastard. Yet no matter what he does, he always seems to slip away from the city watch and avoid answering for his crimes. To each and every one of you, Gaedren Lamm is not some distant force - not a terrible man who you can despise intellectually, someone who the city would be better off without. Gaedren Lamm has personally done something to ruin each and every one of your lives. And he’s always, always gotten away with it. That's about to change. Gaedren Lamm is about to die. And you’re going to be the ones to put a knife into his back. ------------- Newport Blues is a 13th Age game for a small group of active players, most likely 4 with a slight possibility of going up to 5. I'm intending to keep this game moving at a good clip come hell or high water, and I'd like to get players who are as invested in that as I am; obviously life happens but staying in communication will be helpful. I'm intending to run this game as a pseudo-PbP game with a high level of back and forth and player involvement; this means that people who aren't available to come onto IRC to at least idle and talk about the game will not be considered; the channel for the game is #newportblues on irc.synirc.net. I'm also looking into alternatives places/ways to run the game, which I'll talk about with whoever gets in once I make my determinations. I've screwed around with the setting quite a bit already; there's a summary at the bottom of this post, but more detailed information can be found HERE. I'll be adapting setting elements to what the players are interested in, but working within some kind of a boundary can be a good way to spark creativity, so I'm using this as the base point. Character creation is standard 13th Age with the following exceptions:
Anything from 13th Age or 13 True Ways is fine. Content from the 13th Age homebrew thread may or may not be allowed; go ahead and ask if there's something you want to use. Glorantha classes from the playtest are also provisionally fine, but I'll look them over more carefully if anyone wants to use them. I'm very open to reflavoring so pitch me whatever you'd like with whatever class you'd like. ------------- ONE UNIQUE WAY GAEDREN LAMM hosed YOU OVER Gaedren Lamm is going to be a large part of your character’s backstory - not the whole part, but a large part. Exactly how he hosed you over functions as a small version of a One Unique Thing. You don’t have to tie this into your One Unique Thing directly but it may be helpful to do so. It's worth mentioning that Gaedren Lamm, for all his faults, isn't randomly malicious; he's always trying to get something. That something might be a favor for someone else while he ruins you, but he's always got some kind of purpose - be it ever so petty, malicious or cruel, he's got a reason for doing what he's doing. A few examples of the kind of man Lamm is; any of these would be appropriate for your character to use, and can be combined or mixed around with any other unique character elements you wanted to incorporate: “I was one of the Lamm’s Lambs until I botched a job. Gaedren beat me half to death and left me to die in the streets, and that’s where I made my pact with the Gambling Man to get revenge.” “I was the frontman for a one-hit wonder band that toured the Empire. Our lead guitarist got shivved in Newport and we broke up, but I’ve always wanted to find whoever killed him.” “I am a half-dragon half-viking half-werewolf who was adopted by Gaedren Lamm, and by ‘adopted’ I mean ‘he chained me up in one of his drug houses as a guard dog-dragon-viking’. I got free eventually and vowed revenge.” “I am the bastard daughter of The Queen Who Is. After my father was disgraced, I went to Newport to make my fortune. And I had it in my hands for about five minutes before that fucker shanked me from behind.” “Gaedren Lamm? Him bad. Me crush with ogre fists. It be all ogre.” ------------- ICONS I’ve rewritten large portions of the default 13th Age Icons, some of which are mostly still the same (Elf Queen, Dwarf King) and some of which I gave significant changes to (Emperor, Lich King, Diabolist). The following is a quick overview of each of the new Icons, what they replaced, and some quick references. More detail for each icon is found here.
RPZip fucked around with this message at 01:56 on Aug 27, 2015 |
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Aug 22, 2015 04:00
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NEWPORT NEWS 10 Things about Newport The Prince of Newport, Eodred the Fourth, is dying. He’s an old man, so this isn’t much of a shock. He hasn’t been an especially effective ruler for Newport, but he’s spent enough of the public treasury on lavish improvements to the city that he’s generally regarded positively. His wife, Princess Ileosa, is horrendously unpopular. Hailing from distant Axis, the seat of the Empire, she’s regarded as a foreign invader by many of the locals. The fact that she was half the king’s age when they married has also given her the charming sobriquet of “the Prince’s Whore”, although by all direct accounts they are actually in love. Nobody knows what will happen when old Eodred does die, but it’s unlikely to be good. The drug shiver (note the italics) is extremely popular in the city. Made from the distilled venom of dream spiders, it’s a popular local drug that’s extraordinarily addictive. The drug induces extremely vivid, lucid dreams during which the dreamer can experience anything they can imagine, but during their sleep their body shakes and shivers which gives the drug its name. Gaedren Lamm’s “Lamm’s Lambs”, which he always says with a throaty, nasty chuckle, aren’t the only gang of thieves in Newport. Most of the older Lambs who manage to survive his rough treatment eventually graduate to one of the more organized gangs in the city, usually either the Cerulean Society or one of its affiliated guilds. The Cerulean Society actually has legal standing to operate in the city, the only guild that does. According to the city charter, ‘no guild or union shall be formed in the pursuit of lawful business’, which is a loophole the Cerulean Society has driven a behemoth through. To say that the merchants and tradesmen are annoyed by this is a tremendous understatement. The guild runs several protection rackets in the city, charging sometimes arbitrarily high or low prices to different institutions in order to pressure them to change this policy or that. The thieves even have a uniform, bright cerulean blue, that provides them their name, the Cerulean Society. If a prospective client fails to make their protection payments, they’re added to a list of legitimate targets which is then distributed to the guild’s collection of affiliated cat burglars, second-story men and simple armed thugs. Interference from the edges of the Empire’s wards and the sorcerous protection of the Lady in Blue mean that there’s a spectacular light show almost every night above the city, the sweeping colors of the aurora polialis being a popular nighttime attraction. Almost every fancy restaurant in the city has a popular rooftop eating area to take advantage of the sights. The recently appointed head of the city guard is a woman named Cressida Kroft, a no-nonsense beat cop who’s managed to work her way up to very top of the guard’s hierarchy. She’s known as a tremendous workaholic and a hard-rear end, but she’s only just recently assumed the post so she hasn’t had a chance to either be crushed by the system or to find her way around it enough to be able to institute real change. The underworld is waiting to see which way she’ll go with baited breath. And baited daggers. The City of Newport was founded after the destruction of Highport during an especially dark time several hundred years ago, mostly by refugees from the city. Highport eventually became Drakkenhall, the city of monsters, and is currently under the protection of the Lady in Blue. Her part in the destruction of Highport originally is, of course, not a topic of polite conversation amongst anyone who could possibly report such slanderous accusations back to her. People who say things like that have a tendency to be found floating in a river. Without a head. Burned to a crisp. The Hellknight has a large presence in Newport. This may seem surprising, given how extensive the underworld can be in the city, but the Hellknight doesn’t care so much about the law part of law and order; he just wants order. Newport is useful as one of the most distant places in the Empire, and therefore somewhere as far from the watchful eye of the Queen Who Is that you can get while still being nominally in her territory. The city guard has a solid but distant working relationship with the Hellknights, and they tend to see them as a tactical nuke - useful to have, but not something you want to use in a place you live. Point them at a target and they’ll root out any criminals, and any civilians, and any buildings in a block-wide radius. Newport’s existence on the edge of the magical barriers of the Empire and the Lady in Blue also mean that it’s an ideal place to study magic. Trying to perform delicate magical experiments inside the powerful arcane fields that those two powers represent is like trying to learn to swim in a tornado; you might manage it, but you’re going to end up dizzy, confused, and you’ll probably have to kill something green and ugly that doesn’t react well to water to get home again. The Acadamae is the foremost academic institution that isn’t under the direct control of one of the icons, although most of them have some kind of a hand in its running. Competition inside the institution is cutthroat, which is only a metaphor insofar as wizard academics wouldn’t resort to anything so pedestrian as a knife when a howling portal to the abyss will do. RPZip fucked around with this message at 04:13 on Aug 22, 2015 |
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Aug 22, 2015 04:10
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 Name: Zane Magnusson (aka Magnus) Race: Human (Dark Elf Racials) You want to know about me? Sure, that's fair enough. No, we've never met before. I have no idea why my face is familiar. I get it a lot, I have one of those faces. Anyway, I graduated a couple years ago, put out my shingle solving problems for people. Never had much taste for the academic world, and I've done things to get through school maybe I'm not so proud of, but school didn't pay for itself. Maybe school wasn't my first choice, but I did all right. Graduated near the top of the class. Had to fight for a scholarship, aced all the practicals. No worries there, I got the chops to get things done. Couldn't go back, had to go forward. You can see the diplomas, the awards, in that case over there. Most of the awards, anyway. Most of them. What did you need me to do, anyway? pre:Name: Zane Magnusson (aka Magnus)
Race: Human (Dark Elf Racials)
Icons
The Queen Who Is [1] - Positive (I did pretty well in school, made the Dean's list, the whole bit. I
said I wasn't into it, not that I wasn't good at it.)
The Gambling Man [2] - Conflicted (I may have made some promises to get that hit.)
OUT: Once the dynamic frontman of the Piss Vicars, an Axis tavern band that enjoyed brief popularity with
a one hit wonder before Lamm stole our earnings and hosed us over, thus forcing the band to break up and
me to go back to wizard school.
HP: 24/24 (8 Recoveries) (Hey, I work out.)
Init: +3
AC: 13 (Light Armor, an overcoat with padding in some places and a lot of pockets)
PD: 13
MD: 13
Weapon: Dagger in Boot (1d4), Staff (1d6) It has a knob on the end, Dueling Sword (1d8) An Affectation!
Cash on Hand: 30gp
Backgrounds
Self Trained Hardboiled Private Detective [+4]
Still Hits The Gym [+2]
Ex-Rock Star. No, Seriously. That Was Me. [+2]
Arcane Academics [+2] Taken from Further Backgrounding, does not apply to stats.
Feats: Further Backgrounding (A)
Traits
Cantrip Mastery
Winson's Incorrigible And Unrelenting Polysyllabic Assault on Dungeon Master Patience Arcana
High Arcana
Racial - Twist the Knife: Once per battle, deal ongoing damage to a target you hit with a natural even attack roll as a free action. The ongoing damage equals 5 times your level.
