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Under the Reign of King Leopold III, the kingdom of Sevvran prospered, some even claim it to be a golden age. Its wealth nearly tripled, the barbarian hordes of the north were finally pacified, and trade with the neighbouring countries (including even the reclusive elves!) reached an all-time high. Scholars agree that it would not have been possible without King Leopold III's incredible diplomatic talent, his economic genius and his popularity with his subjects. Unfortunately… He died of sickness eight months ago. His son, now called King Leopold IV, took the throne. Sadly, he is nothing like his father. Almost immediately, he used the newfound wealth to raise an army truly worthy of the heights the kingdom had achieved… and threw it at the nearest neighbor, the Hissin. Easily conquering the smaller kingdom, he moved onto the desert of Vale, the source of the legendary red sand, known for its incredible durability when properly processed, and continued on southward. And it’s clear… he has no intention to stop. If he will be known as a unifier or history’s worst villain… is a question for another time. This story is about you, after all. Who are you? You’re who’ve been left behind. The power players of Sevvran. All the power, nearly none of the control. Now is your time to shine… or to drag Sevvran into ruin. Whatever you prefer, really. ----- What is this? You ever played Grand Strategy games and thought “Hey, I want to be one of these annoying factions that threaten to ruin my empire all the time?” … Probably not. But you’re getting it anyway. The point of this, you’re a prominent figure (Be it in the underworld, or magic, or even just fighting) with enough power to change the political – or in some cases, literal – landscape. of a fantasy world in the ravages of war. And now’s the time to do it, since the king’s out conquering! Time to grab as much power as you can and never let go! ----- How do I This game will be PBP, and we will be using PDQ Core for this, which can be found here: It’s really simple. You come up with a number of +2 qualities to your desire, that best describe your character. Just make sure they’re neither too narrow nor too broad. A school of magic like Pyromancy, for example, would be a good fit, while “Magic” would not. For this game, you will get to spend 8 points worth of qualities, so you can have anywhere from 4 +2 qualities or one +8 quality. On top of that, pick one -2 weakness your character has – it will make them more believable and interesting. ----- Okay, how to character? First off, I kept the setting intentionally vague – feel free to make up as much as you want! I want cool characters, not characters that got cut down to size to fit a setting. Vampire Paladin? Kitsune Banker? Gnomish Dragon Slayer? Ogre Scholar? Go ahead! As long as it sounds cool, I’m fine with it. One thing of note: No, you do not get to be crown prince and fix all the problems. You do get to be an illegitimate heir who may not even really be the son of the king, though. Just don't expect to actually succeed, you're going to be drowned in political intrigue. :P With this in mind, I would like to see the following: - A character (duh) - A character picture, because those are nice. - Their qualities (also duh) Again, 8 points in +2 increments, and one -2 Weakness. - A description of their origin (If it’s within the kingdom, the city/region itself will do, but if you are from outside the kingdom or from the new territories, describe your ex-homeland) - Qualities for the region they’re from. That’s right, they will have qualities too! Specifically, +4 in Qualities and -2 in Weaknesses. They will mostly matter for GM stuff, but it helps fluff out the world. ------ Anything else? Yes, actually! Because I am lonely and also sick of not being able to contact my players properly, I’m making PM’s or IRC availability mandatory. Either one will work, both at the same time is very much preferred. You can find me on SynIRC, in the channel #swampthings pretty much all the time. (European Time, to be specific.) Deadline will be at some point on Friday the 15th of July. Also, help me find a good game-thread title (preferably with a physically painful pun) because I suck at those. Edit: Will be taking 10 people, not 5-7 like stated in the recruit thread because you guys are insane and also all really good at apping. Yami Fenrir fucked around with this message at 20:21 on Jul 9, 2016 |
# ? Jul 4, 2016 18:14 |
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# ? Mar 29, 2024 14:15 |
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Places of the Worldquote:Balduwin Sea quote:Sevvra - The Orm quote:Desert of the Red Vale quote:Achlor quote:The Western Archipelago quote:Sevvra, Vallensius' Ascent quote:Archean Reach quote:The Province of Niloufar quote:Arks Landing quote:The Slums of Arks Landing quote:Hissin quote:The Rainlands quote:The Spearhills quote:The Wyvern Clans quote:The Orc Theocracy quote:The Desolate Wastes quote:The Temple City of Vallen's Rest quote:Mistfall Yami Fenrir fucked around with this message at 16:57 on Jul 26, 2016 |
# ? Jul 4, 2016 18:15 |
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People of the Kingdomquote:Lady Beatrice de Wulfe quote:Pope Sahalnir XI quote:The Windspeaker quote:Petra Asfaran, the Wolf's Pup quote:Lucius quote:Amporus, Heresy Incarnate quote:Verenas of Talrimas quote:Ludwig of Urios, the Snake Yami Fenrir fucked around with this message at 20:53 on Jul 13, 2016 |
# ? Jul 4, 2016 18:15 |
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Interest post, need to read up on the system and see how viable a few ideas are.
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# ? Jul 4, 2016 18:32 |
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Interest post. Thinking about making some sort of fantasy pope. Did you have any preferences for the local religion(s) or am I free to come up with one?
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# ? Jul 4, 2016 19:28 |
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Interestpost, depending on actual availability and good inspiration
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# ? Jul 4, 2016 19:28 |
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fool_of_sound posted:Interest post. Thinking about making some sort of fantasy pope. Did you have any preferences for the local religion(s) or am I free to come up with one? There's very likely going to be a "main" religion, but feel free to be a cult/oppressed religion.
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# ? Jul 4, 2016 19:46 |
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Yami Fenrir posted:There's very likely going to be a "main" religion, but feel free to be a cult/oppressed religion. I'm fine with working in whatever the main religion is, if not as the leader than as a court bishop equivalent. I just need the major beliefs/political structure. e: Also, have you considered using Discord instead of IRC? You can still use it in browser, and it maintains a log for you. IRC is a pain to remember to long into and keep monitored.
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# ? Jul 4, 2016 19:52 |
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fool_of_sound posted:I'm fine with working in whatever the main religion is, if not as the leader than as a court bishop equivalent. I just need the major beliefs/political structure. I'm using Synirc as a browser tab just fine. I do have discord but my main place to find me is IRC.
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# ? Jul 4, 2016 21:28 |
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I've been waiting for something like this to come around. I'll get to creating an app soon.
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# ? Jul 4, 2016 22:53 |
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Interest post!
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# ? Jul 4, 2016 23:01 |
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Posting interest.
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# ? Jul 4, 2016 23:04 |
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Interest post.
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# ? Jul 4, 2016 23:32 |
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Posting interest as well. Thinking some kind of telepath, maybe a minor baron seeking more power or an underworld crime lord tightening his control on the shadows.
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# ? Jul 4, 2016 23:57 |
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I'm thinking of playing a Doctor Faust-esque character.
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# ? Jul 5, 2016 00:02 |
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I am also interested, probably playing as a draconic gnome slayer. I'm thinking a large and lazy dragon that oppresses gnomes, likes capitalism, and some third thing that may be cakes.
