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Mors Rattus posted:
We are an old people, and as such, we are steeped in tradition. However, given how far back our history reaches, we do not always understand them. We look to the stars for understanding, for knowledge that we or our forebears left there. We look to the stars for the guidance that brought us to this world, and also in the hopes that there are more of our kin out there. We have always been told that the stars are our ancestral home and our birthright, regardless of how long our people have spent on this world. Is it any wonder then that some of us look to them for direction?
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Sep 16, 2015 20:39
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Mors Rattus posted:Karr, the Harbinger (Error 404): Once, your people worked alongside the Betrayer, helped him to shackle and destroy the Word. What turned you against him, and why do some still waver? Yes we stood with him at first. We thought ourselves untouchable, our reward for this hubris was the destruction of our sacred knowledge of The Word, the language of sigils we use to express our power in the world. As our power waned, so have our numbers. There are probably less than 50 Harbingers left in the world right now, including myself and the Betrayer alongside his closest allies. Some still think he can be redeemed, others question if his path isn't still the wisest, many others prefer quiet solitude for their grief, and hide from the world. I'm going for kind of a war-in-heaven vibe where the harbingers, while not being divine messengers, were still very powerful and nearly immortal beings until one rebelled (like Lucifer) and lead them in a crusade against the natural order. Only in this case Lucifer/the Overlord won when he destroyed 90ish percent of Harbinger magic. Yeah Harbingers are still terrifying and strong, but it's relatively nothing compared to being almost literal gods. Error 404 fucked around with this message at 20:49 on Sep 16, 2015 |
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Sep 16, 2015 20:45
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Mors Rattus posted:Dvalin, son of Dain, the Dwarf (Quorum): Your people did not believe they could be harmed from without, for their Stoneholds were impregnable. Who betrayed the secret of the dark paths to the Betrayer, and why was it so personal for you? My uncle, Dhorn, grew covetous of my father's power, and sought to overthrow him and take his seat for himself-- along with my mother, whom he had always desired, deep in his heart. Through some art, the Betrayer learned of his and spoke with him in secret, offering him all that he coveted... if only Dhorn would take Varethrax as an ally. Dhorn agreed. My father and his guard learned that Dhorn was gone from the citadel too late. As they pursued him, my mother insisted on accompanying them; she had always been fond of Dhorn, and hoped that she could reason with him, whatever was wrong. They tracked Dhorn to one of the countless narrow, twisting stairways that lead by means of hidden doorways to the surface. By the time they reached the top, two of the three portals had been unbarred and thrown open; only one remained. Words passed between them, then, but what they were my father would never say. In a fit of fury, Dhorn tore open the final bar, and my father saw the sunlight for the first and final time in his life. He also saw the Betrayer. My father claims that my mother stood in Varethrax's way, seeking to bar his passage, but she was tossed aside as though she was nothing. He claims my uncle, seeing this, instantly regretted his betrayal and charged the Betrayer with his axe. He claims he picked up my mother and fled. He claims he does not know what happened to my uncle. All I know is that Khazul-dan was ready for the onslaught of the Betrayer's minions, and the rest of the dwarven holds were not. My mother grew sick, and never recovered; I was born two years later, and the shock was too much for her. She died. I never knew her. My line does not stand against the Betrayer merely because it is our duty. We stand because of our shame as well. If my uncle still lives-- for dwarves weather time like stone itself, if they do not fall in battle-- I cannot say, but if so, I will see him dead for his treachery.
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Sep 16, 2015 20:54
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Mors Rattus posted:Rose Blossom,. the Halfling (Kylra): They say Varethrax will spare those scholars who swear themselves to him. What do you think of those who have taken this offer, and which of them was closest to you? Of the latter group I can count in my former mentor, Swift Talker. He was a Storykeeper, a position of reverence and trust among Halflings. You might say he was something like a mayor of the town I was born in. I don't know what deal it was he made exactly, but I do remember the result. It was a festival night to mark the first spring harvest. He told everyone to be there because there would be a special announcement that everyone would want to be there for. After we feasted and were feeling fat and lazy, the real announcement of warhorns was made. It was a massacre. We were unprepared because the usual patrols had been waived off by Swift to "let them participate in the festivities". Only a few made it out alive, myself included. We were lucky it was night and that we're very small. Now most Halflings aren't very revenge prone and tend to be forgiving of others, but I still think about that night now and then. The screams echoing in the night as I fled. The friends I lost. If he just disappeared to save his life I would understand. But this? This I don't know if I can forgive. He didn't even give us a hint of what was to come. If I saw Swift again...I don't know what I would do. Kylra fucked around with this message at 20:58 on Sep 16, 2015 |
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Sep 16, 2015 20:55
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Mors Rattus posted:Kay(?) the Squire (Green Bean): You are not strong or wise or powerful, but you would fight to save the world anyway. What is it that you keep in your heart, to be sure you remain this brave? <Fellowship member> has promised to teach me to read. I know it's silly, and if I survive all this I'll probably end up back at the farm/mine/tavern/coral factory/swirling energy nexus, where it's not like I'll ever really need a book. But sometimes I think about coming home after it's all done and teaching everyone what I've learned. And I picture all my brothers and sisters and cousins back home reading books, discovering our history, or maybe even creating some of their own, and it's like there's this burning white-hot heat in my heart that keeps me going, no matter what happens. Maybe when this is all over, <fellowship member> could even show me how to write it all down! And as long as we succeed, and I helped, even a little, to bring about that world I see, I think I'll be happy. No matter what happens to me.
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Sep 16, 2015 21:44
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Mors Rattus posted:Dirge Songheart, the Orc (Astro Ambulance): You retain your voice, alone among all your people. Why were you spared, and who paid the price? I do not remember this, because I was encased in my maturation pod at the time. My people could feel the Plague of Silence coming, as the Songs from our outposts turned to those of Panic, and then stopped. The greatest Shamans of our people gathered in the Maturation caverns of Orkopolis, in the hopes that any of the Orcs maturing inside met their eldritch standards. I was the only candidate. In the hope that I might be able to save, or at least avenge, our people, they sang the Forbidden Song of Stasis. It cost them not only their lives, but their corpses as well. No spores can erupt from a pile of ash. As the curse washed over Orkopolis, it could not penetrate the protective field of timelessness that surrounded me. Years later, when the magic had eroded away and the curse had settled in, I emerged, a sporeling no longer, and found my people devastated. I am the last hope for the Orcs, for without Song, we are nothing.