Spells
Utility: NO MAN CAN SAY
At Will: Magic Missile (Auto Hit, 2d4 Damage)
Cyclic: Color Spray (+5 to hit vs. MD)
Daily: Charm Person
Daily: Blur
Winson_Paine fucked around with this message at 04:39 on Sep 3, 2015 |
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Aug 22, 2015 04:34
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Sorraza Dragon's Daughter, Dragonic Sorcerer  OUT: I am the one true daughter of the Three, but Gaedran Lamm has ensured that I am the laughingstock of society and shamed my monster friends, so I must take draconic vengeance on him. In Drakkenhall, Sorraza is beloved. The Lady in Blue, the Lady in Black and the Lady in Red all share in her parentage - the Triple Child, born from the mixing of three colors and raised on fire, lightning and darkness. In Drakkenhall, she is a princess of the monsters. In Drakkenhall, she is the dearest child of high society. She was taught a mastery of the arts of her three parents, and to cherish their values: Power, subtlety and knowledge. And so, she though, it would be a simple task to come to Newport. She had grown up on adventure stories of the far reaches and the borders, on the novels published about the heroes of the reaches. Then she got there, and found that not everyone was happy to have a dragon join high society. The monsters had angered Gaedran Lamm when she arrived. They had been moving to clean up their streets. But do that, they needed noble allies. Sorraza could have gained them, with her cheer and the skills taught her by her parents. With the silver tongue of the Lady in Black, she'd have made friends. With the iron fist of the Lady in Red, she'd have gotten them to agree to help. With the cunning mind of the Lady in Blue, she'd have made sure the plan worked. So she was never given the chance. Gaedran Lamm shamed her before her peers. He drugged the drinks in the monster taverns, and on the day she arrived, Sorraza ended up in the middle of the worst drunken riot that Little Drakkenhall had ever seen. By the end of it, her dress was ruined by minotaur vomit, three houses were burned down by angry kobolds high on shiver and not a nobleman in Newport would so much as speak to her. The thieves' dens in Little Drakkenhall were secure - while the monsters might drive them out for a time, they'd never get rid of them without the help of money, law and landlords. Sorraza has vowed vengeance, for the sake of her monster friends, the honor of Drakkenhall and, for a dragon must always have three reasons, to show that a dragon is never to be trifled with. quote:Backgrounds: Dragons' Daughter 4 (I am born a dragon, and a dragon's powers are great.), Princess of Monsters 3 (Do you think that softskinned peoples are the only ones with nobility? The monsters are my people.), Adventure Novel Addict 1 (Anyway, I'm going to be a great hero who rescues those in distress and swings from chandeliers, just like my favorite novels!) I refluffed Metallic Protector because Chromatic Destroyer is absolutely awful. Really, you could combine the two completely and it'd be fine. Also, advice for house rules: Breath of the White and Breath of the Green start to really, really suck as they level, which sucks because they're cool. They can be fixed, though, by adding +1 to the number of people they target each time they get level-bumped. (So +1 at level 3 for the White, for example, and +2 at 5. +1 at 5 for Green, and so on.) This causes them to mathematically work out to same-level breath spells in average damage, just spread out over more targets. Mors Rattus fucked around with this message at 01:28 on Aug 24, 2015 |
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Aug 22, 2015 05:27
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Lamb We remember our deaths. A knife in the back. Rotted away in a dungeon. Trapped in a noble's vault. Cut loose and left to starve to death in the streets. A dozen lives cut short, and Gaedren Lamm was our murderer. Our purpose has shattered the barrier between life and death. We do not remember our names - we gave up what we once were for this one chance. We do not do this for justice, or to find peace, or even to protect our living brothers and sisters. This is vengeance, and we swear that Gaedren Lamm will join us soon. OUT: Lamb is a bizarre amalgam of the spirits of a dozen or so of Lamm's Lambs, whose grudges do not appear to have ended with death. Icon Relationships The Queen Who Was, Conflicted 1: Lamb is a result of spontaneous necromancy, a rare thing that necromancers tend to take great interest in. Coin flip whether that interest will help or hurt Lamb in accomplishing their goals. Gambling Man, Positive 1: Lamb occasionally remembers bits and pieces of their past lives, and while those lives were short, they were heavily immersed in the criminal underworld. They know where the bodies are buried. Quite literally, since some of them are their own. The Three, Positive 2: Lamb has a strange mystical connection with The Lady in Black, or at least the new moon. They are not certain why, but they have not yet found reason to question it. Backgrounds: Lamm's Lamb +4 (+6): Lamm's orphan minions are expendable pretty crooks par excellence, and Lamb still retains some of the skills they had in life, albeit in fractured, dissociated form. This aids in theft, sneaking around, quick getaways, and other assorted crimes, as well as basic navigation of the criminal underworld. Spiritual Monstrosity +3: Lamb is not a creature of flesh and blood, but necromancy and hatred. This aids in weird spooky poo poo, like scaring people, communicating with the dead, or disrupting other necromancy. Hearts of Children +1: Not to put too fine a point on it, Lamb is made of a bunch of dead children. Despite being a ghost, that lends them a certain childlike perspective that they sometimes use. This aids in befriending, understanding, and predicting the behaviour of children, as well as tricking adults into thinking they are not a threat. pre:Lamb
Level 1 Bard
Backgrounds: +4/+3/+1
Basic attack: +5 (+1 Level, +4 Background)
HP: 24 (Base 7, +1 Background)
PD: 14 (Base 10, +1 Level, +3 Background)
MD: 16 (Base 11, +1 Level, +4 Background)
AC: 16 (Base 12, +1 Level, +3 Background)
Initiative: +2 (+1 Level, +1 Background)
Halfling Features
Small Size: Force an enemy attack to reroll, 1/battle.
Features
Bardic Songs: Area effects that help the party.
Battle Cries: Flexible melee attacks.
Talents
Jack of Spells: Steal a spell from another class.
Mythkenner: Raise background by +2. Gain additional icon die.
Spellsinger: Choose an additional bardic song or spell
Battle Cries
Pull it Together (11+): Nearby ally may use a recovery.
We Need You (Natural Even): Ally can roll a save.
Spells and Songs
Ghostly Manifestation: Ranged spell, triggers battle cries.
Ephemeral Aid: +1 attack bonus, 11+ to sustain.
Last verse: One ally gets +2 to next attack.
Intangibility: Enemies take -1 attack for every ally with more HP than you.
11+ to sustain.
Last verse: You or one ally may use recovery.
Colour Spray: Weakens enemies with 10HP or less.
Cantrips: Ghost Sound, Mage Hand, and Knock.
Feats
Jack of Spells: Use Primary background as spell ability score. Gain 3 cantrips.
Green Bean fucked around with this message at 04:37 on Sep 1, 2015 |
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Aug 22, 2015 05:43
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"I used to have a bar, back in the day, and it was the best drat bar in town - until that son of a whore Lamm came and smashed it up, then lit the place on fire. I escaped with only my life, but with my back to flames I stared into his gods damned face and that's when I knew - it's on." Logan  Dwarf Ex-Barkeeper (the one on the bottom, aye?) Backgrounds OUT: The Book of Vendetta is a singular heirloom that has been in the possession of the Dwarf Kings in the Dwarven Halls for generations. However, Logan has had it for the past twenty years, and Gaedren Lamm is the final entry in it... [+3] PD - (primary atk stat) Barrel-chested Body Builder Bartender - The rippling mighty thews do the talking! Do not even ask if he lifts. It is said that the only reason Logan did not rip out Lamm's spine the last he saw him was because he was in the middle of leg day. [+2] MD - (secondary atk stat, hp) The Salve and Poison - Enough liquor will solve everything, and encyclopedic knowledge of how to brew it is Logan's forte. [+2] Init - (AC) Blacksmith Poster Dwarf - After his bar turned to ashes, Logan took up a second career as a professional model for blacksmiths - proven month over month sales increases when a muscular dwarf wields a (demonstration) bastard sword with your maker's mark on it - guaranteed pre:Character Stats
| BASE | LVL | MOD | Total
---------------------------------+------+-----+-----+-------
Init | | 1 | 2 | 3
AC (light) | 12 | 1 | 2 | 15
AC (+shield) | 13 | 1 | 2 | 16
Physical Defense | 11 | 1 | 3 | 15
Mental Defense | 10 | 1 | 2 | 13
Hit Points | 7 | x3 | 2 | 27
Recoveries | 8 | | | 8
Recovery Dice | d10 | x1 | 2 | 1d10+2
The Dwarf King - Negative 2 - "No dwarf, not even the King himself, shall bar my path whilst I seek my vindication." The Dark Mother - Conflicted 1 - "It is well known that some of the more powerful brews are rendered from fluids from exotic creatures. This does not sit over well with the Echidna, but it cannot be denied that some children must be brought to heel, particularly if they start murdering villagers." Talents Drink Like A Myrmidon (Barbarian Rage) - The story goes, that a dwarf has something that lets them convert liquor directly into energy, typically for industrious use, but for a dwarven myrmidon, it is customary to turn liquor directly into violence. Friendly Arms (Barbarian Cleave) - It's said that the only thing bigger than Logan's chest was his propensity for hugging clientele twice his size in his mighty arms after they had come back from adventuring. So too does his impressive reach go for Logan's Brew #4, the Tombstone (Building Frenzy) - "Death came riding on a pale horse right on up to Logan's Flagon Wagen to have a pale ale!" It was agreed that Logan needed to hire a bard to come up with a better slogan than that for his house ale. Logan's Brew #7, Odinsbreath (Slayer) - "Guaranteed to put lightning in your boots!" Reputed to be harvested from a storm giant's tear ducts after a great battle, nobody really knows what's in the #7 except for Logan, and the exact recipe was lost in the fire. Its effects are widely known, though, which might explain why Lucien having a customary drink of the stuff before he raced in the Newport Pits made him undefeated. Gear Feats aldantefax fucked around with this message at 03:40 on Sep 4, 2015 |
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Aug 22, 2015 08:56
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Karnar Once I was a warrior, far outside of the empire. I had only heard it mentioned a few times, my people were simple and we lived so far away I would have lived my life without ever meeting someone from this place. Among my people I was a mighty warrior, my skills with axe or sword were unparalleled. Then I was taken during the night, changed into this strange creature that I cannot fight as any more. I walk among a strange land, and even stranger energy crackles from my fingers. I know who did this to me, but not why. But I will find my answers, and I will make that honourless thief pay for what he did to me as well. One Unique Thing: I am a human warrior from far away, but I was taken and changed by the Blue into a dragonic sorcerer. In my search to find out why, and maybe a way to go home and to what I was, Gaedren Lamm sold me out as part of some sort of conspiracy. I only just escaped with my life, and he will certainly not escape from me with his. Icon Relationships: The Three: Conflicted (1 Point) - The Blue did this to me, and the Black must have been involved somehow. They have a plan, and I'm a part of it, but I do not know what it is or what they would want me to do...or if I would even do it. The Queen Who Is: Conflicted (2 Points) - The Blue's actions have not gone unnoticed, the Queen and her forces are watching me. I am sure they don't trust me, but they might help me out if the situation is right. Backgrounds: Warrior Chieftain of a Faraway Tribe [+3]: As the greatest warrior of my people, I was the one who was destined to lead. I know of the fears in the hearts of men and women that can lead them to falter in battle, or to fight amongst each other. And I know how to conquer them. A Raider who Travels by Sea [+2]: My people are the scourge of the sea. While this Dragon Empire might have strange boats that are much larger, I can see the things we do the same and I can see their sailors know to read the weather and the stars to guide them away from land. Hunter of Beasts and Men [+3]: There is not a great deal of farm land for us, and so my people live off of the land and the creatures that walk upon it. I can forage, hunt and fish to feed myself and teach another. And many of these skills can be used to track and kill another man or woman, should the need arise. pre:HP: 24 RECOVERIES: 8 RECOVERY: 1d6+5 AC: 15 PD: 13 MD: 12 INIT: +3 MELEE: +3 RANGED: +3 CLASS FEATURES BREATH WEAPON DANCING LIGHTS GATHER POWER TALENT: CHROMATIC DESTROYER METALLIC PROTECTOR SPELL FIST FEATS: BURNING HANDS ADVENTURER: Once on a miss, deal fire damage equal to any dice that rolled max. SPELLS: BREATH OF THE WHITE BURNING HANDS LIGHTNING FORK RESIST ENERGY GEAR: 21GP SPEAR CLOTH ARMOR RAIN CLOAK SIMPLE CLOTHING WOOL BLANKET HiKaizer fucked around with this message at 09:37 on Sep 5, 2015 |
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Aug 24, 2015 01:59
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http://forums.somethingawful.com/showthread.php?threadid=3737861&pagenumber=1#post449450502
Captain Walker fucked around with this message at 17:54 on Aug 26, 2015 |
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Aug 24, 2015 19:00