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# ? Jul 5, 2016 00:11 |
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^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ This is the second time this has happened in as many recruitments. If I have gone to heavy on the whole "Dragons are dying off" thing, I can edit and tone it down so it doesn't impact your character. Glaumdrang Wealth-Checker What do you mean interest rates are falling! Since time immemorial, their has always been great fear of the Dragon. In their full fury, they are a terrible sight; a whirlwind of wings and roars, fire hotter then the greatest furnaces and an intelligence that surpasses most mortals. You could call any man a suicidal fool for daring to face a Dragon alone and you would be right. However, a well-trained group of about thirty to forty, equipped with good steel and a knowledge of the terrain surrounding a Dragons favourite lair? Well, the first few such groups would certainly be proved fools to a man, with the odd, much celebrated success here and there. Over time though, you would start to get less and less fools and more and more nouveau riche bastards who have just fell into their share of a Dragons Hoard. Of course, this has already happened. The great Dragon shaped cat was let out of the bag and into the butchers shop over 400 years ago and it’s been one long massacre ever since. Less then ten eggs were laid last century, and less then 30 were laid the century before. The age of Draconic Fire is long over for the people no longer fear us. Now is the age of Draconic Wealth and we have a lot of hoards to reclaim. Glaumdrang started his life as most Dragons do; through raiding, pillaging and extortion. However, his greed was so great that, unlike most Dragons, he would lower himself to working for the two-legs. Not ruling them, or even working with them. Working [u]FOR[/u them]. At some points mercenary and other points bodyguard, Glaumdrang always had a familiarly for the flightless races and just how much gold you could squeeze out of them. His schemes were innumerable in his youth; transporting dignitaries and important dispatches, fuelling forges, even selling out his services to rich socialites eager for the experience of dining with a Dragon. A joke amongst his kin and some of the more brave two-legs, he was safely ridiculed by his peers. It was then he spent about month flying from port to port, checking prices and stocks. It was after that he bought ten ships, filled them with a part of his hoard and guarded them as they followed the same route he followed before. Buying here and selling there, for six months his fleet sailed the Balduwin Sea. And then he came back with ten times the gold he started with. No longer was he ridiculed by his peers. It was around this time the age of Dragons was well and truly over. His kin were slaughtered by the dozen year in and out, and all the while Glaumdrang sailed his route through the sea, making gold claw over tail. The odd Dragon-slayer group tried their hand over the years, but they are so much easier to deal with when the local mayor owes you a pretty penny from his poorly thought out business deals. This is how Glaumdrang first entered into the service of Sevvran, as money lender. Glaumdrangs gold kept the early kings and queens awash in fine spices and finer silks, indebting the kingdom a hundred times over as the wise Dragon eagerly fed their expensive habits. Then the first repayment came due. The look on poor Queen Wilhelmine II face as she learnt of the interest owed on her kingdoms debt to the wily Dragon is forever immortalised in the Foyer of the First Bank of Sevvran’s Capital Office, in a giant painting that cost almost as much as that first repayment to commission. Of course, much of this debt has been forgiven over the years in exchange for certain favours. The initial creation of the national banking institution, with Glaumdrang as it’s head in perpetuem is a good example. Since then, two hundred years have passed and Glaumdrang has been ensuring the financial health of the kingdom ever since while slowly building his influence and his fortune. +4 - First Bank of Sevvran: Appointed over 200 years ago, Glaumdrang is the head of the First National Bank of Sevvran, the only legal and official banking institution of the Kingdom. Responsible for the financial health of the Kingdom and the bank accounts of the both the rich and the poor, Glaumdrang is easily the richest being in all the Kingdom. +2 - Loans and Patronage the World Over: Glaumdrang not only has a pile of gold, he also has a pile of loans as well. Two hundred years is a long time to be one of the richest beings alive and he has had many people come to him on hands and knees for a handout. Sometimes these people must pay him back, sometimes they owe him a service in kind. And sometimes it is their children, grandchildren or extended family that owe him that service. +2 - A Dragon in his Prime: It’s easy to think of Glaumdrang in terms of gold and jewels, as the exotic guest at the innumerable parties of the nobility (which he usually pays for in some fashion). But don’t forget that Glaumdrang started out as every Dragon does, with fire and blood. Glaumdrang is old by mortal standards, but as a Dragon, he is in his youth. -2 Elder Race: The age of Dragons in over. There are less then a thousand left in this part of the world, and most are far too paranoid of dragon-slayers and other dragons to get onto the business of breeding. There are only 10 eggs Glaumdrang knows have been laid in the last hundred years. He knows this because he is paying a pretty penny to ensure their safety and good health when they finally hatch. Glaumdrang is one of the last of a dying race and he has no allies along racial or cultural grounds, only allies he can buy or cajole. --- Glaumdrang is ancient by most mortal standards and his homeland has faded from memory. However, the Balduwin Sea is where his exploits truly gained him notoriety, as he mastered the inland sea rich in ports and cities, taming the free flowing streams of money and production straight into his own pocket. The Capital of the Kingdom of Sevvran lays at the southernmost point of the sea and indeed, is probably the Capital only because the looping trade ships end their half-year crawls through the innumerable ports their. Dotted with islands and inlets, and huge rivers which let the great trade barges of far flung kingdoms bring their trade to the richest sea of the world. +4 - A Sea of Gold: The Balduwin sea is an inland, fresh water sea, larger then several kingdoms put together. A million two-leggers have put their homes on it’s shores and with them comes industry and trade. Although split among several republics and kingdoms, who each claim a share of the wealth, it is still the single richest sea known to man. -2 - Raiders, Pirates and Smugglers: A land as rich as Balduwin collects it's share of riff-raff and parasitic vermin preying on the wealth of others. From the far north, Nodling raiders swoop across the sea spreading terror in their deadly wake while Goblin Tik-Tok machines and great Dwarven steam ships abandon ideas of civility and fall into piracy. For the brave trader, the great Balduwin sea is the key to an almost limitless fortune, if you're lucky enough to avoid those who would take it from you. For a game name, I'm going to have to go with the simple "Rebellion? In my Kingdom?!" OscarDiggs fucked around with this message at 10:01 on Jul 5, 2016 |
# ? Jul 5, 2016 00:25 |
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Kiris-Or Information Broker +6 Spy Master- Kiris has an almost prenatural ability for ferreting out lies, for employing people who he can trust and for acquiring information that no-one is supposed to know. +2 Weapon Master- Kiris knows full well how many spy masters end up buried in shallow graves because they couldn't use a blade to save their life. So he has taken to learning how to use every single object as a weapon should the need for it arise. -2 Compassionate- Kiris has to know that his agents actions will bring benefit to people, he fears that his own actions may well harm others, and often checks to make sure that the people he attacks are truly deserving. History Welcome, do come in and seat yourselves. I have an excellent beer on tap for anyone who is thirsty. You may be wondering why you are here and, gods only know, you have good reason to. The simple fact is that I require information about your journeys to the far South over the last four weeks. Before your pained arguements that you have "no idea what you are suggesting" or "What makes you think I have been that way" I have already checked teh holds of your caravans and they are stuffed with newly minted Krasht imperials. Now the main reasons I think for that would be either Krasht wants you to get caught, in which case it did a bang up job because your papers are remarkably outdated, or they thought you bringing in silver coinage would help to weaken a war economy and already know that you are just the first batch. So I ask you again, why did you visit the South? Kiris-Or is a birdman from the capital city of Ark's landing. In his case the city was a reasonable one, born just before the middle years of "Good King" Leopold. He grew up amongst the communal rookeries of his people, making friends and listening. His people have always had a gift for memory, but Kiris took it to new heights, reeling off information for locals who wanted to know gossip, whilst still being capable of spinning a tale for tavern denizens. It was the latter that brought him to the attention of a petty noble of the Capital. Lord Rothsmere was a wealthy man with many enemies and so he hired the young "crow", as he insisted on calling Kiris, to run spy master games for him. Kiris found the man noxious, but the pay allowed him to start feeding his family properly. Lord Rothsmere was, however, becoming increasingly odd in his old age, continually asking questions about the activities of three men who he was convinced were plotting against him and the city fathers who refused to listen to him. Eventually Kiris learned that his employer was, in fact, completly insane. Now Kiris realised