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Sep 16, 2015 22:11
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Mors Rattus posted:Miha of Pebbles and Ilya of Flowers, the Halfling(s) (sentrygun): Your people were scattered even before the Betrayer came to take their power and burn their knowledge. Now, it is even harder to talk to each other, to know who is truly a friend and who has turned for their own survival. What lets you know that while it may be beaten, the spirit of the Nomads has not yet broken? So far as I know, us Nomads don't really have much to call attention to us outside of the fancy things some of us made, like Ilya. Ever since the letters stopped, so did all the ideas that led to us making these things. The only people who remember how to make them are what most other people call 'scholars', and as you can see from Ilya, well... She was one of the lucky ones. Um, so, the few Nomads we have run into seem to be doing things as we always have. The Nomads travel around the world and try to find somewhere they fit, and then they stay there and make a family, and then their kids take off because we don't fit where we grew up, and so we continue the cycle. Just, without our letters nothing new is happening, and a few of our families are becoming worried about their children knowing they may never hear from them again. My mom didn't really want me running off, herself. It took a bit, but eventually she gave in, because even if we've lost something really important to us we still know what we're supposed to do. The Nomads roam until they find their homes, that's just what we do. Everyone else out there is doing their best to do that too, and there's just not enough of us around for anyone to turn on one another anyways. We'll make do, if nothing else. I know it. Oh, Ilya says there's definitely nothing to worry about when it comes to the Nomads turning since we're known for being incapable of spite or violence worth noting, even in a world without note- HEY! Ilya! I'm super tough, what are you talking about! Just 'cause you're only half-Nomad doesn't mean you can just make fun of me like that! Jerk.
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Sep 16, 2015 22:38
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Mors Rattus posted:Talthe Coral-Born, the Elf (IPlayVideoGames): It has been long years since your people have spoken to those that live in fresh water. What is said of them, and are they of your people and the Seaguard? Those who live in the rivers, lakes, and swamps of the world were always viewed somewhat as the Sea-folk's lesser privileged cousins, oftentimes causing some resentment or strained relations. They never built the grand underwater cities of the oceans, largely due to lack of room, and their contact with the other races was a little more common. At one point they were considered (not necessarily fairly) as less sophisticated and civilized, but after the Betrayer, there's likely more in common between both people than ever before. It's dangerous for both to settle for any period of time, the people being driven to a nomadic, survivalist culture. The Seaguard were completely a construct of the Salt-water merfolk, but contact had been broken since being driven from their cities. Dealings with the land dwellers was suddenly much less important. The rings that marked membership could be shown to the fresh-water merfolk, and though the bearers would be recognized as elf-friend, there was no responsibility there for both sides to serve or protect the other. IPlayVideoGames fucked around with this message at 07:02 on Sep 17, 2015 |
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Sep 16, 2015 23:06
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quote:Raliin Coalface, the Orc (paradoxGentleman): The name Coalface was given to your tribe to mark your shame, yet yours is the tribe closest to freedom. What chains the hearts of less shamed tribes? Our neighbors, the Bat-Eyes, are probably the tribe that has been hit the hardest: they live deep into our ancestral caves, to get a better connection to our Father and Mother and their court of spirits. With their many shamans dead, the various rites necessary to keep the favor of the spirits are being performed by the few surviving layorcs who witnessed them in the past and have at least a generic idea of how they are supposed to work. With each generation some part of a ritual is lost to the mists of time and we lose the favor of another spirit; and yet they have no choice but to try, if we want our warriors to be protected in battle, our children safe from animals, our women not to die of childbirth. To the north are the Fire-Veins, who once controlled the Giant's Spine mountains, with their rich iron and silver deposits and their magma forges. After the Betrayer's massacre, there was nobody left that knew how to operate the complex machinery; those that learned how to partially handle them now have to hide in fear, because that makes them close enough to a scholar in the Betrayer's servants' eyes that they are at risk. Those that didn't leave their homes now have to work much harder for a fraction of the profits, all with the costant fear of being raided by a much bigger force. Near them are the hunting grounds of the Sharp-Hearts,trainer of wolves and hunters of mammoths. They have always been the most solitary, stand-offish of the tribes, the last one to join the Pact. But now, without the infrastructure of the other tribes, they are going back to a wilder life, where they followed their sacred prey through the steppes because that was all there is for them to eat. They are becoming savages, and there are... rumors of them disrespecting the Pact and attacking fellow Orcs for goods. If one tribe would do something like that, it would have to be them, but even in this dark times there are those who believe that they could not sink this low. paradoxGentleman fucked around with this message at 20:42 on Oct 19, 2015 |
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Sep 17, 2015 00:06
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Did some say HAIR PARTY?! Oh. No. Heir party. Gotcha. Oh well. Close enough!  Who are you, and why did you want to join the Fellowship? Bonjour! I am Crown Prince Benoit, twelfth of my name. Formerly fifty-second in line for the throne but, due to revolt and judicious use of the guillotine, I've jumped right up to first! Hurray for me! Hurray for Benoit! The Kingdom of Aquitaine is currently in need of Benoit. It's not even calling itself a kingdom anymore. Hundreds of years of history thrown aside because a few peasants didn't have enough bread. If there is too many people then not everyone is going to be able to eat. This is called math. It is learned in school by people who aren't peasants. You see, this is why they need a proper leader. One ordained by proper bloodlines. I know deep in my royal heart that should I succeed as a hero here then I will be able to convince these peasants to quit their silly republic business and release the king from prison and also not cut off my head when I return to the capital. They will all clap and say, "Hurray! Hurray for Benoit!" Why did your people choose you to join the Fellowship, and what have they lost to the Betrayer? Please. My people do not know what they want. Nor what they need. This is why they are peasants. I am to join this fellowship because it is for their greater good. Do you know that they are okay with the burning of our great libraries? Did you know that they are okay with the destruction of centuries worth of customs and courtesies? We are the land of fine wine and fancy dress and drinking fine wine while wearing fancy dress! I will not let this be forgotten! I will not! What will you protect from the Betrayer, no matter what? I have solemnly sworn to God and the Kingdom of Aquitaine to keep myself safe from the Betrayer. No matter what the cost, no matter the sacrifice, I know that I must survive. I must continue the legacy of all that is good and proper and civilized. Viva la Aquitaine! Viva Benoit! quote:
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Sep 17, 2015 00:35
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In the meantime, I have written down my stats if you want to check them out. They're in that other post, I figured you woud want them all in one place, but you can click down there to reach it!