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 Jove "Mister Mudfoot" Labeau, Gnome Necromancer Hailing from a small town located where the plains and farmlands of the Empire met the edge of the Wild Woods, Jove Labeau was born with a natural skill for arcane magic. Fascinated by the disturbances created by Newport's intersecting wards, he entered the city several years ago as a wide-eyed scholar, eager to research the aurora polialis in person. One night while observing the magical light show, he happened to hear a commotion coming from a nearby alley. Upon investigating, the gnome was horrified to discover a dead guardsman with a dagger protruding from his throat. At that moment, someone shouted "Murderer!" and pointed at him. Within the hour the bewildered gnome found himself the primary suspect, and when several locals stepped forward to personally identify him as the murderer, Jove was clapped in chains and thrown into the local prison the very next day. Jove spent years in Newport's jail for a crime he didn't commit, and all those years of seething resentment at his unjustly imprisonment gnawed at the scholar's morality. He redoubled his research into the magical wards of the Empire, but now with a darker bent. It was almost by accident that he stumbled upon the secrets that would allow him to tap into the oldest, most dangerous wards of them all- those of the Queen Who Was. From prison, he cast a spell that sought out the citizens who testified against him and tore the truth from their heads, plaguing them with horrific nightmares in the process. One by one, they came forward to the city guard and confessed that they had all been bribed, and Jove was allowed to walk free. Though the city issued a public letter proclaiming his innocence, the gnome's reputation had already been shattered. He created a new identity for himself as "Mister Mudfoot", a fortune teller and trinket salesman who's bare, mud-covered feet became his trademark. Honing his magical skill under the guise of entertainment, Jove Labeau set his sights on getting revenge on the real murderer, the man who'd bribed those people: a man named Gaedran Lamm. Unique Thing: Jove has managed to tap into the magical wards of the Queen Who Was and draws on her power to cast his necromancy. How Jove Got hosed Over By Gaedran Lamm: Old Man Lamm framed Jove for murder, and the gnome spent several years in prison as a result. Icon Relations The Queen Who Is- 1 Conflicted. You can't put an innocent in prison and not expect a little lingering resentment. Though he's received an official apology from the city guard, Jove still carries a bit of a grudge towards the Empire. The Queen Who Was- 2 Negative. Jove is like a mosquito idly sipping away at the power of the Queen Who Was. He hasn't had any actual encounters with her or her agents yet, but as he grows in power and starts siphoning off more of her's, the Queen Eternal will likely be quick to react in turn. Backgrounds: Mister Mudfoot- 4: Jove's showman persona is that of the top-hatted skull-faced Mister Mudfoot. A common sight among the poorer sections of town, Mister Mudfoot is really a guise that allows Jove to hone his magical skill under the pretenses of entertainment. He puts on "Dancing Skeleton" shows and uses illusions to create barely-visible strings, for example. He could use these abilities to lie and obfuscate the truth, as well as put on a pretty good show. Arcane Scholar of the Wards- 2: Though he's twisted his talents to darker pursuits, Jove is still quite knowledgeable about the system of magical wards and protections that meet and mingle in Newport. He could use this knowledge to find a way around a magical lock, know which reagents make a Fireball spell burn hotter, and possibly discern the abilities of an enemy mage. Jail Bird- 2: Though ultimately innocent, years in prison can do a lot to change a person. Jove could use these talents to navigate the seedier side of town, find a shiver dealer, and where to find information that the Hellknights would want to keep secret. quote:HP: 30
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Aug 25, 2015 06:36
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Got the character figured out, just need to finish his build. Came up with something else instead.  Kelevra, "Well hey there, beautiful. What's a sweet looking gal like you doing in run-down bar like this? ... Ah, well, that's life, ain't it? Heh...Oh, me? Licking my wounds, I guess. Had a hit go sideways on me, first time I didn't take out the mark. ... Yea, I guess you could say that. 'Contract Killer', 'Hitman', though I prefer just plain 'Assassin'. ... Heh, not much reason to keep it a secret. Having a reputation helps business, and it's not like the fuzz are ever gonna catch me, even if they wanted to. ... Oh, of course. It's not just 'bad guys' who put out hits. You might be surprised how often they skirt the law for the 'greater good'. ... What happened? Bit of poor judgement and a crooked bastard called Lamm. ... Yea, Gaedren Lamm, that's him. See I'd been hired to kill this shiver dealer out in the west end; trouble was, I couldn't find him. So I pay Lamm a bit of coin to help me out, tell where he is, y'know? Well, wouldn't you know it, bastard goes behind my back, lets the guy know I'm coming, and helps squirrel him away for a cut of his profits. I mean I'll grant him, it's a clever turn, but drat if I'm gonna let him get away with both double-crossing me and ruining my perfect record! ... What 'wolf thing'? Oh, right, duh. Guess I'm just used to it now. Long story short, I had a run-in with the Gamblin' Man & lost. As far as curses go it's not too bad, I guess. Just have to keep to the shadows, or the edge of the Empire. Can't really blend into a crowd otherwise, y'know? ... How'd I get into it? Y'mean 'the business'? Dumb luck I guess, really. After the whole curse thing, there weren't a lot of places to go, so I ended up bouncing around the outskirts scraping by. Anyway, to keep it short, I did really well on a couple of jobs for the Lady in Blue, and Miss Black kinda took me under her wing. Figuratively, I mean. Although, if you're keen on the details, maybe we could take this conversation someplace a little more...private?" quote:Kelevra, Human Rogue Mk, numbers done. Should be able to find me on the IRC channel for questions/concerns/comments. Generic Octopus fucked around with this message at 14:49 on Aug 26, 2015 |
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Aug 25, 2015 14:41
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 "Listen, I'm just a simple man who tried to live his life doin' the right thing, and now look where it's got me." "For as long as I can remember, I been seein' spirits. Most of them got unfinished business here on the mortal plane, and they look to me to finish it for them. Most often, they just wanna make sure the ones they left behind know they're loved, maybe they got a few choice last words for a lover who scorned 'em. Sometimes the unfinished business is even a little dangerous, and they got me huntin' down a murderous business partner or recoverin' their bones from some kinda animal's lair. All that's all good. I do right by the spirits and they do right by me, helpin' me survive out in the wilderness alone, maybe tellin' me about a secret stash they buried for a rainy day that's never gonna come for them. Sometimes though, the spirits want somethin' really dangerous done. Hunt down a band of wild outlaws, win back a family artifact from the Gamblin' Man, nossir, Mr. Spirit, you can find someone else to help you with that one." "So that's been my life for, oh, 'bout four decades now. It's been a fairly simple one, and that's how I like it. Wanderin' from place to place, helpin' out the spirits where I could. And then I wander my way into Newport. Hoo boy. This...this tidal wave of spiritual angst just washes over me. I ain't never felt anything like it in all my years. Hundreds and hundreds of dead spirits and they're all screamin' the same name. I know, immediately, that this is the kinda unfinished business I don't wanna stick my nose in. Sorry Newport spirits, I tell 'em, y'all are on your own here. But they don't accept that, and there's too drat many for me to ignore. I make camp hours outside Newport and the spirits are just screamin' and hollerin' and pleadin' at me to help them, preventin' me from getting any kind of sleep." "Listen, I never even heard of this Gaedren Lamm fella before I came to Newport. Never seen him, never interacted with him. But the spirits of Newport have made something very clear. I don't get any rest until they do. And they don't get any rest until they get their revenge. And for them to get their rest, well, Gaedren Lamm must die. So if y'all are here to hunt him down, well, count me in." quote:Grayson, Human Seeker Edit: Melee attack adjusted as per below post. Flame112 fucked around with this message at 21:43 on Aug 25, 2015 |
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Aug 25, 2015 20:55
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God drat, seeing The Thing I Made outside of the Google doc like this is so drat gratifying Upon reflection, gimping seeker melee attacks as much as I did is dumb. Change that -4 to all melee attacks to -4 with heavy weapons, your hatchet is ok as long as it's a d6 weapon. Captain Walker fucked around with this message at 21:39 on Aug 25, 2015 |
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Aug 25, 2015 21:37
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Nivet Ararn, Back in Black (and Blue, and Red) Gaedren Lamm. Been, what, 30 years? Yeah. 30 years at least since I seen him. But I don't forget. Not one bit I don't. That's part of the price I paid. I remember everything. We grew up together, you know? Scrawny little gently caress, he was. We were a fuckin' riot as kids- me, big and strong and mean, and him, tiny and sneaky and cunning. I'd punch 'em out and he'd rob them blind. Once, when we were alone... well. We were the tightest of friends. The greatest. No one could come between us. Right? So we rose together. And then it was just us, and the Capo de Auua. We almost had it. If we could take him, we'd own crime in this town. It was always gonna be King Lamm, and Killer Ararn, but I was fine with that. I always let him do the thinkin'. I was better at breakin'. But rumors came out. The Capo had been seen at the Casino of Damnation. He'd won something. Something real nasty-like. Lamm and I- well, mostly Lamm. He did the thinkin', right?- decided the counter was for me to do the same. Not Lamm, he had some urgent business to hold the fort while I won. I shoulda seen it coming. But he was my friend of 20 years, right? He'd never do that. Not to me. Well. As you can see by the horns on my face, I lost. Sorta. I won power, but I lost my pretty face and my soul. I care more about the face, though. Wasn't using the fuckin' soul for anything. Ruined the plan, was the problem. You can't sneak a murderer (dats me) into a wedding if he looks like his mom hosed a goat while painted in tar. But there'd be other chances, right? All Lamm had to do was keep me hidden until we figured out a way to hide my new problem. Easy. But apparently that was too risky. So yeah. He sold my rear end out like a 2-copper whore. The local jackasses got reinforcements from the magistrate and boom. 30 years an "experiment" for the loving magi. 30 years of chains and gruel and indignities too many to count (at least they did teach me what "indignity" means.) Until the place got overrun by orcs (thanks for that, orcs,) and finally, I was free. 30 long years. I'm gonna take every last one out of his hide. Slowly. And then.. well. I'll see if I can wager someone else's soul. For my face back. gently caress the other stuff. OUT: I gambled myself for the gambit that almost put Gaedren Lamm on top, and he threw me away like trash. Now I'm back. Icons: The Queen Who Is (Negative, 2) "gently caress that, gently caress her, gently caress her mages, gently caress her police, gently caress it. After Lamm maybe I'll set the magistery on fire." The Gambling Man (Conflicted 1) "He's got some of my poo poo, but to be honest withya, he's the only person in this whole loving mess that didn't tell me no lies." The Dark Mother (Positive 1) "Them orcs is tough mothers. Their momma must be too. I guess they liked me, 'cause they left me alone... So I owe 'em a favor. Dunno why, but unlike certain dead men I pay my debts." Backgrounds: +4/+2/+2 Magus Prisoner (+4) For 30 years (29 years, 9 months, and 5 days. If you want to get specific.) Nivet languished as a "special guest" of the magi of a remote tower. That's a lot of time to learn a little bit about magic and how it works. Especially the type that gets used on you. A lot. Very painfully. Enforcer Fugitive (+2) One thing you don't lose in jail is muscle and toughness. Nivet always had that since the beginning. He broke heads, he cracked skulls. It's been 30 years, but there are still a couple people left that remember that. And even if they don't, there's something about the way a skull-cracker stands. Crooks know it, because not knowing it means you end up dead. Got Around a Bit(+2) Nivet was pretty. He wasn't kidding. It's been 30 years, but there are probably ladies, and men, and some resultant kids, who still remember him. Kinda. And he can probably dredge up some of the old charm. Just gotta find someone into horns. pre:Basic attack: +5 (+1 Level, +4 Background) HP: 30 (Base 8, +2 Background) PD: 16 (Base 11, +1 Level, +4 Background) MD: 13 (Base 10, +1 Level, +2 Background) AC: 16 (Base 11, +1 Level, +4 Background) Initiative: +3 (+1 Level, +2 Background) Racial Power Bonus Curse of Chaos Once per battle as a free action when a nearby enemy rolls a natural 1–5 on an attack or a save, turn their roll into a natural 1 and improvise a further curse that shows how their attempt backfires horribly. A curse should have about the same impact as a typical once-per-battle ability. For example, a typical curse might lead to the cursed attacker dealing half damage to themself with their fumbled attack and being dazed until the end of their next turn. The GM may reward storytelling flair and/or limit the suggested effects of the curse. Stalwart Features: Greatness Greatness represents the belief in your power during the ups and downs of battle. Many of the stalwart’s powers function only when the stalwart has greatness. Greatness is either on or off– you either have greatness, or you don’t. The default is that you do not start a battle with greatness. You gain greatness when you are hit by an enemy attack. You lose greatness when you miss all enemies with an attack. You also lose greatness when you become unconscious, and when a battle ends. The default is that you can use greatness powers without losing greatness, but a few powers specify that you must spend your greatness to use them. You don’t have to use attacks that require greatness against the foe you hit to gain that greatness. Greatness powers that do not require you to spend your greatness are generally classified as interrupt actions. You can only use one interrupt action a round, which keeps your greatness powers from dominating the battle. Empowered by Fate You gain 1 relationship point; you choose whether the point is positive, conflicted, or negative. This point can add to your normal relationship points but you can’t exceed the normal relationship maximums with it. (Remember that positive relationships with villainous icons like the Lich King or the Three are limited to 1 point). When an ally rolls a 5 or a 6 on an icon relationship roll with the Icon(s) this feature gave you a relationship point with, start the next turn in battle with greatness. Choice: Strength of Many You can lift twice and