that the most sensible thing to do was to simply find another employer, but instead he thought he'd worked out a way to convince his employer of his trustworthiness and secure a future for his family. Kiris took to faking the supposed "communications" between the guild leaders and the other minor aristocratic by-blows that obsessed his employer, working out ways that they could be tied to it all the while using the money to purchase territory inside the rookery, turning it into an information net and employing most of his extended family. He began to have doubts when his employer began employing very broad men with broken blades and worse teeth to "deal with" his enemies. He began to have even more when, suddenly, he found his employer insisted on him staying in the house at all times with him for his "protection". But it was when the Lord took him beneath the house to show him what lay there. The people that lay there. Maimed and tortured based on rumours Kiris had started, some of them looked worse than dead and in the centre one of the toothless wonders, stripped to the waist with a knife. The last night of his employer ended in fire. The old man had not expected Kiris to walk calmly upstairs after this, then call in every favour he had with his people. They descended on his house like lightning. They butchered the toothless, freed the slaves and simply gutted the old man. They burned the house to the ground. Kiris learned that day, he started to act as a freelance information broker, and now knows people all the way to the furthest north at Lins Well, all the way down to the Krasht Imperium to the south. But he hasn't forgotten what information can cause. He still sends money to those that suffered, he still works one day a month as a drudge in the Penitents house. He knows well what he can do, and so he seeks to better the world and his people with it. To do this Kiris has started using his information for more than just noble politiking. He has started to look at the pieces before him, to see how much the Young King has done to damage the systems. Even with victory too much has been left to chance, with the finest blade as regent it may stop assassins, but it won't stop hunger. Kiris has realised he will need to do an awful lot to save a place for his people, and to save the kingdom from its own rulers. Homeland Sevvra- The Orm The imperial capital is a melting pot for the entire continent, hundreds flock to the grand Cathedral, to the garden palaces and to the markets and bazaars that make up its imperial oppulence. It is also the home of the second people of Vallensius. The Orm are crows grown to the size and intelligence of men, they are considered to be the descendents of the crow that first found the land where Vallensius could reascend, and to thank them for it he made the crow and it's mate to look more like his favoured acolytes. Or it could be the tale that the Orm tell themselves. That this was once the Ormsgard, before a choice was made that forced them into the cities and made it so that all magic went from this part of the world. But those tales are often not repeated too loudly, for fear that Elves may be listening. Now the Orm serve the King's, they act as greeters and announcers in the cities, devise the royal entertainments that are provided to the commons and are infamous for the control they have over the production of alcohol inside of the city walls. The areas they live are not quite so good as they could be, and there always a suspicion of magic, but they are tolerated after a fashion. After all, it is said that the doom of Sevvra would arrive should the orm ever leave the capital entirely. +2 Showmen by royal decree All manner of royal entertainments are given to the exclusive perview of the Orm, so that the peoples are not corrupted by the influence of beer and spirits. It's nonsense of course, but the decree allows the Orm a good deal of interaction with all areas of society, be they noble or criminal. Sometimes both at once. +2 Everyone in the Family knows The Orm are possible the most sociable of all those who live within the capital, but this goes double when dealing with family. Everyone in the community works alongside everyone else if there is an outside threat. All know the danger that could be posed if some of the rougher areas got into their heads that they could do partying better. -2 Ancient Curses The doom of Ormsgard is ancient, it was a pact made many hundreds of generations ago, but the Orm have to do certain practices before leaving the city, they have to protect certain areas and never ever mention their names in front of the elven rulers. "Be friends with the Fae all you like" say the elders "But their lords are our doom if they find our names". Josef bugman fucked around with this message at 07:48 on Jul 14, 2016 |
# ? Jul 5, 2016 00:58 |
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Samarah Ka Qismah, the Chosen Prophet “Our destinies are but grains of sand in a storm, and only God knows where we will come to rest.” It's only been a year since Samarah discovered her true purpose in life. No, not discovered... had it Revealed unto her. And since then she's known what the One True God Ra'Loah wills, followed Its commands, and oh yes - suddenly she can perform Miracles. Before that though, she was just a scholar - a clever and extensively traveled one, but not exactly terribly important in the grand scheme of things - and even before that a child born to merchants in the oasis city of Kitaab, near the Sevvranian border. Despite the efforts of certain zealots and warmongers throughout the kingdom, trade and immigration occurred freely between the Vale and Sevvran, and this flow of people and goods had made her parents wealthy. The youngest of seven, Samarah basically raised herself in the city's prized library devouring tomes, and in its bustling streets studying all the tradespeople and performers and officials would let her. Eventually faced with the prospect of either needing to start helping the family business or marry someone useful or wealthy, she took a third option and departed Kitaab in the dark of night, making her way towards Sevvran with nothing but the clothes on her back and a walking stick. And a backpack with several other sets of clothes, a heavy cloak, some books, a sturdy waterskin, three days worth of food, and several laden coinpurses. Spending a score and seven years traveling far and wide throughout Sevvran and beyond, Samarah played many roles in that time - alchemist, astrologer, librarian, writer, scholar, apothecary, courtier, tutor, scribe, herbalist, midwife, playwright - but never kept to one for long. Endlessly inquisitive, it was like she could figure out whatever she put her mind to, except what she was meant to do, meant to be. But then Ra'Loah appeared to her, and everything changed. Encamped along the roadside, nearly asleep, Samarah first noticed the fire. Her campfire, which she'd doused earlier, was not only aflame again - it was growing higher and higher, impossibly so, beginning to tower into the heavens. Stepping back for fear of being consumed by the magical pillar, the winds swept in from all directions, flowing along and around and among the dancing flames. There was an eye within the blaze, and once she saw it, she heard only a single name, "Ra'Loah!" And then she, for the briefest of instants, saw the Divine Will at work in the world, the True God that her people had been worshipping as merely one spirit among many, the Righteous Judgement that created and awaited All. And she fell to her knees, and wept and prayed, and knew what was demanded of her - and she rejoiced in having been chosen. Since then, Samarah's worked tirelessly towards exactly one purpose - seeing that Ra'Loah's Will is made manifest in the world, and more specifically, that Leopold IV and the Vallensin be replaced with a King (Queen actually, Samarah's foreseen it) and Faith more pleasing in the eyes of God. Guiding and aiding those who Ra'Loah's chosen for specific destinies, passing judgement on those who act against her God and Its agents, spreading word of his magnificence, converting her homeland to the One God, and seeking an heir destined for the Throne, Samarah's not hoping to make a mark on this world - she knows she will. She's foreseen it... character sheet posted:Name: Samarah Ka Qismah Desert of the Red Vale Conquered a scant six months ago by King Leopold IV, the Red Vale isn't even close to tamed by or integrated into the Empire yet - it's much too wild and ancient a land to have given up that easily. Located in the far east, its a kingdom of extremes: blazing hot days and frigid cold nights, miles and miles of forlorn emptiness yet a dozen Oasis of unimaginable opulence and history. Ethnically, religiously, and culturally distinct from the rest of the empire, its people are looked on with a mixture of fear and suspicion by much of the rest of the Empire - especially the most hidebound and zealous elements of its population. Region Stats posted:Oasis City-Forts [+2] - Due to the scarcity of water throughout the Red Vale, the areas within it that do contain access to plentiful amounts also hold host to the vast majority of the region's population, and have for centuries at the least. Mighty Oasis cities have been built up over time, doubling as both trading posts and well-provisioned holdfasts to dominate the surrounding region and protect those inside. Linked together by a network of trade roads and each ruled by a different clan, they're bastions of life and commerce in spite of the Vale's harshness. A bit about Ra'Loah and Its Cult posted:
Rauri fucked around with this message at 05:44 on Aug 12, 2016 |
# ? Jul 5, 2016 01:03 |
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OscarDiggs posted:^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ If it makes you feel any better I think our respective approaches to being a dragon are going to be wildly different. Mine is definitely much fatter, lazier, and literally devours the competition (and gnomes).
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# ? Jul 5, 2016 02:06 |
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Posting interest, be back with an idea when I can.