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Sep 17, 2015 00:39
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Mors Rattus posted:
Knowledge does not grow in isolation. Part of the Reclaimers' job is to commune with the scholars that don't want to turn us into a recreational drug. Our knowledge has always been public to those in that trusted circle of friends. Unfortunately the Book-Burners was one of the scholars, he was always one of the most ambitious and inquisitive. One day we heard from our contacts that others in the circle had been executed by the Destroyer. Thankfully, some of those scholars still stay in contact with the Reclaimers. In our naivete we simple gave him blueprints of an outdated golem design, it had too much of an energy cost to be sustainable. Somehow the Betrayer has only found a way way to create unlimited power. Preliminary reports suggest that he is directly siphoning energy from the elemental planes. This allowed for the golems to act semi-autonomously. Rumors are that the Book-Burner seeks to create a permanent undetectable scrying network across the world. The Elven scying networks are some of the best ways to transfer information fast. However, they are designed to be used for short term projects, as the quality deteriorates as time passes. If the Betrayer can intercept these lines with a permanent he will be able to track nearly every life on the continent! JesterOfAmerica fucked around with this message at 04:09 on Sep 17, 2015 |
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Sep 17, 2015 02:00
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For those apping Squires: just pick a race for now. If things end up conflicting with whoever is of that race when picks are made, we'll has stuff out, some as for folks who might need to shift playbooks.
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Sep 17, 2015 02:09
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Krysmphoenix posted:
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Sep 17, 2015 02:34
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quote:You are the first of your people to leave the city in generations. What most amazes you about the outer world now, and what do you fear will follow you home? Ivan's experience outside has mainly been both exciting and confusing, as the customs and ways of those outside are very strange to him. He feels as if he's wandered into a storybook, with people worshiping strange gods and eating very bizarre food. Adding to this feeling are the strange people he's met. Ivan had heard tales from Sergey -- stories of the old world and the strange creatures that inhabit it, but he scarce believed that Elves and Orcs were more than children's tales. Even now, he's not sure what of the stories is true and what was fanciful, though he's generally too well-mannered to ask what Elves do with the children they take to Faerie-land, for instance. He fears that the Betrayer (curse his name) will find a way to use his departure to find a way back to Buyan in his moments of self-doubt, which are few and far between. However, a much more present fear for him is his people learning that the dark one has been winning. He (along with many others) had harbored the idea that the Betrayer (may Uncle West blow dust in his eye) had been vanquished at the time of the great miracle, and that the continued isolation of Buyan would soon be at an end. With the melancholy that afflicts so many in his home, he knows that the fact that Buyan will remain isolated will be hard to bear should it become known.
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Sep 17, 2015 03:25
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Lore of the World, the Orc (Krysmphoenix): Your people have long memories, and they have given up much to retain the truths they have managed to burn into their skins. Tell me a little about one of those truths, and why it was so important to protect that the orcs would risk death as living books to save it. Robard Goldworthy, the Halfling: The halflings have been forced to flee their homeland and take to a life so unlike the idyllic one they knew. What have you kept to make a home out of the barren road and open sky that the Betrayer can never take from you? Why is it so vital to a home? His Royal Highness Crown Prince Benoit XII, the Heir: You are educated - educated in ways long since forbidden. Your people have rejected you and turned their backs on you. Where did you learn, and what did the Betrayer do when he found out?
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Sep 17, 2015 04:48
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Holy inheritors batman! I am super bummed to be so late to the party. I haven’t had a chance to actually sit down for this character until now! Sorry Mors Rattus.  Namib Thar Kharan, Child of the Sahib The Heir The Parched Land is a pitiless place. It churns burning sand and freezing air. We its people have become hard to match it, changing to find its hidden treasures and fleeting comforts. But this land has given us one thing; this land has given us a strong love for each other. It is our love for each other that makes the days shorter, and the night’s chill warmer. It is our love for our people, for all people, that makes the Water That Walks strong. It is a strong love that keeps the memories of our ancestors alive. We celebrate their lives and their love through our great weavings. Our history and our stories can be found in our homes and in our halls. A great home for our honored dead, their memories stitched together by careful work, hour by hour by needle and thread. They make us as much who we are as our love. But now, we no longer know how we came to the Parched Land. We no longer know why we are the Water that Walks. We are lost children, grasping at the moonlight, hoping to grab what we see but cannot touch. We welcomed a person to us with our love, and now our ancestors are dead. Their memories burned at the hands of the Betrayer. Who are you, and why did you want to join the Fellowship? I am Namid Thar Kharan, Child of the Sahib, daughter of Gobi Thar Kharan. I am the eldest child of the ruler of the water that walks, and I have come to this fellowship to save the ancestors of all peoples, so they may not be lost to ash like mine were. Why did your people choose you to join the Fellowship, and what have they lost to the Betrayer? The people of the world do not often enter the Parched Land. In the same way, the water that walks do not often leave. Not from spite, but because we are at our best in the Parched land. But the sorrow of my people has washed me out of my home, driven by their tears. We have lost our ancestors to the Betrayer. The Destroyer. He has killed our ancestors, our past. Much of who my people are dance in ash on scorching wind, waiting to be swallowed by the sand. The sadness of my people will keep them from leaving what we have left. But our anger will keep the Destroyer from burning anyone we can save. What will you protect from the Betrayer, no matter what? This.  This is the memory of my mother. Of her mother before her. It will be the memory of me when I have child. This is what the Destroyer burned when he killed my ancestors. There are only two now among the water that walks that remember how to weave memory in this way. This was saved by the death of my mother, and I will not lose it, even if it must be saved by mine. quote:
Kid Blink fucked around with this message at 09:58 on Sep 17, 2015 |
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Sep 17, 2015 08:39