support about as much weight as two otherwise identical creatures normally can, and can move normally while carrying about your own weight (or twice your weight total). You also gain the use of power stunt. Power stunt: At the start of each battle, roll a d6. Any time after the escalation die reaches that number, you’ll be able to use a quick action to spend your greatness and execute a power stunt. Normally you can only use power stunt once per battle, but circumstances, geography, or excellent planning may suggest that you can pull it off more than once. Power stunts are improvisational effects that play off your preternatural strength. Things like muscling an enemy out of your may or leaping over the head of that enemy, knocking a stalactite onto your opponent, forcing a foe onto a soggy patch of ground that slows them down, wedging your enemy’s sword into a stone floor, busting open a barrel of lamp oil into the eyes or under the feet of incoming foes, shaking the tree that brings the sniper that thought he was out of reach crashing down to earth, etc. Power stunt effects are something any strong character might be able to accomplish, except you do not to make a check while using power stunt. Gaining increased strength by spending feats on this feature may allow you to describe more incredible effects for power stunt, affecting more or larger foes. Unarmed Attacks Stalwart unarmed attacks are light/simple weapons that do 1d6 plus any applicable modifiers. Stalwart Talents LIMBS OF IRON You use Primary rather than Secondary when determining AC in no armor, when making ranged weapon attacks and when using stalwart powers. TITAN GRAPPLE You can grab a creature using the normal grab rules, with a successful strength+level vs. PD attack as a standard action. WEAPONS OF GIANTS You wield, forge, or improvise oversized weapons. While you have greatness, increase your weapon and unarmed damage dice by one step. Known Powers: HORIZON THROW Ranged attack At-will Special: When the escalation die is even, you may use this power while unarmed (having picked up an appropriate rock etc.) using your unarmed damage. You may also use this attack at any time with a melee weapon you are holding… but it doesn’t return to you unless it would normally do so. Target: One far away enemy Attack: +2 + level vs. AC. Hit: Weapon + 2 + 2 damage. Miss: Damage equal to your level. CATCHING MICE Melee attack At-will Quick action, requires greatness Target: One creature Attack: +4 + Level vs. PD. Hit: You grab the target. Special: You may use this power as a free action when an enemy attempts to disengage from you, by spending your greatness. GIANT STRIKE Melee attack At-will Target: One non-staggered non-mook enemy Attack: +4 + targets Level vs. AC Damage: WEAPON + 4 + 2 Damage. Miss: Damage equal to your level. INDOMITABLE Greatness power At-will (once per round) Interrupt action; requires greatness Trigger: You are subjected to a condition, or an effect a save can end. Effect: Roll a saving throw. On a success, you are not subjected to the condition, or you save against the effect. Special: You may use this power when first subjected to a last-gasp effect, to make a free saving throw against it. Feats: Titan Grapple Adventurer Feat: If you wish, you move and are moved when grabbed or grabbing as if you were one size larger. K Prime fucked around with this message at 03:10 on Sep 1, 2015 |
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Aug 26, 2015 04:59
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Withdrawn.
Potsticker fucked around with this message at 20:43 on Sep 8, 2015 |
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Aug 26, 2015 09:09
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Yen'shareh'jie "Yen" Dia'n'kiel "You've heard the stories of the fine lords and ladies, but what about their servants and slaves? You've heard about those nasty drow villains always trying to ruin things, but what about all we have done to ensure peace, all we could create if we weren't looked down on? Elven culture is stagnant, dying. All power rests in the hands of those motherless "nobleborn," the fair and proper. Well, gently caress that! Even the mighty can fall! When we are denied, when everything is taken and power is given only to the few, there is only one solution!" The elves have always been stratified. Everybody hears the stories of the fine and noble lords and ladies, but nobody hears about the common folk who make that wine and put that food on the table. Even worse, when an individual elf lives last several generations, social change may as well be a dream. Born a commoner, die a commoner. In fact, the only thing lower then a proper elven commoner, it's thought, is a drow. So low on the hierarchy they're underground (at which point the inbred nobles start chuckling into the backs of their hands). You can guess where drow commonfolk end up. Not this one though. It isn't known what set her off. Maybe someone she cared about died. Maybe she was finally pushed too far. Maybe a smiling man, hands twinkling with coin and a pair of dice, told her there could be another way. Regardless, down amongst the worms and fungi, one drow woman decided: no more. She rallied others to her banner, mostly other commoners, but also a few nobles with thoughts of backstabbing her or using the rebellion to grow their own power (foolishly assuming they'd be spared in the end). As it grew, even the other elven races began to follow her, other commoners who were tired of being stepped on and abused. The year before the revolution began, it was unthinkable for an elven noble to even be harmed, much less killed. By the end, she had made her point in blood: even the mighty can fall. Even the mightiest. Elven society was diseased. Sickened. She had her own vision. No more masters, no nobles, no kings - and that included the biggest King of them all. There was only one solution. They almost made it. He saw her, in the end - looked her right into the eye. The Erlking's palace itself is where they had their great last stand. Maybe that's why she lived - the elves have always been capricious, and he was their figurehead. Or maybe it was a mistake, or in that last minute her heart grew cold and she fled. Or maybe someone took her there, betting double or nothing. Either way, she ended up in Newport. Geographically it was about as far away from the Erlking as you could get - far enough to lick her wounds, begin rebuilding, and return to finish the job. This city was ripe for some proper anarchy - she even had a few crew members who already lived here. Except someone had taken them all out by the time she arrived. Someone had robbed them, beaten them, and in the end killed them. Every last one. Maybe it was coincidence. Maybe not. Maybe he just hated elves. Maybe he just saw them as easy targets Doesn't matter. Someone earned themselves a nice dollop of revenge. And now she knows who. One Unique Thing: Lead a Magnificent Rebellion Against the Erlking - and Lived to Try Again How Yen Got hosed Over By Gaedran Lamm: He killed all my crew! quote:Yen'shareh'jie "Yen" Dia'n'kiel NOTE: GENERAL AVAILABILITY As this game is sorta PBP and sorta not, I thought I'd list when I'm available. All times PST. M-F I work ~2:30-6:30, usually getting dinner between 7-8. Saturdays I tend not to be available for varied reasons. Other then that, I'm usually able to be in IRC. I lean more towards being up late rather then waking up early, but that's not exactly set in stone. ProfessorCirno fucked around with this message at 10:31 on Aug 26, 2015 |
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Aug 26, 2015 09:48
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 Eleniel - Wood Elf Cleric Elvish religion lacked any sort of grand unifying creation myth or pantheon of gods in eternal conflict. There was no worry over events millenia ago that might not have ever happened. It instead focused on the Three By Three, nine major constellations and various minors encompassing the Sky, the Sea, and the In-Between, watchers of the world and unified in their distant, mostly silent protection. Born as The Herd constellation was waning and The Storm was approaching dominance, Eleniel was brought into this world as an elf blessed by the Signs. For one birthed between a sign of the Sky and a sign of the In-Between there is strong encouragement from elf parents to become an astrologian; interpreter of the stars, the literal bond between the knowledge above us and the life that surrounds us. As she approached maturity she took to the practice like a duckbear to water, dispensing fortunes to her people and learning the secretive elven rituals involved in directly invoking the power of the Signs themselves. As her experience grew, her clients began to spread beyond the layman hunters and weaponsmiths to mayors and nobleman until word of mouth spread to even the Erlking's ears. She was recruited a few months later as his Court Astrologian, after the previous died of a rapidly progressive illness. Eleniel spent several decades at her position, advising the King’s relatives and fellow advisers. The pay was good and the work was simple yet she felt her personal connection with the stars weaken as time continued to pass. In a rare move, she spoke to the Erlking alone and in an even rarer move, she asked another for advice. He had never been a strongly religious man, but he knew of the good things belief in the Signs had brought to his kingdom. After the discussion he instituted a High Missionary position and offered it to Eleniel. Instead of advising noblemen whose biggest worry was whether his wife had strayed with her closest servant, she would travel the Empire of Man in a mission of peace, helping the poor and hopefully doing her small part in easing tensions between the two races. After months of travel she eventually found herself settled in Newport, far and farther from her home, where only the most scholarly of scholars had even heard of the Signs. It was there she set up a temple to preach and heal and live in peace. After a decade or so however, she found very little peace left. She had a quiet devoted group of followers for such a large temple but outside of that, many humans became ambivalent or outwardly hostile towards her and her kind. Eventually on a night when The Alligator was at its strongest, a mob was formed, instigated by Gaedren Lamm and violently interrupted a temple holiday, ransacking the place of worship. Eleniel was forced to flee in the night off into the woodlands nearby, abandoning her flock as they stayed behind to protect her. Years passed and she had become a hermit within the forest, building a small treehouse and living off the land. She would not let herself return home a failure, and so stayed in self-imposed exile. Travellers would occasionally cross her path, where she insisted that they stay for food and a fortune reading in exchange for information of Newport. One particularly knowledgeable young man told her of her old temple when asked, noting the Lamm’s Lambs constantly entering and leaving at all hours of the day, all but bragging about their involvement in robbing and evicting her. Lamm himself had even been seen spending a suspicious time there, likely making it some kind of new base of operations. rendezvous point, or something even worse. The following night, for the first time in decades she found herself scared after reading the stars. But the Signs had spoken. Lamm is a disease on Newport, spreading violence and crime and hate all to satisfy his greed. Eleniel’s herd must be avenged, the storm must begin. Gaedren Lamm must die. code:
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Aug 26, 2015 12:16
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 Chance, the Occulist OUT: I made a device that gives the wearer visions of future and the worlds beyond our own. Lamm has it. In Axis, they called me mad. Mad! My theories about the moons being the source of the overworld's magic, and by extension all arcane power, may have been unorthodox, but they were far from meritless. Why, I've proven it! I spent years conducting experiments in Newport to perfect these Moonglasses, powerful spectacles that channel the power of the moons through the user's central nervous system! Just because it takes an incredibly powerful will to wear them without being driven mad, doesn't mean they don't work! I need merely bring them back to Axis and be vindicated in the eyes of my colleagues! Or so I thought, until I was ambushed by a gang of ruffians on my way through a particularly seedy alleyway. I donned the Moonglasses for the first time, hoping to use its power to best my attackers, and was overwhelmed with visions of myriad realities. I'm embarrassed to say I passed out, and awoke in a ditch with my possessions taken from me. But the Moonglasses worked, drat it! Why, even now their power flows through me, giving me visions of the hooligans who took my greatest creation! I can vaguely see the cretins squabbling over them in their lair! And their leader, a truly vile old man. His name is Gaedren Lamm, and he is just the sort of dangerous man who cannot be allowed to have the Moonglasses! Why, if he ever works up the courage to put them on, there is a 87.5% chance he will survive and use them to conquer the city, and possibly the world! He cannot be suffered to live, nor to hold on to my creation! Gaedren Lamm must die! The cosmos demand it! pre:Chance, Tiefling Occultist HP 18/18 AC 15 PD 11 MD 17 Init +4 Attack +5 Damage +3 Powers Better Yet, Here Moment of Karma [ ] Brilliant Comeback [ ] Inevitable Fall [ ] Curse of Chaos (1/battle) Backgrounds +5 Lunatic Scholar (using the power of the moons, mad science, arcana, tinkering) +3 Cosmic Gambler (tempting fate, convincing people of things that may or may not be true in this reality) +0 A Little Bit Out Of This World (dummy background for DTAS) Features, Talents, Feats Feature: Delayed Magical Healing Delay magical healing by one round Talent: Brain-Melting Secrets When I hit, one target can't attack me during its next turn Talent: Icon Envoy One ally gets one automatic icon 5 (unless they roll 6) Talent: Unwinding the Soul On 11+ hit, one target is vulnerable to my attacks until end of battle Talent: Warp Flesh If enemy's MD is higher than PD, my spells target PD and deal force damage Feat: Brain-Melting Secrets (A) Works when I hit with any spell Captain Walker fucked around with this message at 03:33 on Aug 27, 2015 |
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Aug 26, 2015 17:53
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So I was looking at the Humakti in the 13th Age in Glorantha book and it seemed pretty interesting, but some of its features/powers rely on Wisdom or Constitution which means with the Str focus of the attacks it may require three stats at decent values, and I am not sure how that would interact with DTAS.