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# ? Jul 5, 2016 03:52 |
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Artur “The Sculptor” Regios Artur grew up in a fairly rural province, it was not an easy life, especially once it was discovered he had the Gift. Magic is not well loved among the common people, needless to say he was all too happy to leave when he was brought to the Colleges in Achlor province near the heart of the kingdom as was required by the laws. There he was trained in the arcane arts and sciences as all those who bear the capacity for magic must be. He was an eager student, learning everything he could. However, as time went by, he started to become disillusioned. He chafed under the strict taboos the Colleges and the Crown imposed on the study of magic, and he saw that all too often that political clout and connections were more important than skill or knowledge. Being a nobody from the backcountry meant that no matter how hard he worked he would never even be in contention for the more prestigious and challenging positions and opportunities, he’d be doomed to be some minor arcanist in some local keep. Disillusioned with the status-quo Artur began to look into some of the deeper and less well-known, some might say forbidden subjects. If he wanted a chance he needed to stand out. Unfortunately he didn’t understand that it was possible to stand out in the wrong way. When he started dabbling in Fleshshaping and proved he had a knack for it, he drew some quietly disapproving glances but people were willing to live with it if he kept quiet, in hopes his studies might yield something for a more acceptable field. However, once he made a breakthrough and invented the long mythological school of Indoctrination Magic that was too much. Artur managed to flee in the middle of the night a few hours before the Mage-Guards broke down his door to arrest him. Fleeing for his life with little more than the clothes on his back and his magical knowledge, Artur swore revenge. He would overturn this system, get his revenge on the mages and nobles that belittled him, and if that happened to put him in charge able to enjoy all the benefits and privileges he’d been denied his whole life, well that was just icing on the cake. Artur turned his eyes north, perhaps with his magic the once-dreaded barbarian hordes of the north would serve as raw material for his plans. Arcane Fleshshaping[+4] - A natural outgrowth of Healing, Enhancement, and Alteration magic, Fleshshaping magically alters the bodies at the will of the caster. This allows the creation of unnatural forms and enhancements, and the art is strictly forbidden both by the convocation of mages and an act of the crown under penalty of death. There are whispers that the study continues by dark mages in secret, but they are dismissed by most mages, after all who would risk death to pursue such an abominable and unnatural magic. Indoctrination Magic[+4] - A forbidden school of magic. Enchantment generally seeks to temporarily alter a person's perceptions and feelings, Indoctrination magic seeks to cause permanent changes in the target's personality. It is supposedly a myth, impossible, out of the reach of even the most aged and powerful magi. Those that believe so are half-correct, for they see it for obvious reasons as an offshoot of the Enchantment school. However, Artur, decided to approach things from a completely novel direction, not being trained in Enchantment he was able to realize that it was a fundamentally different practice, and trying to apply Enchantment principles was like trying to cut a log with a spoon. No, his novel approach has potentially unlocked an entirely new field of magic, were it not already taboo and forbidden. Unstable Alteration[-2] - In his flight from Achlor, Artur did not escape unscathed. Caught by a patrol he took what would normally be a fatal injury when a blade pierced his side, in desperation he used his own fleshshaping powers on himself to preserve his life. It worked, but the results aren't completely stable. Now in periods of high-stress, it has a tendency to become... active. The squirming flesh and sudden growths tend to mark him as something unnatural and blow whatever cover he might have. It is also not a pleasant sensation by any stretch of the imagination, but in Artur's mind a small price to pay for survival. --- Achlor Heartland of the Arcane[+4] - It is in Achlor that the Colleges of Magic are located. All those possessing the Gift, that innate spark that makes wielding the arcane possible are required to be trained here. As a result, it is a land rife with magical artifacts, libraries filled to the brim with scholarly tomes on all subjects, and the political power that comes with being the home of magic. If there’s something that is both magical and rare and you want it, odds are good it’s already in some collection at one of Colleges in Achlor. Mistrusted by the Masses[-2] - Just as magic is hated and feared by the commonfolk and some nobles, so too is Achlor disdained. Held up as an example of the decadent and the effete, disliking the province and painting all those who reside in it as monsters is a common thing. It puts a serious hamper on the power and prestige of the province, and keeps the mages and their ilk in check. For without the support of the crown and most of the nobility the province might well just be burned to the ground. Valhawk fucked around with this message at 03:58 on Jul 7, 2016 |
# ? Jul 5, 2016 04:46 |
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Will be posting an heiress of questionable/no legitimacy.
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# ? Jul 5, 2016 04:52 |
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Woah, thanks for all the apps/interest posts already, everyone! I will make a story/background post later. Here's some quick feedback on the apps (more detailed ones later, this is mostly about qualities): Artur “The Sculptor” Regios Good app! You're going to have to sell using mainly outside forces like the barbarians to me (it leaves a bit too little interaction chances with other players for my liking), but it's mechanically very well done. The only thing I'd like changed a bit is your character flaw. While it does work, the kingdom's mages aren't going to have much chance/interest of following you if you're going to focus on the barbarians as much. Kiris-Or I do like me some birdmans. Here's what I'd note: Blade fighting is a bit too narrow of a quality. You can go broader and more flavorful than that! Also, the homeland's qualities tell me nothing. And even if you fluff them out, they're kinda bland. Tell me more about their culture/their problems. Being okay at everything but also ONLY being okay with everything aren't very convincing qualities/flaws. Glaumdrang Wealth-Checker Your qualities are a bit wide-spread for being essentially the same thing. Consider merging them? Being the richest dragon in the world is kind of worth more than just +2, anyway. Also, your location needs a flaw. Yami Fenrir fucked around with this message at 22:04 on Jul 8, 2016 |
# ? Jul 5, 2016 05:32 |
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Yami Fenrir posted:Kiris-Or Will get to work on this. I didn't want to go too broad and just put "fighting" but I also didn't want to do "dagger fighting", will alter that when I get back tonight. And yeah, I'll change the set up, the community does need a heaping helping of work.
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# ? Jul 5, 2016 08:53 |
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Oh my this looks interesting! I think I'll re-app one of my earlier creations. Hopefully she'll find a home here. Sasha Snowdrake "I like need a title or somethin'? *Snort* Ay okay, how 'bout 'That pretty ogre lady?'" Subtle as a hammer to the face and just as pretty, ogres are (allegedly!) half-demonic beings that fare from the volcanic mountain ranges of the western archipelago, known mainly for their legendarily monstrous strength, gluttonous tendencies and their propensity for marauding locals to feed said tendencies. In this Sasha is no different. She too enjoys fights, both the part where you get to whack people and also the part where you take their stuff afterwards. On the other hand, she also recognizes that getting hired to do that is doubly good because you basically get paid twice, with both the payment and the loot. And as it turns out, the war torn Sevvran has many opportunities for an ogre warlord turned mercenary, both in prospective employers and the number of parties to crash. For whilst ogres have historically been viewed with animosity due to their aggressive nature, old disagreements quickly fade when extra muscle is needed in the tumultuous power struggles of the day... Of course, Sasha does not personally really care for the machinations of nobles, and in fact views their trickery with great disdain. Notably carefree and even strangely affable of attitude (well, as long as it isn't your property that is being smashed), she is content to traverse the lands of Sevvran, lending her considerable aptitude to whoever offers the best pay/raiding opportunities/booze. And really, why wouldn't she? She and her troupe just want to have a good time, in the way that only ogres know how. The rest of Sevvran can do whatever it wants to, really, as long as she has a face to punch and a keg to down at the end of the day. Traits: Strength [+4]: Among all the creatures that walk upon the earth on two legs or four or more, the strength of ogres is legendary. And amongst ogres, few quite so embody this singular claim to fame as well as Sasha does. Sure, perhaps she lacks technique. Perhaps she lacks finesse. But at some point, you're just so tough that style stops mattering. Warlord [+2]: A warlord and mercenary captain, Sasha has a lot of experience both in leading troops and keeping them in the proper shape and proper mood for fighting. And indeed, many an enemy that has confused her rough and carefree manner for simplicity has later cursed their folly after finding themselves outmaneuvered on the field of battle. Antimagic [+2]: Ogres seem to exhibit a natural aura of antimagic, which when honed to a fine edge like Sasha has, can be a potent force indeed. This is helpful since they consider most forms of magic, (especially the non-elemental and non-direct battlemagic varieties) to be cowardly to the extreme, and mages thus are some of their favourite punching bags/wedgie targets. Also probably the one thing that has kept their raiding fleets from being sunk by fireballs. Drawbacks: Ogre's honour [-2]: Sasha, and indeed ogres in general, are often thought of as cruel and capricious creatures, what with their terrorizing of the less fortunate. However, whilst they take loot and occasionally servants, and are notably rough of manners, they are surprisingly proud creatures and do adhere to a certain sense of honour almost religiously. They will not tell lies (and calling one a liar is a quick way to get your teeth kicked in), and are surprisingly 'fair', refusing to slaughter the helpless. Many folktales tell of clever farmboys challenging ogres to competitions and tricking the creatures, and whilst the stories of their stupidity are not based on reality, it is a fact that ogres are often willing to compete instead of fight (within reason and within areas they believe themselves to excel at, like feats of strength or drinking) when challenged in good faith, and will often even gimp themselves to prove their superiority. This is something that can be taken advantage of if you're clever, but you better be REALLY clever because if they sense trickery or attempts to abuse their goodwill, they will promptly stomp your rear end with extreme prejudice. Home The Western Archipelago A chain of active and semi-active volcanoes at a tectonic faultline that could maybe be called islands if you were being overtly generous, the closest ones about fifty kilometers or so from the Western coast. This is where the ogres live, and from where they hail, and a location most sailors would rather steer clear away from because honestly it's just nothing but trouble, even if navigating through them could save a lot of time on many important traderoutes. Gettin' toasty [+2]: The archipelago is best known for being so utterly inhospitable and difficult to traverse that it has basically been written off as a lost cause to inhabit or invade by creatures that are not ogres, who for the most part are tough enough to weather the heat of the lava flows and the gentle rumble of the occasional earthquake just as well as a human might a gentle summer breeze. Oceanborne Marauders [+2]: Not only are the ogres strong themselves, as an island people they have invested in powerful fleets as well as having a strong maritime and exploratory tradition (an ogre is rarely content sitting on their laurels for long, after all). Indeed, there is little that strikes fear into a sailor's heart quite like spying the gleaming black of an Ogrish Glasscutter squadron on interception course... Barren [-2]: Of course, being mostly made from barren rockface has the weakness of being made from barren rockface. Not much (read, basically anything) grows within the archipelago. Of course, the ogres don't really mind because this gives them an almost legitimate excuse to go elsewhere and take other people's stuff. Theantero fucked around with this message at 12:18 on Jul 5, 2016 |
# ? Jul 5, 2016 08:55 |
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Yami Fenrir posted:Glaumdrang Wealth-Checker Done and done.