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 Aleph The Burned The Harbinger Who are you, and why did you want to join the Fellowship? My name is Aleph, the burned one. I have come through fields of fire to join this fellowship, for without the aid of those who know The betrayer best it is surely a doomed struggle. Why did your people choose you to join the Fellowship, and what have they lost to the Betrayer? They did not. I was not always as burned and as old as you see me. Once I was a rising star amongst my people. We called ourselves "knowers" and grew to feel that we had perfected our knowledge of the workings of the world. We sought out the best and "truest" words and marked them on ourselves. Then the Betrayer came, cloaked in shadow and he called himself "Vithal" then. I was young and he seemed to wish to know more, how could I deny him some simple knowledge. Lies. The whole of it, he burned and murdered his way through our city. The wise and the Cautious put to the Flame as he burned the greatest library ever written. I burned with them, my hair catching light as I strove to rescue as many books as I could. My family burning before my eyes as we ran to escape the first great conflagration of this age. I have lost my family and civilization to this creature I will not see him do the same to this world. What will you protect from the Betrayer, no matter what? The people of this world will be fuel to the coming conflagration. I refuse to let them suffer under him. I will protect everyone from the folk in the fields to the last book. And I will bleed out and die before I let him steal more from this world than he already has. quote:The Harbinger
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Sep 17, 2015 11:46
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I just realized these are the full playbooks, not the preview ones from the kickstarter. Even so, I like the way a Warrior-Dwarf came out of the KS-only moves, so I won't be changing Lord Amir's choices. I've also added a picture.Mors Rattus posted:Lord Amir the Ram, the Dwarf (Cyphoderus): Your people are immense, strong and powerful. Who named them Dwarves, and why do they wear that name with pride? More of this wonderful beer! Everyone has told their tale; the next story is on me. One who travels far enough East will eventually spot in the horizon a row of jagged teeth, constantly castigated by fog, thunder, and gale. We call it the Range of White Needles. The merciless mountains mark the edge of civilization and end of known land, for even if one could sift through every single tome burnt by the Betrayer, it would be impossible to find record of a successful passage through them. Not even the hand of the Betrayer can reach beyond their peaks. On the feet of the invincible White Needles, the People make their home. Very few trade routes reach this far, and excepting the lone warrior who leaves home to hunt their fortune Elsewhere, like myself, the People are a rare sight to the other races of the world. Many have asked why the People subject themselves to such harsh conditions – why not leave, build home in a more forgiving place? The answer is simple. The People are busy. Because whatever kind of land lies at the other side of the White Needles, know this – it is inhabited. Every score winters, a war-party of huge, hulking monstrosities will cross the mountains. The Giants are sadistic aberrations, not a sliver of good to be found in their hearts, and they will stop at nothing short of complete annihilation and depravity. The People are the ones who stand guard, fated to forever stand between the Giants and civilization. The elders say it is our sacred duty; I say battle is quite simply our nature. From time to time, there come Giants, the biggest, most evil of all, who know of the Tongue of men. The monsters will then openly mock the People, the insignificant defenders of a doomed world. They call us Tiny. They call us Runts. They call us Dwarves. And with our cunning, our strength, our unmovable resilience, we will bathe in the blood of Giants. And we will laugh with joy and ecstasy as the monsters, with their dying words, forever curse the frail Dwarves. For eons upon eons, the People have kept strong guard at the end of the world, protecting civilization from cataclysm and ruin. We require no recognition for our efforts; but when asked to name ourselves, we will refer to our kind as the Dwarves. And not a single time the word is spoken that the People are not reminded of our silent pride, our impossible resilience, our constant victories against insurmountable odds. Cyphoderus fucked around with this message at 17:19 on Sep 17, 2015 |
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Sep 17, 2015 17:10
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Mors Rattus posted:His Royal Highness Crown Prince Benoit XII, the Heir: You are educated - educated in ways long since forbidden. Your people have rejected you and turned their backs on you. Where did you learn, and what did the Betrayer do when he found out? They have not turned their back on me! How dare you! The people have simply become... mislead. Yes, mislead. Thinking they can run the country. And as a republic. Goodness. Peasants are so terribly small-minded. That's why they are peasants. I mean, look at them. Look at those unwashed faces, those dirty hands, those dull eyes. Look at the children. When I was child, do you think I went around playing in mud or hitting people with rocks or working out in a field? No. Of course not. What utter nonsense. I was tutored by the finest minds at the Académie Royale. And I can assure you I was an above average students in almost half of my studies! Unfortunately, there is no more Académie Royale. It was burned with all the brilliant minded professors locked inside of its Great Hall. A terrible tragedy. Such splendid, ancient architecture. Gone. Forever. Some of the students were taken. You know, if they pledged themselves to serve. My second cousin, Jean-Pierre, instance. He went with the Betrayer. Most of the students, however, were put to the sword. I, uh, well... I, myself, wasn't at school that day. You see there was this wonderful woman from the countryside who, despite her poor breeding, was just fantastically lovely when it came to shaping wigs. I skipped class for a manicure, pedicure, wig-fitting spa day and when soldiers burst through town looking for educated minds I was right in the middle of a powdering. I... Er... I believe they may have mistaken me for a woman.
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Sep 17, 2015 17:32
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Gnome has informed me of a rewrite of Quick to Judge for the Squire:
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Sep 17, 2015 17:38
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Cyphoderus posted:I just realized these are the full playbooks, not the preview ones from the kickstarter. Even so, I like the way a Warrior-Dwarf came out of the KS-only moves, so I won't be changing Lord Amir's choices. I've also added a picture. I had not realized this, and given this new information I have swapped I Smell Fear for Brutally Cunning.
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Sep 17, 2015 17:53
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Mors Rattus posted:Gnome has informed me of a rewrite of Quick to Judge for the Squire: Edited my sheet to reflect this change. Also, if I'm reading this right, does this move override the "only one Bond" part of the Harbinger's Doom and Gloom? Because that'd make a ton of sense and sounds like a lot of fun in-play.