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Aug 26, 2015 20:04
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Many truths have shifted across the Ages, but one thing is eternal in its nature: quote is not edit.
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Aug 27, 2015 03:31
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Camwen "Ironthew" Greenlake “Way I see it; you have two choices, boy.” Camwen strained to look up at Gaedren Lamm from the floor, his left eye refusing to open. Lamm was cleaning his fingernails with a wicked knife. “You can stay here, and I am fine with that. Let no one say that I am not an accommodating man. And being an accommodating man, I will bring your mother down here and I tell you what I am going to do. I am going to use this knife on her. And these boys here? These boys of mine are going to make you watch until I am done.” The youth struggled against Lamm’s men, trying to get up, shouting wordlessly at him. His men put me down effortlessly and he saw stars and tasted copper. His teeth felt even looser than before, if possible. “Or, or you can be a good son and join the Legion. I hear that they’re gearing up for a campaign right now. A kid like you with fire in his guts could make his name in the Legion. See the world, kill some monsters, be a hero. Sound good?” The Greenlake Heir’s one open eye locked with Lamm’s murderously, but the villain is no stranger to such looks and matches the boy. “Boys, go get his mother—and a sheet. Don’t want to bloody my own damned floor, do we?” “No, no! I’ll do it!” he cried. “I’ll go.” Gaedren smiled that crooked smile of his. “I knew you’d see reason, boy. Make sure he finds his way to the recruiting station safely now why don’t you, gentlemen?” --- The smoke stings Camwen’s nose and the sounds of distant suffering caused him to shudder. Porvik, once a bustling river town, had been turned into a bloodied ruin. The wind changed and the smell of slaughter grew stronger, forcing the boy to lean against his spear for support. He tries to steady his mind, recalling a poem he had read once in his father’s study, a warrior’s hymn. He wondered, looking at Porvik, if the poet had ever seen a battle. “Greenlake!” cried his sergeant. “Stop lollygagging and help with these prisoners!” The youth snapped out of his daze and hopped into formation with his troop, escorting a party of captured savages to the Hellknight. They were a ragged bunch; tribesmen and women from beyond the reaches of the Empire, purportedly worshipers of the strange beasts deep in the untamed wilds of the world. True enough, they fought beside the creatures, with terrible fury if not much skill or discipline, and had been terrorizing the borderlands for some time before the Legion arrived to put an end to their attacks. Camwen never thought he would see anything as terrifying as the Great Beasts the Legion had slain in the past months, save perhaps for the men and women of the tribes who were nearly beasts themselves. The Hellknight had bivouacked by the former town hall of Porvik, which remained largely intact thanks to its stout timbers. He was an imposing figure, and just as every other time Camwen had come into his presence, he felt gripped with terror. This was a cold man. A great man, but the kind who would make a sleepy village his battlefield to gain advantage. This was a man who demanded nothing but absolute obedience and perfect execution of his commands. A man who had no reservations against condemning a thousand men to death if he could use their flesh and bone to skewer his foe. This man was the Empire’s shield and sword, and quite possibly the man standing between it and the hordes of monsters and savages who would see it brought to ruin. The great general barely registered the troop’s arrival, studying charts and consulting with his adjutants as he was. After a moment, he rose to inspect the prisoners. His expression was unreadable as he went from one captured warrior to the next. Camwen was uncertain what he could be looking for in all these savages. The commander had yet to find it in any of the other towns or battlefields. As the Hellknight came near the boy, one of his adjutants called to him, a message from the Queen had just arrived. In that moment of distraction, one of the prisoners stirred. A ragged man with a nest-like beard produced a knife. Where it could have come from, Camwen could not have guessed, but he could move, and he did so without a thought. His spear tore into the man’s guts and the dagger bit into the youth’s left arm. In an instant, he knew that it was no ordinary wound. He remembered how when he was a child, he had fallen into a pond by the Greenlake home and Hornsby had to pull him out. His arm felt like that now, cold and growing colder, deep into his bones. The world was going dark as he saw the Hellknight looming over him, sword high… When he woke, the Hellknight was beside Camwen. “Welcome back. It’s been a whole week. My clerics were not optimistic about your chances. I however, knew you would wake. You’re a warrior, boy. You are not the kind to die on your back. It is a shame though, that we could not save the arm.” Camwen reached to his left and found nothing. Terror gripped him. “Do not worry; I am not going to let you waste away in this bed. My artificers are working on something special for you.” His smile wasn’t at all reassuring. --- Camwen’s left arm ached, but then it had been aching the whole way to Newport. He held it out of habit, though it offered no real comfort. The arm was iron and the pain was in the arm that the Queen Who Was took. It often ached when violence was near and he had thought much of violence as he neared the city of his birth. Violence towards Gaedren Lamm, the bastard who had sent him into the Legion. Hornsby, the faithful servant of the Greenlakes, stood upon the docks to greet the young master, now a man tested by war. An old man, he wore a sorrowful expression. Fearful that he knew the answer, Camwen couldn’t bear to ask the meaning behind it and so Hornsby spoke the words that broke his heart; Lady Greenlake had taken ill and died, though the implication was clear. Lamm had murdered her. He reeled, nearly falling off the pier. How could a man be so cruel? He had been unrelenting in his attack on the House of Greenlake. They had no great armies, no mountains of gold or vast estates. Was it all out of malice? Or was he fool enough to believe the tales about the Babd’s Cache? Rage rose to replace shock. Every muscle in his body shook with the power of it, his iron arm straining against itself, creaking. He didn’t give a drat why Lamm did what he did. All he wanted now was blood. quote:Name: Camwen “Ironthew” Greenlake I Am Fowl fucked around with this message at 05:18 on Sep 7, 2015 |
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Aug 29, 2015 03:19
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 She wears red, but I do love the mask and my photoshop skills aren't good enough to make the outfit red so rolling with it. Music Two shining blades carve swaths out of the thin paper walls of the seedy wharf casino, opening the way for two small capped clay jars to tumble in and spew a sooty cloud of smoke. Panic is prompt – most denizens grab their coin and flee the gambling den. A handful of ruffians take up arms and move to surround one man in particular. The guests are not unexpected. “Gaedren Lamm! You've been…” A man’s voice cuts through din, echoing from somewhere beyond the smoke. “…an especially naughty one!” A woman’s voice rings out, with the same thick southeastern accent as the man’s. “We cannot allow you to…” “…continue your wicked ways!” The smoke begins to clear to reveal the pair, clad in matching red silks, faces hidden behind garishly stylized white masks, with red features depicting a cat's broad smile. Not terribly surprising, if one had heard the rumours coming from the south out of Brandywine, Costa del Brasso, and Vorpal Bay. When people in Newport had begun putting pairs of cat effigies in their windows, it was only a matter of time. Lamm had heard the call, too – he’d made preparations. His ilk rarely lived so long without at least an ounce of cunning. “On behalf of the citizens of Newport…” And both at once now, “…we’ve come to end this party!” Mirrored on both sides, a handspring, a flip and a flash of steel, disarming two of the dockworkers that served as security. Symmetrical strikes from the knee, a synchronized stomp to the ankle, and two of the toughs drop. The next two make half-hearted attempts but neither can match trained blades. Lamm knew this long before and had already made good his escape. ~ Music Lamm’s coach rips through the muddy Newport slum, making good pace until a diving figure descends from the rooftop of a tenement, slicing the reins with a whirling blade. A swift kick and warding glare sends the driver fleeing. A second pair of feet alight on the roof of the coach then flip neatly into the rain slick street. “You’ve run long enough…” “…surrender and ask mercy!” The door to the coach opens, Lamm’s gaunt visage appearing for just a moment before he leans back into his seat, making way for the other occupant. The carriage tilts and dips under the fellow’s weight as he emerges into the rain, a massive slab of an elf, taller and thicker than one would think possible for his kind. He doesn’t seem to mind the downpour that drenches his silver hair and cerulean silks, his face holding only a contemptuous sneer for the pair of masks. “<What is this? Two kittens, so far from their home. Are you lost, kittens?>” With a turn of his wrist, he pulls free the cloth cover from the tip of his weapon, revealing an ornately crafted spearhead adorned with a glorious flowing red plume. The two vigilantes exchange a quick look of uncertainty, all the words they need contained in a glance. The woman tightens her grip on her short blade, then acrobatically lunges from the driver’s seat as her brother dashes forward and makes a low swipe. The spearhead turns aside the woman’s soaring strike and man’s low swipe is thwarted when an unusually limber foot catches him in the mask. Retreating to lick their wounds, the twins circle the elf, watching his stance, eyeing his guard. The skirmish begins in earnest, the pair of cat-faced avengers nimbly evading sweeps and thrusts from the towering elf’s spear, their claws unable to find purchase upon the bodyguard’s hide, the whole display cast in the blue light of the aurora overhead as the storm clouds subside. Their dance is flawlessly coordinated, dramatic arcs of their long blades, sharp stabs of their short blades, driving in time with each other, but only serving to send a clanging symphony through the Newport streets when they’re diverted by the elf’s impeccable guard. Finally, the stalemate breaks. Lamm scrambles from the other side of the carriage and an artful flip brings one of the cats to stand atop the carriage. His sister is left scrambling to evade new pressure from the spearman, just able to save her own life by deflecting a thrust meant for her face. Atop the carriage, her brother raises his sword to bring it sweeping down on this petty criminal, cleanse the beleaguered city of this petty man. And then the elf drives home the spear, the tip biting hard into the woman’s left shoulder. He promptly yanks back his weapon, tearing flesh and earning an anguished cry – but the motion is dual-purposed and the butt of his spear strikes the brother and sends him tumbling from the coach into