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# ? Jul 5, 2016 10:02 |
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Interest Post, will come up with something after work.
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# ? Jul 5, 2016 10:42 |
jfc goons loving love PDQ games, which I will never quite understand. But I'll try to with an interest post. Leading thoughts; army general for coup-angle or fae/kitsune to destablize things for their safety.
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# ? Jul 5, 2016 13:42 |
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This sounds fun. I'm thinking an Anti-Paladin, but the sort who spends almost as much of his time trying to keep his various underlings in check as he does trying to advance his goals.
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# ? Jul 5, 2016 14:12 |
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Gamerofthegame posted:jfc goons loving love PDQ games, which I will never quite understand. Well it's probably because its bare bones enough you can use it as a catch-all. Which is why its use for godgames most likely. I mean it's kinda strange nobody made a better system for godgames but if ain't broke don't fix it?
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# ? Jul 5, 2016 14:31 |
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Yami Fenrir posted:Artur “The Sculptor” Regios I think my time would be half spent on build up the barbarians and half spent on trying to soften up the Kingdom to make a future potential invasion successful. That'd give me plenty of chances to intact with the politics of the kingdom and the other players as I tried to make sure the kingdom was as fractured and weak as possible. As to my drawback, I'll update it when I get home from work to refocus it on how unsettling and off putting most normal people, barbarians included, would find his magic if they know about it.
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# ? Jul 5, 2016 16:48 |
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Here, have some backstory if you care for such things! Just kidding, you should probably read this. Locations: Red Vale While most people know of its current state, few remember it's history. Sevvran's religion teaches when that their god, Vallensius, bled upon the world to give it life, a huge cloud blocked the Red Vale. Only a few drops pierced the layer, and it alone could not bring life to the desert - instead it turned into the red sand deposits we know today. The procedure to turn Red Sand into the wondrous shapes it is famous for is in fact a secret of the tribes, one that has not yet been tricked out of them. The desert has long since been claimed as place of religious importance to Sevvran, and in fact been settled by them - but for reasons unknown, said settlers drifted further and further away from the religious teachings, until they became the mysticism practitioners we know today. Due to numerous centuries of intermingling with various other People, barely any resemblance between the two people remains today. Sevvra, Vallensius' Ascent With its mild temperatures and many forests, Sevvra is a nice place to make a living. The border mountains provide it with adequate protection despite its central location on the continent, and the southern ports provide trade and seafood. Its central mountain, Vallen, is the holiest place in the religion of Vallensin - for it is said that when Vallensius had finished giving life to the planet, he intended to return to the heaven. But as he walked upon the earth, it could no longer support him - it sunk, creating the ocean. Undeterred, he blessed Sevvra with bountiful iron - said to be the only material to be able to support his heavenly feet. He then used the mountain as a stepladder to return to his heavenly domain. Both this, and its apparent lack of magic led Sevvran culture to develop a very strong martial tradition, in fact going as far as granting citizenship for joining the military. It is said that the Sevvran military is best equipped army on the entire continent - thanks to the sheer abundance of iron in exchange for most other resources. Even the warhorses are armored so heavily most weapons cannot pierce their barding. The Western Archipelago Scholars still argue if the landmass the ogres reside in counts as a series of islands - or the mountaintops of active volcanoes. The ogres will tell you that they're idiots and it doesn't matter one bit. And they're probably right! After all, the place is all but inhabitable for most beings. The ogres alone can survive in this hellish landscape - with earthquakes and volcanic outbreaks en masse, the Archipelago looks like the wrath of god more often than a landmass. It does have one redeeming feature, however - the rare resource called mercurial obsidian. Seemingly defying the known laws of the world, this obsidian floats on water, despite being much, much heavier than the wood ordinary ships use. It is, in fact, also far sturdier. These ships are called 'glasscutters', and somewhat ironic to their name, are far stronger than ordinary warships. Manned by ogres, these black ships often reach a size twice as large as any ship in the Kingdom's employ. However, the ogres do not often engage in ship to ship combat, instead preferring to ram their opponents and engage in close combat. Due to the size and weight mismatch, however, very few ordinary ships actually survive the impact. People of the Kingdom Lady Beatrice de Wulfe As much of a mystery today as she was when she first appeared, as the so called Silent Knight of Sevvran, this woman is quite infamous for several reasons. She first appeared masked before King Leopold III, she single-handedly defeated his entire retinue before swearing allegiance to him without saying a single word. In the years afterwards, this Silent Knight rose to fame in the military - quickly rising to the highest ranks and becoming Sevvran's Champion. All the same, nobody in the entire kingdom except the king was aware of her nature as a woman. See, while it was perfectly legal for a woman to join the military, it is frowned upon in Sevvran' society. A good 30 years later, this Silent Knight still served faithfully as Sevvran's champion - however, Leopold III was no more, and instead Leopold IV took the throne. In a move that both infuriated and surprised most people, Leopold IV named the Silent Knight his Regent. Unmasking before the nearly complete assembly of nobility, one can only imagine the outrage. Completely disregarding the opinion of the nobility, Lady-Regent Beatrice de Wulfe now leads the kingdom with the same sense of unwavering duty that she had as a soldier. However, while the number of honors and titles (including ones such as 'Gray Terror', 'Wolf of Sevvran', and 'Blade-demon') she has accrued during her service range in the hundreds, no such thing can be said about her ability to hold a kingdom together. It has very quickly become clear that her place is on the battlefield, not on a throne. Sadly, she refuses to budge, citing the royal order of King Leopold IV. Many have tried to violently dislodge of her the throne, absolutely none have succeeded so far. While surely, many of the stories claiming her to be less woman and more invincible god of war on the battlefield are surely massively exaggerated... the fact remains that she is a terrifying foe to face in battle, and one needs to exercise caution lest they meet the business end of her blade. Glaumdrang Wealth-Checker, you know this woman by another title... Dragonbane. How does this influence you? Samarah Ka Qismah, you had a chance to speak to this woman. Tell me of the content of this conversation, and what happened afterward. Also, what surprised you about her? Damning Secrets: ??? ??? ??? ??? ??? Pope Sahalnir XI Having risen to the prestigious title of pope, Sahalnir XI leads the religion of Vallensin with an iron fist. Detractors call him a fanatic at best and lunatic at worst. Regardless, as long as you're following the commandments of the faith, you are relatively save from him... unless you anger him in some other way. He hates half-breeds intensely, and will stop at nothing to purge these perceived abominations - earning him much ire from the dwarven neighbours of Sevvran, who are much more tolerant of such a practice. He preaches the purity of strength, and urges his followers to achieve physical perfection - some say, however, that this is merely outside pressure from the military. The faith as a whole despises magic, seeing it as a corrupting weakness and messing with forces too eldritch to truly understand. Only in Achlor, the heartland (and prison) of the arcane, is the practice allowed - and that's only due to personal decree from the Leopold III, much to the pope's chagrin. He is one of the most outspoken and influential detractors of Lady Regent Beatrice, and his followers have on more than one occasion clashed with people loyal to the Lady Regent, creating a sort of shadow war between the two. He also been very busy organizing extensive missionary campaigns, largely centered on the heathen tribes of the Red Vale. These campaigns are scarily successful, but a common rumor is that torture is in use and the heathen religions still practiced in secret. As of late, it appears his old age has started to catch up to him - he is showing himself less and less, and it is clear he will soon have to step down soon if his health continues to decline. Damning Secrets: ??? ??? ??? Yami Fenrir fucked around with this message at 19:07 on Jul 5, 2016 |