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Sep 17, 2015 17:54
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Green Bean posted:Edited my sheet to reflect this change. Also, if I'm reading this right, does this move override the "only one Bond" part of the Harbinger's Doom and Gloom? Because that'd make a ton of sense and sounds like a lot of fun in-play. I'm gonna say yes. The Harbinger can still only have one back, but you can have as many as you want with them!
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Sep 17, 2015 18:04
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Mors Rattus posted:I'm gonna say yes. The Harbinger can still only have one back, but you can have as many as you want with them! Oh god, If I get picked, the squire is is gonna be like Donkey to my Shrek. 
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Sep 17, 2015 18:10
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Error 404 posted:Oh god, If I get picked, the squire is is gonna be like Donkey to my Shrek. Donkey=Squire Shrek=Orc Fiona=Heir Think about it.
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Sep 17, 2015 18:18
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(I'm sure it's full up at this point, but I've never done a PBP and this looks pretty excellent, so I'm throwing my hat in the ring too) Knock  Who are you, and why did you want to join the Fellowship? My name is Knock. I had another name, once – certainly my parents were well proud of it – but now I go by Knock. As for my parents, I hope they’re alive out there, somewhere; I haven’t seen them in ages. I served in the Ketonburg army as an officer, part of a last ditch push against the Burner of Books. You know the story, even if you haven’t heard mine. A rout. A scattered army. Examples were made. Some were lucky enough to escape, the fight beaten out of them. That’s me. I spent far too long trying to drink away the memories. Got in some fights. Spent some time behind bars. Worked as a caravan guard for whatever coin I could. But then my men found me, got me sober. Brought the Fellowship to my attention. Finally, someone wanted to fight back. FINALLY, someone was sick of getting trampled over by that tyrant’s sick ambition. Something in me boiled over, some trace of the fire I thought had gone out a long time ago. I’m coming for him. Why did your people choose you to join the Fellowship, and what have they lost to the Betrayer? My people are – were – the people of Ketonburg. The army. My men. I suppose you meant my ancestry, but Ketonburg was always a pretty… inclusive place. I mean, hell, look at me – you wouldn’t think it, but my mother was elven. I’m sure as hell not as pretty as she was, but I’m a drat good juggler. I’m off track, now – Ketonburg! Not the greatest city in the world, but at least you could go walking at night without an escort. We’d always heard of the Betrayer down South, making a mess of the world. But that was a ‘Southern’ problem. We twiddled our thumbs until he was right on our drat doorstep. All able bodied youths were expected to enlist in the city’s defence, and I leapt at the chance. I was always so cunning and quick in brawls out in the street – my boys followed me cheering to the enlisting station. We thought it was all a game. Training broke us of that. Combat broke us of that. I was fast-tracked to officer after I intercepted an enemy messenger, messed up some plans. I’d like to think that I did a good job, for a while. It didn’t matter, in the end. They ground us to dust, and I was lucky to escape it. I was lucky again that my men found me back there in the gutter, sent me to the Fellowship. They lost everything, but despite all that they still trusted me. Believed in me. I can’t ever repay them. What will you protect from the Betrayer, no matter what? This. Ketonburg’s flag. It’s all messed up and grimy now, but I’m keeping it safe. It keeps me going, reminds me who I’m fighting for. And when the Burner of Books is shattered before me, I’m going to shove it down his throat. quote:Name: Knock Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at 19:23 on Sep 17, 2015 |
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Sep 17, 2015 19:20
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Mors Rattus posted:Liara of the Storm, the Heir (Neopie): Your people have lived so long beneath the ground, and these sunlit ways are strange. When all this is done, what will you bring home most joyfully, and what will you spread to the surface world most fervently? Of all the artwork, the delicacies, the tools and wonders of the above world, there is one I wish to bring to my people more than any other. The greatest thing made by the aboveworlders is their Drinks. Not just Alcohol- coffee, even this thing called 'milk'. These liquids are far more soothing to the throat and tongue than the muddy waters of the Below, and fill one with a sense of joy. Some give the mind a pleasant distraction, filling it with new emotions, though the... aftereffects are unpleasant. Others bring the mind to wakefulness, or simply taste delightful, amazing! Truly, this is the greatest delicacy of the Above. How could anyone go without such things? I do not understand how my companions sometimes go merely on water after having tasted all... all /this/! Someone marvelous must have come up with these- well, most likely many marvelous people. I can imagine those of my land will find them as wondrous as I- if only we could make such things underground! But without the ability to grow the plants of the above, it is... unlikely that we shall be able to do so. Perhaps shipments could be arranged with one of the cultures of above. But as for my own culture? What should we bring to the surface... Ah. Yes. The Frozen Flame. It is a technique used by the artisans of my people, to freeze Flame itself, making it into a useful material. It is used to store knowledge, as the color of parts of the Flame may be changed by one who holds it, to make weaponry, lobbing the flame at an enemy and then unfreezing it, as a building material, but most importantly, in my opnion, artistically. I am not an artist, and I have no use for ornaments in battle. But I recognize it's beauty, and in a time of peace, Art can truly be important, showing tales of long past, vision of the future, beauty... It is a powerful thing, and in a way, what we're fighting for, here. Art, and knowledge. The Frozen Flame really isn't that hard to make, with the right tools. All you need is a normal flame, and the Below has those in abundance, and it's not too hard to create one in the Above. The correct words and motions, along with a clump of dirt, can freeze it into place. It takes a while to learn the intricacies, but even I can perform the basic technique. And such a wonder should be brought to the surface world. Once this is all over, I intend to bring some of the pieces of art created with it to the surface world, as a gift to those who have helped my kingdom.