a roll onto the muddy ground. But he can’t find his footing and a cornered Gaedren Lamm proves not to be entirely helpless, setting upon the cat with a crooked dagger and the ferocity of hunted prey. Lamm’s pawing hand tears the cracked mask from Genjo’s face, eliciting a desperate cry from the other vigilante – in turn cut short when the elf’s ponderous hand seizes her by the throat. Genjo struggles to find his footing and his short blade in the muck while wrestling with Lamm, forced to abandon his long blade in order to fend off the craven’s crooked knife. But he’s at a disadvantage – even as he twists to turn onto his back, the knife dips lower. His sister’s strangled attempt at a scream punctuates the moment. The tip of the blade meets the skin at the top of Genjo’s collar, then dips further, slipping through skin painfully slow. Lamm grunts victoriously, smelling the end. Genjo’s breathing grows desperate. Again, the hilt sinks lower – more metal enters the boy’s throat, blood wells up around the wound, dripping around his neck and mixing with the filth and rain. It seems to go on for hours, the girl’s vision dims behind her mask, watching her brother’s struggle come to an end at last as Lamm’s blade pushes through and finds soil on the other side. Behind the laughing cat visage, a choked sob. And then the elf’s grip weakens as he gives a hearty chortle. The remaining cat swings a foot up, catching the spearman square in his brutish jaw, while her nail finds a vein in his wrist and drives hard, digging for a nerve. Once she’s dropped, she rolls through the muck, up to unsteady feet and then leaps down the roadside onto the roof of a tenement from further down the hillside. Another jump to another roof, and she’s free, disappearing into the streets of Newport. ~ “We need a hot meal and...” Rin looks down, lost in the woodwork of the seedy dive's counterop. ’drinks, a room for two.’ But nobody says anything. The innkeep frowns, looking the woman over. “…and?” She looks at him, torn out of her thoughts. “No meal. Just a room.” Unused to finishing her own sentences. Secluded in her room, alone for the first time in her entire life, Rin takes the mask from her rucksack. She looks over to the window, waiting for Genjo to start saying something. He doesn’t. Turning over the mask in her hand, she clenches it tight in her hands. Genjo was everything. There was no ‘I’, there had only ever been ‘we.’ She doesn’t know what to do. What to say. How to feel. How to be. What will happen to her. There’s only one thing Rin knows: Gaedren Lamm must die. Icons The Hellknight (1, negative) – The twins’ idea of vigilante justice is about as out of step with the Hellknight’s obsession for order as one can get. That they occasionally hunt similar prey does little to ameliorate the matter. The Gambling Man (1, positive) – Rin harbors a secret, selfish desire not to kill Lamm, but to have her brother back, and she would give something precious, or do something horrible, just for the knowledge of how she might accomplish that. In Costa del Brasso, she risked and lost. It cost a toe, a finger, a year of youth, just to spin the wheel. But fair play – given the chance, she may play again. After all, she still has plenty of bits and pieces left. The Queen Who Is (1, conflicted) – Rin’s deeds and exploits with her brother exposed criminality and corruption in four port cities of the Empire, often with far less bloodshed than expected, and a dash of mercy and good humour. While technically outlaws, the cats were something of folk heroes and agents of good in the Empire. Background La Kensinistra de Medishi [+4] – The Left Blade of Medishi, and part of a matched set. In Sull’acqua no Toshi, everything is an art – painting, dancing, cooking, accounting, masonry and even swordplay. All artisans must have a patron, and patrons are made both wealthy and poor by their artisans. So it is under the patronage of Pieroyuki de Medishi that Rin and Genjo, twin prodigies, became a prized matched set, as renowned for their acrobatics as for their actual martial skill. The Laughing Cat [+3] (+5) – The twins uncovered a terrible plot amongst the merchant houses of Sull’acqua no Toshi – and for their efforts, they were forced to leave their home. In their next home, in their next endeavor, they wore new faces. Experienced as performers, they could appreciate the power of a mask, of symbols, and a good show. Villains could be put down, but theatrical examples might sway the society that allowed them to flourish. Cultivating their myth, talking with the locals, moving in secret, they won both the fear of the enemies and the appreciation of the people, claiming status as folk heroes. The mask is a badge, the reputation is a tool. Lady from the City on the Water [+1] - Once upon a time, Rin and Genjo mingled amongst the high society of Sull'acqua no Toshi, a city in which decorum and status is arcane even by the Imperial capital's standards. While Rin was never belle of the ball, she does have some idea of how the well-to-do conduct themselves in business and while at play. This has rarely come into play since donning the mask, so she may be a little rusty. Thiefcatcher [+5] (from Tracker, no DTAS) – A sword is good. But exposing corrupt magistrates, bringing down kingpins of crime, those require a finer understanding of investigation, criminal enterprises, and the underworld. Even Gaedren Lamm was only to be a stepping stone for the Cats on their way to toppling the Cerulean Society, a single piece in a puzzle, before things went awry. pre:Rin, the last remaining Laughing Cat
Level 1 Ranger
Backgrounds: +4/+3/+1
Basic attack: +5 (+1 Level, +4 Background)
HP: 24 (Base 7, +1 Background)
PD: 15 (Base 11, +1 Level, +3 Background)
MD: 12 (Base 10, +1 Level, +1 Background)
AC: 18 (Base 14, +1 Level, +3 Background)
Initiative: +5 (+1 Level, +4 Background)
Human Features
Quick to Fight: At the start of each battle,
roll initiative twice and choose either result.
Bonus Feat: Start with two feats instead of one.
Features
Double Attack: Does not reduce Attack.
Talents
Tracker: +5 to Background, access to terrain stunt.
Lethal Hunter: Each battle, tag an enemy - increase crit range by 3(2+1).
Bravado: Each battle, pull off a crazy stunt!
Feats
Further Backgrounding: Laughing Cat +2
Lethal Hunter: Increase crit range by further +1
Equipment
Light Armor: Padded red silk, with leather guards
Martial One-handed Weapon: A finely-crafted ornamental curved Sullan long blade, worn from use.
Martial One-handed Weapon: A shorter straight blade matching the first.
Ranged Weapon, Simple: Neatly pointed daggers, crude and disposable. She uses a lot.
A wooden, bone-white mask with red markings, depicting stylized, garish, broad-mawed laughing cat.
A cracked wooden, bone-white mask with red markings, depicting stylized, garish, broad-mawed laughing cat.
A matched set of blades, identical to her own. Out of use.
A small coil of silk rope and climbing hook.
I Racconti del Makura, a novel
Other stuff as I think of it!
Attack: +5/1d8+4 Main Hand, +5/1d6+4 Off Hand, reroll on 2, attack again on even. Per Battle: Lethal Hunter, Bravado Terrain Stunt: Roll d6 at the start of battle, when escalation die reaches that #, use a quick action to deal terrain pranks like daze, stagger, 1d4*lvl damage. Ambivalent fucked around with this message at 05:51 on Sep 3, 2015 |
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Aug 30, 2015 04:50
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This took quite a bit longer to get through than I'd thought it would; there've been some excellent submissions so far and I've been really enjoying them! I'm likely going to keep recruitment open for another week to a week and a half, so if you're sitting on an idea get working on it. The sooner you get it in, the sooner I can take a look and start giving you feedback. WinsonPaine: Short and sweet. Sheet-wise it's missing a few things still, but I love the idea. What was the name of your one hit wonder? For extra bonus points, give me some lyrics to go with it and a critical analysis of why it reached the hearts of the people of the Empire. Mors Rattus: I addressed this in IRC, but just for anyone who wasn't there at the time: I don't mind refluffing class features if there's something else that you'd like, so using a different Draconig Heritage but calling it something else is perfectly fine. I'll deal with the scaling issues on breath feats if and when we get to a point where it'd matter. And now, for your question: Gaedren Lamm is, for all his awfulness, a bit player. He's not a mover, nor even a shaker. Who stood to gain the most from him ruining your reputation? Who traded in a favor to get you taken out of the picture? Green Bean: Definitely one of the more out there submissions. Lamb reminds me of the creepy ghost thing from Mask of the Betrayer, if you've ever played that. What would Lamb do if Gaedren died? If Gaedren lived, or was imprisoned, or otherwise punished? In other words, most people have a life - Lamb, by definition, doesn't. What happens when Lamb's vengeance is complete? aldantefax: I can see that you started a revolution in portrait choices. The sheet and backstory is a little thing; why did Lamm smash up the bar? What did he have to gain? What did you lose? Give me something to work with here. HiKaizer: Sheet not being done aside, tell me about the conspiracy. Who did he sell you out to? What happened when you were betrayed? Why did it matter what this lowlife did - in other words, what exactly did he do that hurt you? red plastic cup: sheet is well done and I appreciate the thought you put into this. Similar question to many of the others, though; Lamm doesn't strike at random, nor is he especially a big player in the city. Who paid him to frame you, and why? What did you do to catch such negative attention? Kelevra: That is a pretty sneaky plan Lamm had. Why didn't you see it coming? And what will you do if Lamm dies? Did this one botched job really go so badly that it ruined your reputation, and if so what about it was so special that it caused that much fallout? Flame112: This is an interesting concept; it's actually quite a good concept, and I enjoyed the character write-up you gave him. But one of my main objectives with this game is to make sure that every character has a strong buy-in on their mission; whether or not this translates into doing other things afterwards is something I'll weigh when I get there, but I deliberately wrote the prompt so that everyone had a strong, personal interest in stabbing this guy in the back. Grayson's motivation is, effectively, that he's been given a quest; this guy isn't his problem, but some other people want him dead. It needs to be more personal than that. This isn't so much of a question as a statement that you need to figure out how to tie him more directly into the plot, since this doesn't quite work for what I'm looking for. K Prime: This is a great character. You've got a great connection to Lamm, gives you a strong murder motive, and has some potential for post-murder too since the character isn't completely based on that one deed. Sheet needs to be cleaned up a bit but it's looking very good so far. And now, for your question: who did Lamm sell you out to? What kind of experiments were you part of? Tell me about one of the more unusual ones. The rest of the questions and reviews of what's been posted should be up later today, but I wanted to get this up rather than waiting for one, single block for every poster.