# ? Jul 5, 2016 18:40 |
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Archean Reach Magical Nexus [+2] - Sitting atop a unique ley line nexus, the Reach is source of both powerful magical crystals and other products, as well having a surprisingly high proportion of magic users amongst its people Outcast Haven [+2] - Magically active, speaking a strange tongue and following a strange god...in the first days after conquest, Archea became a haven for various outcast groups, from strange cults to half-breeds to dishonored Sevvran nobility. The diverse population may be fractious, but it does give a range of people to call on. Conquered [-2] - Archea itself has been ruled and beaten down so long, there's little fight among its people. The first Leopold marched on the Archean Reach some centuries ago, bringing the modest principality into the Kingdom. The mountainous terrain and remote location made some wonder why it was worth the effort. Leopold I, though, knew the true prize course through the land itself - six separate ley lines crossed through the Reach, imbuing the area with immense magical energy, which in turn seeped into the rock, creating magical crystal which could be mined and used to fuel magic across the realm. The Supreme Faith of Sevvran technically opposed magic, a doctrine conveniently overlooked in this era, with some Prestors arguing the Holy Writs only meant Demon Summoning or dark magic, rather than magic as a whole. Clearly the Six Spirits meant Humanity to have magic to heal, to protect, to light the darkness. The economic realities made overlooking strict doctrine easier. Leopold I knew the value of magic for both war making and economics. A sorcerer could enable communication across great distance, protect a ship from storms, even slow a marauding dragon. If some of the more pious individuals weren’t comfortable with it...well, the King knew best anyway, and it’s not as if that type came to Court much. So the armies of Sevvran marched on Archea. Muscle and steel against wards and incantations, and if the latter were ten times as effective, it still couldn’t come close to evening the odds for the small kingdom. In the end, it was their simple humanity that did them in. Never a verdant place, as the war ground on Archea became blasted, field stripped. Refugee fled to the city of Archea itself, swelling the population and burdening already stretched supplies. Even the High Sorceress needed to eat. The Sevvrans settled into a siege, pushing the Archeans to greater and greater heights of desperation. For every ward they established or strike they launched, the Sevvrans seemed to have more men. They were outnumbered, and only a truly bold move would break the siege in time for them to survive. A team of warcasters traveled six weeks under disguise to the heart of the enemy. The attack was not honorable. It was not sustainable. And it was certainly not subtle. A release of pure magical energy, sacrificing the attackers, destroyed a third of the city, pulverizing stone to dust, setting wood alight, splitting one of the smaller mountains of the city in two. The Archeans badly misjudged their enemy. Far from being scared into submission, Leopold I broke the siege and forced his way into the city. The enraged army would have slaughtered every last man, woman and child – in an act of mercy, Leopold I focused the army on the Great Sanctum, heart of Archean government. The body of the High Sorceress twisted from the spires for six days. Thus did Archea fall, becoming the Province of Archea. In Court, there were those who argued for complete depopulation of Archea, its untrustworthy, vile population too dangerous to live. Even some in the nobility had found religion, and every sermon now seemed to turn on the evils of magic. Leopold had a problem. He knew magic was both a valuable asset and a tremendous danger, not to mention a huge source of rage and fear for the population. Rather than destroy it or ban it, he did the next best thing – contain it. And not in Archea, recent trouble spot, but to Achlor, where magic was controlled, tamed into the Colleges. Leashed. The Sevvran Magic Laws required anybody with an inkling of magical ability to travel to Achlor, study in a college, and be available for military or civil service. Archea’s native magical techniques were outlawed, study of them forbidden without direct approval from the crown. Tired, beleaguered, beaten, the Archeans caved. Many traveled to Achlor, doing the minimum to keep the crown off their back before returning home, while others slipped through the cracks, becoming part of the underworld or setting off for places anew. For every thousand that acquiesced truly, one still held pride in their heart, memory of what it was to be Archean. Inevitably, every decade or two, just enough of the troublemakers would get together and make a strike for Archean independence. As if burning down a storehouse or executing some minor noble would shake the Sevvran boot off the Archean neck. With each futile act, the Sevvrans would step down just a bit harder. Production quotas would go up, military patrols would increase, a few more hundred Sevvran settlers would arrive in the Archean steppe. So the cycle continued, for decade after decade. Leopold III opened a brief time of optimism. Never quite comfortable with the more brutal activities in Archea, he granted the tiniest scintilla of local governance to the province, and removed the more overzealous garrison commanders. All that came to an end with the King’s death. Leopold IV, he’s a conqueror, and who would entertain the idea of independence when he gobbles up Hissin, scarfs down the Vale, and sets his sights on more and more of the continent. Lavelle Ingernassa High Sorceress of Archea They call her the High Sorceress. She calls herself that. If she's not strictly entitled to the semi-hereditary title...no matter. Surely she'll hold that title when Archea rises up and pushes off Sevvran domination. Her closest followers call her a visionary and the true heir of the Archean Mageocracy. Her detractors call her an impostor, far more focused on self-aggrandizement than Archean freedom (or, Goddess forbid, the Archean people themselves). Others call her Dark, or even the Queen of the Damned - but certainly not to her face. Qualities: Queen of Shadows [+4] - A talented and powerful Sorceress, Lavelle can draw on a range of magical spells and incantations. Her particular focus is on concealment, scrying and direct combat. Cult of Archea[+4] - Those who know of them call them the Cult of Archea, although they usually refer to themselves as just 'The Group'. In theory they have several thousand members, although the cell structure of The Group makes it difficult to get a solid estimate. Lavelle keeps around her a dozen trusted lieutenants, most trained in the secret Archean magical arts, making them extremely effective spies and assassins. Weakness: Death to Oppressors! [-2] - Driven and talented though she may be, Lavelle is also wrathful, spiteful and petty, prone to twist a knife to even a score, even when better judgment would stay her hand. Platonicsolid fucked around with this message at 12:00 on Jul 9, 2016 |
# ? Jul 5, 2016 20:46 |
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Here's my submission. I'll be getting Platinum this Thursday, so you'll be able to contact me through PM then. Also, I'm loving everyone characters! They're all so interesting, and I'm really looking forward to the game kicking off and all the intrigue that will follow. Count Edvard Marcel Borde, Lord of Niloufar No price is too high for my people's salvation. Niloufar was settled with the best intentions. It was a fertile land that could sustain the growing population of Servvan, and its northern mountains showed great promise for the acquisition of precious materials. And indeed, things went well for the settlers. For seventy-six years the province prospered, and its people lived comfortable lives in relative security. However, such peace was not to last. Sevrran had continued to expand, and with every new farming settlement founded a little less wealth poured into Niloufar. And then came the sudden and violent realization that they had settled on Orcish holy land. The hordes came without warning, over running the outskirts of the provinces and brutally slaughtering all those who crossed their paths. The Count sent for aid from the capital, but Niloufar's importance had waned and the Province found itself largely ignored by the Nobility of Arks Landing. With no help from the rest of the kingdom, Niloufar stood alone against the Orcish warbands. That is the reality that Edvard Marcel Borde found himself born into. The 27th count of Niloufar, he found himself in charge of his region's defense. But resources were scarce, and his pool of able-bodied men diminished with every siege. Like his ancestors, he had appealed to the King but once again found that his petitions were ignored out of hand. Frustrated and without anyone else to turn to, Edvard instead delved into the archaic tomes of his family's estate for answers. Within those halls of knowledge was mention of demons and the rituals needed to bind them to the service of mortals. Although a sane man might question the risk, Count Borde was desperate for his people's protection. He dug deeper into the forbidden arts, his studies eventually concluding with a ritual of unimaginative defilement. And although the status of his soul might have been put into question, Edvard has received the power that he needed. Within months the armies of Niloufar has been empowered by the power of the Fel, and for the first time in centuries, the warbands began to lose ground. Edvard was a hero to his people, and his demonic dealings were kept hidden from the rest of Sevvran by the courts