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Sep 17, 2015 20:34
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HANNA Who are you and why do you want to join the fellowship? Hi! I'm Hanna! Um, Hanna bara Hanna, I mean. I guess I should be formal since so many important people are here! I want to join the fellowship because... well, someone has to stop that Varethax! Because he does such bad things and hurts people and wants to make all the stories go away. That's very awful. And, well, I have to do my part! Even if it's a very small one. All these important people - they're strong and brave and wise but they're still people! Which means someone needs to make sure they get fed, and their ponies are taken care of, and their clothes get cleaned. So, um, I can do that. I can carry their things and cook and all that stuff, so they don't have to worry about it. So they can concentrate on doing the heroic things. I don't mind, really! I don't need to be in any of the stories or anything. I just want to make sure there are some. Why did your people choose you to join the Fellowship, and what have they lost to the Betrayer? Well... they didn't, not exactly. I came on my own. I'm sorry about that! I don't mean to be pres- presum- to be cocky! Anyone could do what I do, really... But everyone else, they have more important things to do. But I'm not important or anything, so I can take care of the other things! I'm sure my people would agree, but I didn't want to bother them... Well... My people haven't been really hurt by the Betrayer yet. Not directly. My home is kind of far away and small and not very important. Like me. It's still safe and green for now. But he's hurt our friends, and he's destroying all the stories! We can't sit by and just watch that happen. It would be too awful. What will you protect from the Betrayer, no matter what? I'm not really cut out for protecting people. I mean, I'm not a hero or a warrior or anything. But- but I won't just hide while others do the work! I can't fight the Betrayer myself, I know... But I can keep my fri- er, the Fellowship, I mean - I can protect what they believe in! As much as I can anyways. Fighting the Betrayer will be hard, so it's important that they don't forget their own stories and what they believe in! They're the heroes after all. I'll make sure they don't forget it! Character Sheet posted:Name: Hanna bara Hanna I figure Hanna probably works best as a Halfling, but she could probably be some kind of dwarven sub-group, or a type of minor faery (elf), or even a goblin (orc). Otherwise, her people could be a small community belonging to an heir's kingdom or connected to a harbinger sort of like the hobbits to Gandalf. Comrade Gorbash fucked around with this message at 05:02 on Oct 11, 2015 |
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Sep 17, 2015 20:53
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Mors Rattus posted:Robard Goldworthy, the Halfling: The halflings have been forced to flee their homeland and take to a life so unlike the idyllic one they knew. What have you kept to make a home out of the barren road and open sky that the Betrayer can never take from you? Why is it so vital to a home? The one story every halfling knows is their clan's history. The great deeds of yer ancestors, the hilarious stories you'd share with friends, all the heartbreakin' losses. It's all important, all of it. ...Even if there's way too much for one person to remember. That's why we have to make most of it up! But... that's the point! You take what you've got and add your own bits to it, just like living in a clan!. Your story may not be historically correct, but it's true! No clan member's story is ever wrong, either. Not even when they contradict each other. Especially when they contradict each other. It just shows that you think some parts of the story are more important than others! And that's your right! As long as it makes for an interesting yarn, ain't no one gonna second gainsay you. Still, it's good form to add bits from other peoples stories to your own. History isn't ever a single, neatly penned book. It's pretty, sure, but static and lifeless. No, it's more like a big, patchwork quilt, and let me tell you this. All those memories from my clan mates have kept me cheered and warm on many a cold night, much better than any blanket would.
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Sep 17, 2015 21:34
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Onar Inkfinger, Dwarven  Who are you, and why did you want to join the Fellowship? I am Onar Inkfinger, guardian of my people's history. Long ago I was once a Runecarver and before that I was a scribe, back in the days before the rise of the Destroyer. It was not long after my apprenticeship that he came to visit the Great Library in Harnalmar. His true intent concealed, we welcomed the Betrayer with open arms. A lowly scribe, I returned to my work while Grand Scribe Balum Tomekeeper gave him a tour of the library. But soon I heard agonizing screams followed by the crackling of flames. When I realized what was happening, I gathered my tools and tried to save what I could. Many with the same idea were already snatching books from the shelves. That was when I saw him, a horribly disfigured Balum, half his face scorched and his beard burnt away. As the Library burned ablaze in an all-consuming conflagration, he told us that it was too late, he told us to run. So I did. I took a look over my shoulder before I left, long enough for me to see Balum's noble sacrifice when the Burner of Books appeared behind him. We had almost made it out of the inferno when some of the Betrayer's servants found us and seized our books, striking down any who dared to resist. I struggled as best as I could, but they managed to wrest all but a single page from my grasp as I fled for my life. A stubborn people, we rebuilt and started to scribe again, but he returned to engulf our books in flame once more. So we tried a more enduring medium: stone – tablets at first. But we soon noted that they were too thin to withstand the might of the Destroyer. So we moved to larger canvases, carving our runes into the very mountains and halls where we lived. But those, too, were defaced by the Destroyer, who left blasted mountainsides and collapsed halls in his wake. Undeterred but starting to run out of options, we consulted with other peoples – those with strong oral traditions – to see if we might be able to adapt to face our challenges. Though many Dwarves have a way with words, we found our histories to be too long and detailed for such a transition. With the march of time pressing ever on and hope starting to fade, the entire Dwarven hold of Morhadun volunteered their bodies as living scrolls. As one of the few scribes left, I assisted in tattooing their population, applying my knowledge of ink and quill for their experiment. I have since vowed never to scribe upon skin again. The fate those Dwarves met is too unspeakably ghastly for which to ever risk another life. Now I spend most of my days in either the halls of the Holdlords, advising them when they must consult our past history, or the various taverns of the Dwarven holds, drinking away my grief and sharing stories with any who will listen. When I heard about the Fellowship, I immediately volunteered. I know how important it is to stop the Betrayer and help reintroduce books to the world. Ah, wondrous books. Oh, what I wouldn't give to experience the smell of a book again! And after all, someone will have to record the group's travels and undertakings when everything is said and done. Why did your people choose you to join the Fellowship, and what have they lost to the Betrayer? My people are losing what is most important to them, more precious than any metal or gemstone. What Dwarves treasure most of all is their history, and it is disappearing – slowly, but disappearing nonetheless. My people live long lives, but we are still mortal, and the eldest amongst us – those who still remember a time before the Age of Ash – are starting to die off. And with each one, so too dies part of our history as a people. The great accomplishments of our people, the names of our forebears – all lost, like ash upon the wind. To not know your lineage nor the deeds of your ancestors was once unfathomable to a Dwarf, and yet here we are, with that exact travesty encroaching upon our society. My people have chosen me to join the Fellowship because we know that we'll need a weapon more powerful than any crossbow or sword in order to defeat the Destroyer. Knowledge is the key to finding this weapon, and they say I am the most knowledgeable of my people, so it's my duty to find this source of power and assist the Fellowship in using it against the Betrayer. What will you protect from the Betrayer, no matter what? Our history is paramount, but the histories of the other peoples of the world are of just as much import. I will guard the history of all peoples from the Burner or Books, even if that means I will not be there to witness his downfall and record it for posterity. pre: Name: Onar Inkfinger
Look: Weary Eyes, Flowing Locks, Wrinkled Skin, Scribe's Garb
Agenda: Be Brave, Take Risks
Tell Us of You People
Improve the World Around You
The Dwarven Craft: Create, restore, or protect something of lasting value.