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Aug 31, 2015 11:13
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RPZip posted:Kelevra: That is a pretty sneaky plan Lamm had. Why didn't you see it coming? And what will you do if Lamm dies? Did this one botched job really go so badly that it ruined your reputation, and if so what about it was so special that it caused that much fallout? I think that's the trick of Lamm's "genius" (ugh); it's less that he's actually smart or clever and more that everyone around him constantly underestimates what he's capable of. And really, would anyone ever expect a guy to side with a no-name drug pusher at the risk of burning a bridge with (and earning the ire of) a renowned assassin? Nah, that'd be too stupid... *Sigh* As far as my reputation goes, yea, getting hoodwinked by a two-bit criminal (not even a Cerulean or something, just some guy) pretty much guarantees my name is met with a hearty chuckle in these parts. What should've been an easy hit got completely derailed by the lowest of scum, hence why it's so damaging; I didn't fail something grand like killing the Hellknight, I failed to kill a drug dealer. I was already scraping by, even little hiccups like this can be the difference between an inn or the gutter. It's not just about business, though. Prior to this job, my record was perfect. You know how absurd that sounds? People don't believe it when you tell them...so I don't, usually. But I knew, and now that little bit of pride is gone. It might sound petty to you, but to me, it's something I've lost that I can't ever get back. Killing Lamm is as much about salvaging what I can of my rep as it is revenge. After that...hell, I haven't planned that far. Probably hit up a bar. Edit: Just feel like elaborating more on Kelevra's character. In many ways, he's not a much better than the other criminals he does business with. Not much conscience when it comes to killing, uncaring or aloof with regards to others' welfare, and loves to cater to his vices. He's horrible with money; you might think an assassin with his record would have a tidy sum and maybe a lavish abode nestled away somewhere, but between chasing skirts, downing booze, gambling...if there's a way to lose money, he'll find it. Ironically, despite his profession requiring discretion and deceit, Kelevra's manner is rather frank and open. Is he absolutely honest? No, of course not, but he tries to be when he can. Trust is a powerful word to him, for many reasons. Practically speaking, it can open a lot of doors. In this world of criminal enterprise, it almost doesn't exist, but in dealing with clients he endeavors to be someone they could trust. Really though, it's the only lesson his parents taught that he really took to heart. "You can't buy an honest reputation." they'd say. "Once you start lying to others, it's not long before you start lying to yourself. And who can you trust, if you can't trust you?" Generic Octopus fucked around with this message at 18:46 on Aug 31, 2015 |
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Aug 31, 2015 14:59
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RPZip posted:Mors Rattus: I addressed this in IRC, but just for anyone who wasn't there at the time: I don't mind refluffing class features if there's something else that you'd like, so using a different Draconig Heritage but calling it something else is perfectly fine. I'll deal with the scaling issues on breath feats if and when we get to a point where it'd matter. And now, for your question: Gaedren Lamm is, for all his awfulness, a bit player. He's not a mover, nor even a shaker. Who stood to gain the most from him ruining your reputation? Who traded in a favor to get you taken out of the picture? It was surely one of the nobles. My presence among them would have greatly elevated the monsters of Little Drakkenhall. It's shameful, how they're treated by the so-called civilized races. But this would've been more than disdain for them. No...no, I think I know who it was. Kaelyss Vol. I know her name from talking to my friends. The elf, yes, the lovely foreign elf with the perfume business. Why, you ask, would she care about my reputation? Because, firstly, she trades on being the foreign noblewoman. With me coming in, she'd lose her novelty - and with it, her influence - because I'm just prettier and more foreign and more noble. But that matters because she's an aspiring slumlord. She's been buying up parts of Little Drakkenhall for some mad elven plan or other. And eventually? I'd have gotten Little Drakkenhall to own itself, respected. I still will. After Lamm, she comes next. Maybe subtler. I need to understand this plan. Then I can make Little Drakkenhall really shine. Mors Rattus fucked around with this message at 15:23 on Aug 31, 2015 |
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Aug 31, 2015 15:18
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RPZip posted:Green Bean: Definitely one of the more out there submissions. Lamb reminds me of the creepy ghost thing from Mask of the Betrayer, if you've ever played that. What would Lamb do if Gaedren died? If Gaedren lived, or was imprisoned, or otherwise punished? In other words, most people have a life - Lamb, by definition, doesn't. What happens when Lamb's vengeance is complete? That's an interesting question that gets into Lamb's true nature. While Lamb was created from the spirits of departed Lamm's Lambs, they are very specifically made from their lingering hatred and dying wishes for vengeance; the remainder of their souls presumably passed onto whatever afterlife they were entitled to and have no more influence on the mortal world. It is that concentrated amalgamation of hatred and revenge that animates Lamb and gives them purpose. If Gaedren is alive, Lamb will try to kill him. If Gaedrin is imprisoned, Lamb will try to kill him. If Gaedrin is punished and somehow not executed in the process, Lamb will try to kill him. If Gaedrin is dead...that's where it gets interesting. Without a higher purpose to guide them, Lamb as a discrete entity would cease to exist. Instead, there would be an undirected ball of hatred and necromantic energy in their place, which would quickly disperse. And in this context, 'disperse' means 'explode', and it would be certainly be a bad thing for anything living within an unknown radius. At least, that's what would happen now. The interesting thing about Lamb is that while they are not self-aware in the same sense living people are, they have taken the form of a person, must act as though they are a person, and are powered by very elemental emotional drives that once belonged to actual people. All that is starting to rub off on them, and every so often Lamb will think of things that aren't directly related to their mission, shocking as it sounds. Things like interacting with people, developing ongoing relationships with others (positive or negative), or seeing the light of a new moon seems to make this happen more often. The latter probably has nothing to do with Lamb's strange affinity with The Lady In Black, honest. And if Lamb does eventually develop an actual consciousness, even a very simple one, they might be able to hold themselves together if their purpose is fulfilled, or at least disperse more peacefully. That's just speculation at this point, though - Lamb has a difficult time even conceiving of a world where their mission is complete right now. (Also I'd definitely be lying if I said One of Many wasn't a big inspiration here.) Green Bean fucked around with this message at 20:29 on Aug 31, 2015 |
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Aug 31, 2015 20:27
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RPZip posted:aldantefax: I can see that you started a revolution in portrait choices. The sheet and backstory is a little thing; why did Lamm smash up the bar? What did he have to gain? What did you lose? Give me something to work with here. Everybody west of the docks in Newport knew Logan's Flagon Wagen, a bar and literal wagon, reputed as much for its homebrews as much as it had selection for. They said that it was supposed to be an insurance racket between the people who owned the building the Flagon Wagon was parked in and Lamm; others said it was something motivated by forces beyond any one man's degree of control. It was long rumored a concern of mages caught up in a turf war needed someone to do their dirty work, and Lamm was it, with Logan none the wiser. Gaedren would accept a handsome payout. Logan, meanwhile, hauled his brothers, Laurence and Lucien, out of the fire. They were the only ones who had come with him to Newport from the Dwarven King's halls, and even with their fortitude, they were burned so bad as be in the care of the priesthoods for months. "I had just finished my last payment on that drat wagon," Logan said to Gaedren Lamm, brushing embers from his beard. "Mark my words - though it may not be this hour, this day, or this year, I will exact a most terrible vengeance on you and yours, just as you have done to me and mine." "Small talk from a small man! I wish you the best of luck, dwarf," Lamm said. "Do it, boys!" "A petty line from a petty son of wh-" Logan started, before being interrupted and flung into the air by the force of the fires reaching the cellar where all the real booze was...
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Sep 1, 2015 01:35
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RPZip posted:K Prime: This is a great character. You've got a great connection to Lamm, gives you a strong murder motive, and has some potential for post-murder too since the character isn't completely based on that one deed. Sheet needs to be cleaned up a bit but it's looking very good so far. And now, for your question: who did Lamm sell you out to? What kind of experiments were you part of? Tell me about one of the more unusual ones. The Magistrates. It means two things in the empire: The coppers, and the mages that prop 'em up. Lamm picked the later, 'cause he knew the former wouldn't stand a chance. They bound me with chains that appeared from thin air and I still nearly tore out the firsts throat, but I didn't understand my own power yet. I was weak. Weak weak weak. And they took advantage of that. After that... it was poking. Poking into my skin. My head. My heart. Apparently I was one of the first of the Gambler's victors, or victims, they'd caught alive in a while. That's why they didn't kill me, see. Too valuable. The weirdest one... one of them put a thing above me. Said she could see into my head. I tried to think really bloody thoughts but I dunno if that was what she meant. Either way... she started.... touching bits. And my arm would twitch. She told me the idea was to see if she could trigger the.. power. The bit where I get strong enough to haul a man in each hand and throw them from the tower to the bay. If there was some part of my head she could prod to make it just... occur. She told me if she could find it, they'd rip it out of me and put it someone else. Someone they could use. I told 'em, good luck, you cocksuckers. Never did find it.
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Sep 1, 2015 03:57
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RPZip posted:HiKaizer: Sheet not being done aside, tell me about the conspiracy. Who did he sell you out to? What happened when you were betrayed? Why did it matter what this lowlife did - in other words, what exactly did he do that hurt you? Yeah, I have tried to get most of the important details done, but there are some odds and ends to finish up on the sheet. Everyone knows the Three have their eyes of Newport. I mean after what happened to Highport they have to have a plan right? And surely I as a dragonic, and no one would believe such a pathetic story as being a human and turned into one, would be privy to these plans. Or at least my part in them. This is what my interrogators told me. I just wanted some answers as to why some crazy dragons plucked me up and changed who and what I was. Lamm said he could get me in touch with the people that had those answers. He lied. In return for some cheap coin he used what he told me was a meeting as a way to turn me in as a 'conspirator' and 'agent of the Three'. I got angry once I figured out what was going on, but they did...something. Knocked me out and tied me up so I couldn't use my 'tricks'. They tried to torture me, didn't get far, but no one does that where I come from. You either kill your enemy, wound them so they can't fight again but can farm or something, or you let them go. You don't treat a person like some kind of piece of meat, to poke and brand with fire. I surprised them, the buggers didn't bind my mouth well enough and I can breathe fire now from time to time. I broke free, killed two of these 'Newport Loyalists' as they called themselves and fled. I am sure their friend will be looking for me, and with his friends too. Even if I clear my name, those crazy bastards will hunt me for killing some of their own. But I'll make sure Lamm goes down before I do.