indifference towards the province. But his people still deserved better, and Sevvran had yet to make up for centuries of neglect. And with his new found power in hand, Edvard plans to make sure that both of those issues were settled in a satisfactory manner. +4 – Master of the Fel: Through deplorable rituals dedicated to false gods, Edvard has gained mastery over the foulest form of magic. Destructive and corruptible to a fault, the Fel taints everything it touches in return for its incredible power. By sacrificing the lifeforce from the environment around him, the use of such magic can bring destruction to one's enemies and summon forth demons from the farthest realms. With more careful use, one can even empower both steel and flesh with its unholy power. +4 – Count of Niloufar: Although its golden age is long since passed, Niloufar still provides its ruler with considerable resources. Both wealth and manpower are at Edvard's commands, and his status as a Count gives him a good amount of influence and respect outside of his own borders. -2 – Corruption of Body and Soul: The use of Fel magic is both addictive and destructive, twisting mind, body, and soul. Wielders of this forbidden art become ever more desperate in their thirst for power, even as their flesh becomes warped by the dark energies coursing through it. Edvard has thrown all caution to the wind in the pursuit of his people's salvation, and his reckless use of Fel energies has begun to twist his physical form into something that more resembles the entities with whom he has traded. Even now he feels the thirst for lifeforce that grips his demonic partners, increasingly needing to sustain himself by ripping it from his foes. But perhaps the larger problem is his debt to the demonic hordes he has traded with. His destiny is no longer his alone, and his plans are often waylaid by the demands of his creditors. Home The Province of Niloufar Nestled on Sevvran's eastern-most borders, Niloufar is a province under siege. For centuries the orcish hordes have ravaged its lands, gaining ground with every decade. Its people lived in fear, and its armies weakened against the onslaught. It is only through Count Edvard's Borde pacts that they have begun to win this endless war, and his victories against their most hated enemy had made him a hero to his people. Expansion has begun, and a massive rebuilding campaign has been started by the Count's Court. +4 – Feltouched: Possessing no natural advantages, the strength of Niloufar has been built off the back of infernal magics. With Edvard's guidance, the Fel has touched every aspect of life in the province and demons are regularly employed within its borders. This has granted them power beyond their natural means, even if it is at the cost of the region's health. -2 – Under Siege: Niloufar is under constant siege from the orcish warbands of the area. They march incessantly towards its heart, and much of the provinces daily life is spent in defense of its lands and people. Although the tide is starting to turn, the current situation is anything but safe. Savidudeosoo fucked around with this message at 22:07 on Jul 11, 2016 |
# ? Jul 5, 2016 21:20 |
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EDIT: Ver 2.0 Lord Commander Viktor Von Voss "Before we begin here, let me inform you of my credentials." "50 years in the service of the Sevvran Legion from private to sergeant all the way up to a full blown commander, I have seen action in every corner of this continent from the last two dragon wars to the full duration of the Dark Empire's final collapse. I fought every bugger within a hundred miles of Sevvran for king and country and for this honour I was made into Lord Commander of the Legions by his majesty Leopold III in recognition for my continued service. I respected his majesty and I didn't hesitate for a moment about the righteousness of our causes, he was a good king and that was all there was to it. "His son... I was present for the conquest of Hissin and even led the assault on the palace, and in the annexing of the Red Desert harrying of our supply lines would have crippled us were it not for several surgical strikes ordered by me. But we have pushed too far, too fast, and we are starting to buckle under the strain of managing this empire. I tried to inform his majesty of this eventuality, cautioned him to consolidate our current holdings but he didn't seem to want listen to my council like his father would have and after the last military campaign was concluded I found that I was being sent on a very important assignment by the king himself. To enforce Martial Law back home in Sevvran and assist the Lady de Wulfe in her regency. "Martial Law has been declared I was informed, I must return to Sevvran and see that order is kept, by force if necessary and such orders brooked no disobeying from the King himself. The Lady De Wulfe was one of the greatest fighters of the new generation and has requested aid to deal with dissident elements in the crown-lands. For although a demon on the battlefield she was, she could not solely handle the enemies arranged against her on her own. And so, I stepped in and between Sevvran's greatest warrior, and it's greatest tactician we have held fast against all those who would see our nation destroyed from the inside. "And yet in my heart, I am troubled. For the first time in the history of my career I am having, doubts about the orders of my beloved king. I have studied the military histories of many nations and they tell me one thing and one thing only, a nation that extends it's borders in this manner has never stood the test of time, it always fails and in my hearts of hearts I know that if this was to occur, it would take my beloved nation with it. This course of action is unwise to the extreme, but his highness will not heed the council of his father's advisors, and no military power can match our own in equal strength. We won't be destroyed from a force without, we'll be brought down from factions from within" "And I cannot allow our nation to be destroyed in this manner, no matter what the cost is I will defend my homeland to the death. Be it my death, or the death of some bastard who wises to see it ground into dust." The Bear of the North [+4] Viktor Von Voss did not reach 50 years in a dangerous profession by being a bad fighter. Viktor's skill with the sword and shrewd tactical mind have made him a boon to his allies, and a man of great infamy to his enemies. A man like that is not afraid to fight dirty today, to live to see tomorrow. And everyone knows the legacy of 'The Bear', in his long and storied history as a warrior he has made a name for himself that has spread all across the world, or at least those parts of it that he might have set foot on. Captain and Commander[+4] Even if he may have been forcibly retired from the front lines of the war, Lord Commander Von Voss is still one of the highest ranking officers in the entirety of the Royal Legion, and has his hands on so many strings that he may pull at any one time that people often suspect that he ran the foreign legion even before his official appointment. As such he can call upon almost every aspect of Sevvran's expansive military infrastructure, and even some vaguely related civil structure to attain what he may need. Honourbound to a Fault [-2] Lord Von Voss has spent most of his adult life in military service, a role that does not offer much in the way of duplicity or subterfuge a lot of the time. As such whilst he has a good grasp of stewardship to run the backbone of an army, and knows everything about soldiering back to front he isn't home to the political manuverings that is normally part of his class. Hence why he got reassigned to a position back home without knowing about it until the orders were in his hands. --- Arks Landing Heart of the Empire [+2] Arks Landing, greatest of cities, first of nations, founder of empires. All roads lead to the Ark as the center of Sevvran's political and military structure and all subject nations serve it's whims. The Crossroads of Trade [+2] And with those roads comes trade from nearly all corners of the world, The Capitol is the beating heart of commerce for hundreds of nations, thousands upon thousands of people toil endlessly to sustain the Capitol. It is said that you could get just about anything on the busy streets of Arks Landing. Barely Holding Together [-2] And it's coming under considerable strain. The King has put all his efforts behind the conquest of his neighbors, but without his presence a lot of important functions cannot move properly, and his Regent isn't much better at handling the sprawling bureaucratic mess that is maintaining order at the center of an empire. The moment something breaks down, it will all start to break down. TheNabster fucked around with this message at 22:16 on Jul 8, 2016 |
# ? Jul 5, 2016 22:34 |
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Sam Vines vs. the lich-count vs. a dragon banker, vs. bird-persons vs. the people's front of sorcery vs. the ring of fire orge kindoms vs. a gender swapped prophet Mohammad should be magical.
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# ? Jul 5, 2016 23:32 |
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Klaus88 posted:Sam Vines vs. the lich-count vs. a dragon banker, vs. bird-persons vs. the people's front of sorcery vs. the ring of fire orge kindoms vs. a gender swapped prophet Mohammad should be magical. Right? Everyone's characters are soooo good.
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# ? Jul 5, 2016 23:47 |
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Okay, updated my section. Also, holy poo poo these guys are cool.