Stats:
Blood: 0 [ ]
Courage: +1 [ ]
Grace: -1 [ ]
Sense: +1 [ ]
Wisdom: +2 [ ]
Iron: +2 [ ]
What is a Dwarf?
Deepdelve
Your people dig deeper than any others, and the secrets of the earth are yours. You can see in
total darkness without a problem, and your armor is born of the secrets that can only be found
deep underground. Add a Secret (2 Uses) to your Gear. You can use this Secret to Look Closely
as if you rolled a 10+, or to provide a strong argument to Talk Sense with, as long as you
whisper it into their ear.
Dwarven Core
People of Stone
When you Overcome by taking it on the chin, shrugging something off, or using pure physical
toughness, roll +Iron.
Unbreakable:
When you Fill Your Belly, you also heal your Iron stat.
Clear the Path (Iron)
When you charge through something standing between you and where you're going, roll +Iron.
On a 7+, you charge through and leave a path for your allies to follow. On a 7-9, your
reckless charge cause problems. You have to go alone, or you leave yourself open to danger, or
you damage something important, your choice.
Dwarven Customs
Good for What Ales You
When you use an item with the Drunk tag, act as though it had the Healing tag instead.
Let Me See That
When you take a few moments to handle or examine an interesting item, vehicle, or architecture,
ask the Overlord two of the following questions. They must answer truthfully.
Auralsaurus Flex fucked around with this message at 22:01 on Sep 17, 2015 |
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Sep 17, 2015 21:43
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Auralsaurus Flex posted:Fellowship 451 There's your game thread title right there!
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Sep 17, 2015 21:55
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Well, I wrote quite a bit more than I thought I was going to at first, so I hope you don't mind the   Pinfeather Jon, the Harbinger's Squire quote:Who are you, and why did you want to join the Fellowship? Why did I want to? That's a rather strong statement of intent. Truth told, I had little choice in the matter. My name is Jon. Just Jon. I got the nickname Pinfeather as an indentured scribe. It was their idea of a joke - "he spends all day writing with great big filthy carrion bird feathers, he's puny, he'd bleed out if we look at him funny, let's name him after those little feathers on baby birds that bleed them to death if someone scratches it wrong." To my misfortune the name stuck. Probably because the bastards found my annoyance entertaining. Oh, quit looking at me like that. Yes, you can insult the Harbingers without bursting into flames or having your bits fall off in a rot. I don't know what sort of mad tales you hear about them out here, but I can guarantee you they make them sound far more great-and-terrible than they really are. They've got more magic in one finger than you've got in your whole body, but you probably have more brains in your head than they do in their whole Great Council. That's the thing about Harbingers, see, once you get the magic flowing through you, your head goes way up in the clouds, and you forget about all the little folks 'round your ankles. Who cares about taking tax, or tallying the grain harvest, or raking the pegasus poo poo off rooftops, when you're busy contemplating the cosmic fundament? Those of us who don't quite take to the grand powers of cosmic enlightenment have to handle all of that. Their "government" is an excuse for philosophical debates that go on long enough for treants to get bored. The real one's the ad-hoc system of bureaucrats that have to keep them comfortable enough to focus on "what's really important." quote:Why did your people choose you to join the Fellowship, and what have they lost to the Betrayer? Some of the Great Council had the fantastic idea of propping up a certain lunatic you might know as the Betrayer. These days, the Great Council's got a list of disparaging titles for him on about twenty feet of vellum, while those of us who got caught in the magical turf war they drafted us into have our own names for him - and the Council, of course. Names that shouldn't be repeated in polite company. You're probably aware of the fallout. The anti-Burning Harbingers got their asses kicked it finally dislodged their heads from within, too late to save most of my life's work. That's what it started with, you know, just records. Nobody cares about a bunch of lists going up in smoke until their entire lives grind to a screaming halt, like a dwarven engine with a dwarf wedged in the wrong spot. It...didn't stop there, either. But you know that as well as I do. Nobody deserved what he did. Not even my old bosses. So. I haven't said why I'm the one out here, and not desperately trying to patch my life back together back home. What was left of the Great Council that had its head on straight managed to convene after the Burning. They elected someone to go try to rally your nations and city-states against the Betrayer before he made you all into encore performances. Of course, they took so long that he'd already incinerated half the drat continent, but who am I to judge the wisdom of the enlightened? I'd expected them to send out [Harbinger]. Always was one of the ones with [his/her] head screwed on...well, at least tighter than the others, even if [he/she] keeps calling me Pinfeather Jon. What I didn't expect was to be woken up in my pajamas being told by a glowing, floating wizard that I had to pack my things to go on the trip with [him/her]. Something to do with a prophecy, I think. Or maybe I drew the short straw after all. Or maybe they just felt like loving with someone. So, here I am. I've picked up a few tricks on the way, and I spent long enough doing odd jobs to prove myself handy when I have to be. I've even learned how to use a spear in a proper fight. I can't say I've entirely regretted this. I'd always heard how different lands that weren't ruled by magic were, but it's still a lot to take in. It's kinda nice, actually. quote:What will you protect from the Betrayer, no matter what? Aside from my own hide? [Harbinger]'s pretty high up there, just because I'm fairly sure I'd wake up as a toad or a chicken if I let [him/her] die. ...alright, alright, fine, I'll quit joking. I'm not going to let that son of a bitch destroy another nation's infrastructure. I've seen how ugly it gets when the whole head of a nation gets chopped clean off. I'll be damned if I'll let even one more person live through that if I have anything to say about it. quote:Name: Pinfeather Jon Daeren fucked around with this message at 22:07 on Sep 17, 2015 |
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Sep 17, 2015 22:01
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Knock the Orc (dog kisser): Ketonburg was a fine city - not the largest, not the greatest, but it was well known and loved by its people. What did the Betrayer take with him when he left Ketonburg, and why does it haunt you still? Hanna bara Hanna, the Squire (Comrade Gorbash): You are not a fighter, but a dreamer and a helper. Even so, you are willing to walk into the most dangerous places to help. What dream keeps you strong, when you close your eyes? Why? Onar Inkfinger, the Dwarf (Auralsaurus Flex): You, more than most, remember the time before the Betrayer. What did you manage to escape with from that time, and why was that the first thing you laid your hands upon? Pinfeather Jon, the Squire (Daeren): The Harbingers can talk until the cows come home about philosophy and the nature of the world. But there is a reason you and the others like you stayed there, even though the Council were madmen and fools. What did your home have that made it your home, and how much of it remains now? Mors Rattus fucked around with this message at 22:32 on Sep 17, 2015 |
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Sep 17, 2015 22:24
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Also: Closing for new apps on Saturday. Anything posted before...probably noonish Saturday, EST, will be considered.