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Sep 1, 2015 04:50
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 Rhona Durnin Do you know what it's like to lose? I don't mean losing a wager, or losing your favorite pair of boots. I mean losing all of what you are, what you were supposed to be, with the undeniable knowledge that you will never get it back. I was a Queen to Be, once. Some people don't quite know what that means, not having witnessed a competition themselves but for the retellings by bards and minstrels. But trust me, it was ruthless. Those unrealized Queens, vying for the right, the power that they all think is rightfully theirs, while every single soul in the empire expects nothing but perfection from every last one of the contenders. Like me. I was a mage of significant power, but that mattered little. I was ready to go the distance. My mind was my greatest asset, and it would carry me where my magic failed. I would be the Queen That Is, and nothing could stop me. Notice how I talk in the past tense? Enter that rear end in a top hat that we're here to kill. Lamm. Really, I should know better than to go after him. It wasn't even his idea! No-good two-bit lowlife that he is. What would he stand to gain from interfering with the competition, anyway? But it was his hand that did the deed, even if he was but a tool for one of my competitors. You see, while the competition was ongoing, I was leading the charts. All of them. None of my rivals could match me, nor would they have if the competition had gone on without end. Except one of them had a different idea. Her name was Shea Moongleam. A tinkerer and alchemist. Made some pretty bad stuff, I can tell you. No idea what she called it, but it stunk like a sewer and crippled me for life. Had she administered it herself, she'd have been executed on the spot; but of course, a Queen to Be is smarter than that. She had a friend of a friend take one of her concoctions to Lamm and paid him to do the deed, which he did in the dead of night. A quick injection. I didn't even feel it until I woke up with a splitting headache. The problem that neither of them foresaw was that it didn't kill me. Granted, I don't know if it should have, or if my magic just reacted to it weirdly. But I went to the competition once again, and when I used my magic, everything fell apart. Everything. My body tried to tear itself to pieces as the world around me fragmented like a shattered mirror. What I saw was... indescribable. A kaleidoscope of being, a tapestry of reality so complex it broke my mind trying to spot a pattern I could recognize. Of course, I was removed from the competition for being unable to move or speak in anything but gibberish. Can't have a broken Queen that Is. I don't know how long I was out, really. But eventually, a voice led me back to some semblance of coherence, and I woke up with my shadow on the ceiling. That was hardly any stranger than I had seen before, so I talked to it. And it let me know what had happened. What Gaedren Lamm had done at Moongleam's behest. It whispered to me promises of vengeance, if I could hold myself together long enough to give them a taste of their own medicine. I won't lie. It's hard. I walk a razor's edge of power; one wrong move and I descend back into madness, possibly without a way out. But my mind is still my greatest weapon; and I have honed it well enough to remain as it is. I won't kill the two of them. Not immediately. No, I shall see them beg for mercy, for death, for anything but the pain I will inflict on them as I strip the vestiges of their self away with a surgeon's blade of power. Gaedren Lamm must die - but he will die screaming. ----- quote:Name: Rhona Durnin Wahad fucked around with this message at 19:07 on Sep 1, 2015 |
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Sep 1, 2015 19:00
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RPZip posted:red plastic cup: sheet is well done and I appreciate the thought you put into this. Similar question to many of the others, though; Lamm doesn't strike at random, nor is he especially a big player in the city. Who paid him to frame you, and why? What did you do to catch such negative attention? There are a number of possibilities. Could be that someone was after Jove's research. Someone like Armond Duclaire, a well-to-do young man who's more blessed in his coffers than in his noggin. Like Jove, Armond is a student who studies magic, more out of obligation to keep up his family's image than anything else. Let's say he was watching Jove during the night of the murder, and when Jove stumbled upon Lamm knifing the guard, Armond saw opportunity strike. The first one to identify Jove as the murderer was Armond, and after exchanging coin with a local crook who knew exactly which people to bribe, he let Lamm take things from there. It was a simple matter to steal the gnome's research notes in the confusion, and after tidying them up into a paper Mister Duclaire won the illustrious Queen's Mark for Academic Excellence. I think Armond is working as an aide for the Mayor of Newport, now. Of course, Armond doesn't know that Lamm was the murderer. It was just a lucky coincidence that Lamm wound up getting paid to cover his own tracks, but Lamm's the kind of guy for whom lucky coincidences are a common occurrence. Now that Jove's been freed, Old Man Lamm's might tip the other way, and that goes double for Armond. There are a lot of places in a game like this for a rich, young wizard with flexible morals and a seemingly sterling reputation. Armond might be funding something that's causing trouble for another character, and his wealth and position make him a prime target for blackmail if Jove can manage to prove that Armond stole his research. If you're looking for something more campaign-defining though, then let me direct your attention to Acolyte Shade. Born as Connor Rennsville, Acolyte Shade was a hulking monster of a man who's strength and propensity for violence were matched only by his keen and cunning wit. Twice the villain that Gaedran Lamm could ever claim to be, Rennsville cut a swathe of terror through the low-class areas of Newport, taking over many of the Shiver rings through force and guile. After a crackdown that brought the Hellknight himself to Newport, Rennsville was caught and executed almost sixty years ago, and his passing let opportunists like Lamm really take power. Death was not the end for Connor Rennsville, for in life he only bowed to one person, the Queen Who Was. After his execution, the Queen revived Rennsville as a spirit of hate and maleficence, a spirit that called itself Acolyte Shade. Acolyte Shade haunted the streets of Newport, though his ghostly form limited the damage he could do. When the magically-gifted young gnome entered the city's gate, Shade saw possibility, but he needed Jove somewhere secluded. While the gnome wandered the streets of Newport that fateful night, Acolyte Shade steered a drunk and cantankerous Gaedran Lamm to a back alley where Lamm murdered the guardsman. In life, Connor Rennsville left a few hidden caches of wealth around the city, and it was no coincidence that Gaedran Lamm happened to find one when he was in desperate need of bribing money. During Jove's sentence, Shade haunted him like a watchful professor, adjusting Jove's notes and whispering dark secrets into his ears. When the gnome "stumbled" upon the secrets of necromancy, Shade was behind him all along, laughing with wicked glee as Jove began putting his new abilities to use. Why the Acolyte did this is a mystery, but he certainly had some ulterior motive. Here are three, with varying levels of campaign importance: -Shade hates Gaedran Lamm. Maybe he sees Lamm as an opportunistic cockroach feasting on Connor Rennsville's legacy. As Jove has his own vendetta with Lamm, Shade sees an easy opportunity to get his revenge by proxy. -Shade wants to recruit Gaedran Lamm. As the Duchess of Undeath, the Queen Who Was is always recruiting twisted souls, and you won't find a more crooked spirit than Gaedran Lamm's. Once Jove and the other characters take their revenge, Shade will be right there with them to snatch up Lamm's spirit and add a new Acolyte to the Queen's servitude. -Shade wants freedom. As a specter, Acolyte Shade owes his unlife to the Queen Who Was, but after years of servitude, he's grown weary of bending at his ghostly knees. By teaching Jove how to tap into the Queen's power, he hopes to weaken the Queen enough that he can slip through her binds and take control of Newport once more.
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Sep 2, 2015 02:05
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More questions! More reviews! More bits of Newport News! potsticker: Sheet isn't done, but there's a few days for that still. But here's the question to answer: Gaedren Lamm pulled a pretty good con on you. Whose help did he enlist to pull it off? Who shadowed you, who got to your fence, who put all the evidence together? ProfessorCirno: This is an interesting concept, and I like the equipment list as a nice little touch. What was the rallying cry of your little revolution? What did you use to stir them up, to get them headed in the same direction? Did you have a slogan, a political manifesto, salient economic talking points? Eleniel: Much like Grayson, I feel like this is a good character concept but there isn't enough of a visceral connection to Lamm. With that said, though, there is definitely potential for one. Why did you abandon your post so completely? Pride is one thing, licking your wounds is another, but leaving for ten years to go hide out in the woods is a pretty passive response. What stayed your hand, and what did you occupy yourself with in the meantime? Chance: Definitely an Occultist character. I have some reservations about the class (mostly how well it'll function even in a very active PbP, due to the very reactive way the powers work), but I like the concept. And now, your question: If you're picked, this won't be the first time you've tried to get the glasses back. It'll be, at a rough estimate, the fourth. Tell me what happened on one of the other attempts. Mr. Fowl: Yeah, that's... a picture alright. I do like the writeup quite a bit, though - it's an interesting take on a character who'd get into the Hellknight's good graces. As a valuable asset, he wouldn't have let you go back home without a final mission - something to test the gift he'd given you first. What was it, and how did it go? ambivalent: This is one hell of a background, jeeze. Mechanically you probably want to be using two martial weapons (1d8) or a martial weapon and a light weapon (1d8/1d6); since Dual Attack doesn't reduce dice size anymore, this means the dice in your notes at the bottom are a little low. And here is your question: the Song of the Laughing Cat has been sung by folk singers of moderate skill in the far-flung taverns, bars, pubs, boozeries and seedy back alleys all across the Empire. What happens in the song? Bonus points for actual lyrics, like Winson has to produce. Wahad: This is a neat concept, and I like how it plays with the Queentobelympics. What is the deal with Shea Moongleam? Was she a close rival? A distant one? Part of a conspiracy to take out the front-runner? Did she win? Did she lose? Did she get disgraced and thrown out? Give me some details about her and your relationship with her. ----- At the moment, I'm looking at continuing recruitment through this Sunday (September 6th); you theoretically have until then to get an application in, but sooner is going to be better.
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Sep 3, 2015 03:16
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RPZip posted:
I have been trying to reconcile my desire to have a rockin soundtrack with not having something that would be like, utterly apocryphal and out of place. To that end, I have decided that the Piss Vicars were more or less the Dropkick Murphys, and our song was "Shippin Out to Newport," which caught on in a big way because it was fun to dance and drink to, more than anything. I have more thoughts, but am working on that now.
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Sep 3, 2015 04:03
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RPZip posted:ambivalent: This is one hell of a background, jeeze. Mechanically you probably want to be using two martial weapons (1d8) or a martial weapon and a light weapon (1d8/1d6); since Dual Attack doesn't reduce dice size anymore, this means the dice in your notes at the bottom are a little low. And here is your question: the Song of the Laughing Cat has been sung by folk singers of moderate skill in the far-flung taverns, bars, pubs, boozeries and seedy back alleys all across the Empire. What happens in the song? Bonus points for actual lyrics, like Winson has to produce. The Song of the Laughing Cat recounts the tale of the halfling Ninphidious ‘Nine-toes’ Norn, Imperial magistrate in the port city of Vorpal Bay. As the song tells, ‘Norn’s brother led the watch, his sister the merchants’ guild, and the entire bay, was forced to pay, whatever it was he willed.’ ‘They were all on the take, so whatever you’d make, found it’s way into Norn’s hold. ’ As the song goes, the Cats wrote a letter pleading for justice, Norn only gloated and something-something-something, that started the ruckus. The brother was thwarted in his extortion schemes, and the sister’s cartel came apart at the seams. They plundered Norn’s levies and fees, that had brought the poor bay to it’s knees. They took the proceeds, planted them in place of the weeds, through all the town’s flowering pots. Norn didn’t know what the think - the halflings would rile at any cat’s smile, and they slept hardly a wink. It goes on like, in forced rhyme and non-meter for some time. In some versions, the song actually starts with the twins striking out from their Sullan home, or being overcome with grief over the city’s plight. In other versions, Norn hires foreign muscle, all highly touted, but all promptly routed. The twins and their masks, prove up to the task, so on. In general, the song is much sunnier and amusing than the reality which isn't to say the twins didn't have a good sense of humor about the whole affair - people in Vorpal Bay still dig out old flower pots hoping to find some of the Cats' reallocated tax collections. The story glosses over the part where the city watch began brutalizing the citizenry and the magistrate squeezed the population in a last bid for control, but the song and the real story end in much the same way – on the dawn of the day when the auditors from Axis ride into town, Ninphidious Norn is strung upside down in the center of town, missing a toe, wearing a Laughing Cat mask of his own, over a pile of fairly damning ledgers and correspondences, abandoned by his siblings. Very important, do not try to sing anything written here. Some things may rhyme but it’s totally a coincidence and this was never meant to be a horribly pathetic attempt to make a song. I hope my mechanical tweaks are in line with the suggestion!
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Sep 3, 2015 07:59
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Ambivalent posted:The Song of the Laughing Cat recounts the tale of the halfling Ninphidious ‘Nine-toes’ Norn, Imperial magistrate in the port city of Vorpal Bay. As the song tells, ‘Norn’s brother led the watch, his sister the merchants’ guild, and the entire bay, was forced to pay, whatever it was he willed.’ ‘They were all on the take, so whatever you’d make, found it’s way into Norn’s hold. ’ Fun fact, the Piss Vicars did a cover of this song which was hugely unpopular among the drunken fuckers they usually played for, but the mando player's boyfriend loved it so it got worked in to the dead spot near the end of the first set.
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Sep 3, 2015 17:12
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RPZip posted:Chance: Definitely an Occultist character. I have some reservations about the class (mostly how well it'll function even in a very active PbP, due to the very reactive way the powers work), but I like the concept. And now, your question: If you're picked, this won't be the first time you've tried to get the glasses back. It'll be, at a rough estimate, the fourth. Tell me what happened on one of the other attempts. By the Gods, man, specifics! Which one of the other attempts? Are we including as the second time the instance where I appeared to turn back time by thirty seconds, allowing me to escape, or are we working with my current theory that I was actually looking thirty seconds into a probable future and so that particular theft never occurred? Newport is a big place, and I have protected and lost more prototypes than most researchers ever lay eyes on. I suppose the most memorable incident would be the time my purse was stolen. I threw what I was holding at the thief, which just happened to be my prototype. Recovering my research notes and my coin came at the cost of two months of work. You should have heard the language when I discovered the prototype was ruined! In all truth, the moonglasses project has begun to consume me. My very identity is inextricably tied to them, and I don't mean in the sense of "I must leave this one thing behind before I pass from this world". The secret I discovered with this finished version is that to make them work, one must bind part of one's soul and ego to the device. Which is fine if you can actually hold onto the damned things! Sadly, as long as this thug Lamm has it, my connection to the worlds grows ever more tenuous. A sudden shock and it could snap altogether. All the previous iterations lost to thieves, inclement weather, my own carelessness; none will matter if I don't retrieve the completed device, and soon.
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Sep 3, 2015 18:14
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Ambivalent posted:
oh poo poo found this early demo https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zo_-o0G70rQ
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Sep 3, 2015 18:55
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god i hate you so much, paine
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Sep 3, 2015 19:11
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Winson_Paine posted:oh poo poo found this early demo Ambivalent posted:god i hate you so much, paine Oh my god.
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Sep 3, 2015 19:19
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Ambivalent posted:god i hate you so much, paine It was a first effort! Here, a slightly better take. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Shjhnqwmvuw
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Sep 3, 2015 19:42
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Sep 3, 2015 20:07
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