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# ? Jul 6, 2016 00:31 |
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# ? Mar 29, 2024 14:15 |
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The Prince of Pigeons "I am the Will of the People" A girl, barely five years old, slithered through the crowd at the Grand Leopold Plaza, her wild mop hiding her face, her body covered in soiled rags. She passed by many merchants, overlooked many a fat pouch, her nimble fingers guided not by greed, but by a Will not quite her own. There, she suddenly knew, him. A merchant from the Red Vale, remarkable only on account of his dress, was her target. She ducked into the stall next to his, held up her hands pleadingly to the annoyed apothecary, who made as to wave her away. Brushing aside her locks, she revealed the pocks that marked her face, to the great shock of the greying quack. Picking up the staff that came with his vocation, yet never drawing upon the compassion that was supposed to accompany it, he chased her out of his stall, and right into the Red Vale merchant's wares. In the tumult that followed, her fingers found the merchant's purse, her feet and eyes the path to safety. The coins she'd found were hers, but the papers, they were for the Prince. ~~~ Across the city, an aging beggar sat on the steps of the Cathedral of Saint Sahalnir I. He held up his bowl to receive the bread that was doled out there each and every day at noon. "May it nourish the body and the soul," said the priest that dropped a hunk of bread in his bowl. The soul overflows in gratitude, whispered the beggar's inner strength with just a hint of sarcasm, as his head bobbed and nodded, apparently witless and grateful. With a fluidity that belied his fragile body the old man tugged away his bread in a sack underneath his threadbare tunic and rose to his feet, following the procession of the Breadgivers as they ascended the stairs. They'd run out of bread and the hungry crowds thronged about the gates of the cathedral as they shut, the Gatekeepers warding off the desperate souls with clubs and sticks. An opening to your right, he knew without seeing, as he rolled reflexively between two of his fellow paupers who had almost too fortuitously blocked the vision of the guards. Inside, the man shadowed the Breadgivers, hearing their sneers regarding the weak and feeble, but also hearing their gossip. "Have you heard? Apparently the bread will be mixed with sawdust, so that more of the alms might be directed to the Pope's efforts to unseat the Gray Terror." "And better that it is so, good bread won't save them from their fallen state, but Sahalnir surely will." They all laughed and turned into the Priests' Quarters. The Will receded, and the beggar ate his bread by the light of several votive candles, saving only a scrap. He slipped out of the Cathedral only after he had left a little of himself smeared on the seat of the Pontiff. ~~~ A speck on the horizon drew nearer the city, quickly joined by many more as it reached the city's outer limits: a great flock of messenger pigeons flew constantly to and fro, both from within and from without Arks Landing. Many of the pigeons were of noble stock, bred not only for their accuracy, but also for their appearance. Not this pigeon from afar, though. It was as mottled as could be, with some bald patches here and there, and half the toes on its right foot missing. Still, it flew stronger and further than most, and it carried messages all the same. It knew where it was going, too, as it flew past the delightful smells of the city's richer quarters, something stronger than its meager instincts calling it, straight towards the heart of the Slums. ~~~ Another man, obviously stately even beneath the voluminous folds of his ancient grey robes, walked with confidence through the Slums of Arks Landing, his face hidden beneath the deep cowls of his robes. These were his people. This was his kingdom. If only it extended beyond the Slums. None of the news was good for the poor and weak of Sevvran: those able-bodied among them who hadn't been shepherded off to war found their infrequent wages severely curtailed by increased taxes. Alms became fewer and fewer as those with money locked their coffers and purses tight, wary of the long, hard times to come. Under the stewardship of Lady Beatrice, the militia's incursions into the slums had become more frequent and more violent, claiming seditious behavior, nefarious rumors and public health and safety issues as the cause. They hadn't penetrated to the very heart of the Slums yet, though, nor would they ever, for its labyrinthine reaches provided too big an obstacle for even the Wolf of Sevvran to face. Here, peace and order reigned through his Will and his Will alone. The little girl approached him as he drew near what he mockingly called his throne room: a three-legged stool which he had placed in one of the few paved and open spaces in the Slums. She knelt, held out the papers she had gathered for him. He ruffled her hair, his fingers brushing unworriedly past the pustules on her face. Human diseases did not bother him. They confirmed his suspicions: the Red Vale was rumbling. From one of the many hidden pockets of his robes, he produced a honeyed sweet and gave it to the little girl, sending her off back into the streets. From the shadows, many more approached to show their respects. Some brought tidings, some brought small offerings, often just scraps of bread the beggars saved for him from the daily Breadgivings. These he stored in a small woven hamper. He dispensed advice, wisdom and some orders, too. To the needy, he redistributed the coins he had himself received from the luckier inhabitants of the Slums, to the children, he gave sweets. He gave them purpose, he gave them worth. If only they knew. On and on it went, until it came time for him to check up on those denizens from which he took his name: his pigeons. Picking up the hamper, he bowed his head to the flock that yet remained. From the throne room, he ascended to the higher part of the slums through various hovels that had been stacked one on top of the other, until he found himself in his tower: a raised platform occupied by many haphazard coops. The sound of cooing was loud in the air, these birds knew him, they knew him well. From his hamper, he fed them the scraps of bread he had received this day. As they fed, he checked upon the new arrivals. Messages from all over Sevvran found their way here, sometimes stolen, sometimes copied, but often just sent to him, for he had many friends, and he knew many secrets. It was astounding what a Will as strong as his could achieve. People were weak. Yet an army of weaklings could be a powerful tool, for a Will as strong as his. He would rise on their tide, just as he had planned so many years ago. Failing that, at least he wouldn't go hungry. +4 - Illithid Psionic - Hiding beneath the hood of those ancient grey robes is a head that sprouts tentacles as manifold as the minds the Prince controls. The Prince of Pigeons --a name mostly chosen for its mystique and mass appeal-- is a powerful specimen of the most reviled race of Illithids. Sent to keep an eye on the affairs of the capital of Sevvran, the Prince's ambitions quickly got the better of him, and he established himself as a seemingly benevolent ruler of the poor and dispossed of Sevvran. His actual intentions are far more sinister: to gain the Throne of Sevvran and to make the nation very hospitable to his brethren --after they submit to him, of course. +4 - Prince of Pigeons - It wasn't all tentacles and psionics that got the Prince where he is today. Over the years, the Prince has managed to establish a network of informants and spies throughout Sevvran, who communicate with him by pigeon. The pigeons are of course heavily indoctrinated, but many of his agents are motivated either by self-preservation, greed, self-righteousness or plain old boredom, not so much by the whisperings of an aberrant mind. -2 - Keeping up Appearances - The Prince of Pigeons is not who --or what-- he seems. While his current goals align quite well with the persona he's created for himself, he might well find himself undertaking ventures that are not necessarily beneficial for his constituency, or in line with his stated agenda of social change. Though he might be able to persuade his followers of his good intentions when the masks slips once or twice, working against the interests of the poor too often might well erode his power-base, and expose him to scrutiny that might not be quite beneficial. The Slums of Arks Landing The Slums of Arks Landing are famed for many things, their size not least among them. Lapping at the edges of the city proper like a fetid brown wave of ramshackle huts, stacked one atop the other, they always seem to threaten the city with an outpouring of diseases, fires and rebellions. To many, the Slums are an unwelcome, if unavoidable, part of the city: best avoided, unless travelling through them on the way to yet another place. But to its inhabitants, and to those true connoisseurs of this urban phenomenon, the Slums offer many things: community, shelter, opportunity. Having been built on the remnants of the old iron mines of Arks Landing, long since depleted, the Slums reach deep into the earth, incorporating tunnels and caverns into its labyrinth of dwellings, hovels, shops of all sorts, and confraternities of mutual support. One could get lost there easily, either intentionally or by accident, but one can also find there much of what is deemed too illicit or too dangerous for the civilized world. Truly, one of the Slums' greatest attractions is its Black Market, literally black, as its held within those tunnels and caverns that once contained coal besides the more desirable iron ore. +2 - Labyrinthine - The Slums consist of a vast network of hovels, streets, alleys, tunnels, caverns, and haphazard buildings stacked and leaning upon each other in seemingly random, haphazard ways. This quality has proven the Slums' greatest defense against outside incursions: streets can change from one day to the next, and there's always a hiding hole to be found. Incursions both by the city's militia and by preachers of the Church have proven futile. Entire squadrons of guards have been swallowed by the vast labyrinth, never to be seen again, and those few preachers that could stand the stench, quickly lost track of where their churches and flocks were actually located, sometimes having to pray, but most often just pay, their way out the Slums. +2 - Black Market - Deep within a long depleted coal mine, Arks Landing's Black Market is located. Supported by several dens of iniquity, thieves and smugglers, the Black Market offers both mundane and arcane wares that are often restricted or entirely illegal within the Kingdom of Sevvran, but can nevertheless be found in abundance here. The Black Market is an open secret: many have riled against it, but none have managed to overcome it, for gathering both the forces necessary to disperse it, and then to maintain its dispersement has proven hard, impossible even. Plus, some of its profits undoubtedly find their way into the hands of some of the Kingdom's bureaucrats, who might then feel obliged to turn a blind eye to its existence. -2 - Volatile - The Slums play host to a great multitude of peoples, from many races, descents, and nations. All these people bring with them their gripes, their customs and their diseases. Hence, the Slums are a breeding place of pestilence, of discontent, and also of urban fires, for its hovels are not what one would call fireproof. It takes but a little to ignite the powder-keg that is the Slums, and once ignited, there's no telling what it might belch forth. Edit: I have PMs Cambrinus fucked around with this message at 20:21 on Jul 9, 2016 |
# ? Jul 6, 2016 05:54 |