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Sep 17, 2015 22:30
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Mors Rattus posted:Pinfeather John, the Squire (Daeren): The Harbingers can talk until the cows come home about philosophy and the nature of the world. But there is a reason you and the others like you stayed there, even though the Council were madmen and fools. What did your home have that made it your home, and how much of it remains now? When I was a kid, I'd have been incinerated for trying to flee my indentured apprenticeship. When I was grown, I knew that I'd probably have just starved, or gotten killed by an escaped experiment before reaching the border. Still, though, I stayed because of the people who weren't crazy. Even the Harbingers had some good folk among them, who remembered what it was like before the magic got hold of them. A few didn't really change much at all, even stayed in their old jobs. They kept the wheels moving with us. My home...my home didn't have much. I was staying in a dormitory with other displaced workers. My old home had some books about other lands, folk tales and histories and the like. Enough to remind me that everywhere else had its problems too, ones I didn't have to live with. It was burned to ash in the conflict.
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Sep 17, 2015 22:33
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Welp, I gotta get in on this while there's still a chance. Music pre:Name: Hy An Ke Op Ik, The Muchwise Look: Curly Hair, Very Old Robes, Infinitely Sad Eyes, Long Scarf. Agenda: Be Brave, Take Risks, Tell Us Of Your People, Improve The World Around You, Savior Complex. Stats: Blood: -1 Courage: +1 Grace: +0 Sense: +2 Wisdom: +2 Doom: +2 quote:Harbinger Core: Who are you, and why did you want to join the Fellowship? I am Hy An Ke Op Ik, the Muchwise, once from the warm sun-filled plains of Dero Eno Okki, sun-filled no longer. I was a wiseman of the Three Tribes when the Betrayer came, long before dark clouds covered our skies and our people served at the whims of Varethax of the Ash like Snow. I wish to join the Fellowship, because I have spent most of my long life in opposition to the being I once served, and I now bear dire warnings to the communities that yet remain free from the sway of the Burner of Books. My words are these: I have found that Varethax is finally beginning to close on his goal, and that once he has what he seeks there will be nothing to prevent him from finishing his dark designs for the rest of the free world. For all we have striven and fought, for all we have suffered and triumphed and survived, it shall all be in vain... unless we unite and marshal our forces now. The Fellowship is needed to prevent Varethax from finding what he most desires. It is needed to put out the blazes he will set in preparation for his ultimate triumph. And I am needed, because, regretfully, sometimes the only way to fight fire... is with fire. Why did your people choose you to join the Fellowship, and what have they lost to the Betrayer? Alas, my people no longer, the Dero and Eno and Okki have all joined in the Betrayer's designs. Our lore was always of tales and the telling, for we did not truck with the writ, only the spoken. Perhaps that is why we fell so easily under the sway of the Betrayer, in his opulent robes and his honeyed words that hid the veiled threat of his ember eyes and his ash-filled steps. I have fears that is but an excuse, however, for even I, called Muchwise, did not see the truth of his nature until it was too late. Until we, in pain and glory, had pledged ourselves to his cause. How vain and foolish we were! He twisted our stories and turned them to his cruel use, and there was not a one among us who saw fit to stand against him, until I finally broke from his grasp, an errant ember growing cold and old as years passed. I am one of the few who remember the tales now, the ones told before the Betrayer changed them and showed us his ways. I see how he made us his slaves and how only his ultimate defeat will free us. My people, more so than many others, have lost themselves. They burn at the Betrayer's command, bleed at his behest and make lavish use of his cruel gifts. As the only one capable of repaying their debts, I put myself at the Fellowship's disposal. What will you protect from the Betrayer, no matter what? The very thing he desires. To let him have it would be to sacrifice the soul of this world and bring about an era of unending ignorance and tribulation. For all the years that I have lived and dogged his steps, willing and unwilling, the Betrayer has shattered countries, driven good people to hate and fear, done evil that hardly bear speaking of, all for that one elusive goal. There would be no defeat more crushing than to keep it from him forevermore. In these twilight hours, when he is closing on his goal, and in so doing, beginning to expose the nature of what he seeks, it is from here, at the edge of darkness, from here that we may finally beat and foil his centuries-long designs.
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Sep 17, 2015 22:34
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Mors Rattus posted:Knock the Orc (dog kisser): Ketonburg was a fine city - not the largest, not the greatest, but it was well known and loved by its people. What did the Betrayer take with him when he left Ketonburg, and why does it haunt you still? I was on track to go to the Academies, you know. I wasn’t always the quickest study, but once I sank my teeth into something I was a voracious academic. My parents were so proud. I was so proud. Even my crew on the streets was chuffed for me – though they had a funny way of showing it. Then the war came, and that was that. Ha, now I can barely even remember what loving words look like. The Betrayer stole my education. He stole my future. If there's even a chance anything from the Academies survived, I need to find it. Maybe that would be enough; maybe Ketonburg could rise again, maybe people could learn again.
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Sep 17, 2015 22:51
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Sorry to ask this Mors Rattus but, do I get a question at all? If not that is fine!
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Sep 17, 2015 23:10
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poo poo, i did miss you, didn't i hold on, you'll get one
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Sep 17, 2015 23:10
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