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The Nightmares Underneath - 1,001 Arabian Nightmares Some Music tl;dr Arabian Nights + Darkest Dungeon via OSR + PBtA Free Version of Rules  From beyond the veil of sleep, inhuman forces invade. It is known to one and all among the blessed citizens of the Kingdoms of Dreams: Law has triumphed over Chaos and reigns supreme. Voices together have united in radiant purpose: to cast out the uncertainties and violence of chaos and disorder forevermore and together to rejoice in jubilant celebration of reason and justice. It is the duty and honor of every individual to lend aid to that which is good and cast out that which is evil, for it is known to one and all: so too must a society let flourish what makes it stronger, that it may root out the corruption that would debase it. So it is known that idolatry must be condemned, for once the world was ruled by false gods--and chaos reigned supreme. Beneath the gods of the idolaters, wars would never end, innocents were slaughtered--and man and woman were cast out by their own people, forced into hiding to die off in isolation. Great plagues of legend walked proudly and openly throughout the land, spreading in their wake misery, death and abomination. History reminds us that these false gods made ever harsher demands of humankind, their whims and vanities of great cost to human souls. In our dark past, man and woman enslaved themselves to false and wicked gods, denying their own humanity and connection to the Divine--the source of all creation--outcast from society, the prime force for harmony and order in our world. We are a most fortunate people, for the triumph of reason has saved us from oblivion--for in the cosmic balance, it is the will of the Divine that humanity be the steward for this material world. These lands we dwell upon are not to be squandered and discarded: we have been charged with their protection by the law and it is our solemn duty to nourish and conserve them, that we may give life unto them just as they have given life unto us. Praise be unto the prophets of the Law, joined by the scholars of the Divine--that we may live and thrive most harmoniously, free from the infernal machinations of all-consuming chaos and its false gods. =============================================================================== We live in The Age of Law, a glorious era in which the Kingdoms of Dreams no longer labor under the weight of superstition and tyranny. Together, we live in an age of science and reason, freed from the shackles of barbarous idolatry and the petty and capricious whims of priests and gods--freed from an era of savagery, plunder and war. Yet, there is a shadow which lingers across the lands of the Kingdoms of Dreams--beneath those lands, from which invading nightmares lurk and seek to gain purchase to the light. It had been a rare thing, at first: strange sanctums and peculiar precipices forming the gaping maws from which monstrous terrors could once more enter the world. In time, the incursions have begun to emerge with increasing regularity, threatening great peril. These insidious creatures of nightmare seek to disrupt the rule of Law and drag the blessed inhabitants of the Kingdoms of Dreams down to unspeakable hells, away from all that is Good and Just. These 'dungeons' beneath the ground are extensions of the very nightmare realm which now invades the dreaming kingdoms--and while the 'nightmare incursions' can take many forms, they are all almost invariably opposite of the sunlit world above: dark, cramped, claustrophobic, these are underground lairs, catacombs and worse inhabited by those hateful, chaotic beings cast away in the Age of Law. Most who enter the nightmare realm are gripped by madness, for the terror is too much for their minds to handle--but some people are different; these individuals are not affected in this way, and can enter the nightmare realms and wage battle with the terrors that dwell within. A call spreads throughout the Kingdoms of Dreams for these brave individuals to rally forth and vanquish the chaos which seeks to lead us all to ruin. We enter the Age of Heroes.     Here's the skinny: This is a recruitment jaunt for the very newly released Nightmares Underneath, which reads on the tin: "The Nightmares Underneath is an old school role-playing game with a strong horror theme, set in a fantasy Middle East where dungeons are invading nightmares intent on the destruction of civilization. In the Kingdoms of Dreams, all is right with the world—except for one thing. Even though the Law has triumphed over the powers of Chaos, banishing idolatry and superstition in favor of science and reason, humanity is still threatened by a dangerous, otherworldly force. The Realm of Nightmares invades the physical world, sending incursions in the form of dungeon to undermine and destroy society." While I couldn't resist playing off of 1,001 Arabian Nights for the title, it's worth noting that Nightmares Underneath--rather than being the sort of pulpy Aladdin & Arabian Nights sort of setting some might be accustomed to--the meat of the setting is actually more grounded in Persianate / Ottoman Empire trappings. We'll delve more into this yet, but I encourage folks to check out the setting in particular--there's really good stuff and a big part of what captured my interest in it. It rolls with its own system which is something of a pastiche between OSR-style elements coupled with a fair number of more 'modern' flavorings inspired by Apocalypse World and the like. You'll find some familiar territory here with a fair few resolutions borrowing 2d6 with 6-, 7-9, 10+ results, as well as an Advantage / Disadvantage system and so forth. Red Box Vancouver is behind this beast, Johnstone Metzger in particular, and I've swiftly been smitten by it: there's some very very cool ideas here. What we've got is a fairly direct premise for explaining a fair bit of dungeoneering: around the land, 'nightmare incursions' keep popping up and start spawning all sorts of creatures and such to spread foulness in the land. Part of the premise of the setting itself is that in the distant past, it may well have been a more 'traditional' fantasy setting with pantheons of gods granting magic, 'inhuman' races and so forth. We'll explore what a lot of that plays into along the way, I suspect--but much of what we're dealing with here is the aftermath of that creeping back to the surface again. The nature of the nightmare incursions seems to drive most men and women who enter them insane, at the very least--while corruption and mutation are commonly further blow-back from such. A small number of individuals, however, seem resilient to these effects, though no one is certain why: faring from all walks of life, from the deepest of poverty to direct Royal Blood, these men and women are the only hope the Kingdoms of Dreams seem to have to combat the encroach of chaos and nightmares--which is where your characters come in, of course. You can find a free version of rules here, and if you dig it, I definitely encourage buying a copy of the full material (the main difference is the free version doesn't have any art in it.) Your characters may come from all walks of life and a variety of professions--and by happenstance and necessity, are thrust into the role of adventurers for the greater good of the lands of Law. That's not to say that you're all devout goodly champions of light, of course--and in truth, the lands of Law are not without their troubles even beyond the encroach of nightmares and monsters.
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Nov 18, 2016 00:58
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   Character Mechanics We're going to roll with the old-school elements of this as written, more or less--a bit literally, at that. NU has six attributes: Charisma, Dexterity, Ferocity, Health, Intelligence and Willpower. Attributes can be affected and temporarily reduced by wounds, magic or other pernicious perils and in such serve double-duty as sort of an extended threshold of punishment a character can take. Attributes confer modifiers as well. Attributes also function for 'saves' (if you're from a Dungeon World background, it's pretty parallel to the various 'defy danger' attribute calls) and serve to set your target number when using skills or the like related to them (so for instance, an assassin may use their Dexterity for their target when picking locks, moving stealthily, etc.) Rather than hit points, NU uses 'Disposition' which is re-rolled each day of adventuring and after resting along the way; once a character sustains damage beyond their disposition, rather than dying things begin rolling over into attributes until a character is crippled, maimed or knocked unconscious (or ultimately, as might transpire, killed.) You'll choose a profession for your character, of which NU boasts eight: assassin, bard, champion, cultist, fighter, scholar, thief, and wizard. Similar to Dungeon World, characters use their hit dice for how much damage they deal with weapons, while the weapons themselves mostly provide different functionality (e.g. two handed weapons hit harder, a polearm has longer reach, etc.) Any character can use magic, Wizards are just much more focused on its study. One of the themes that Nightmares Underneath explores that I'm keen to work with is social classes and society in general; since your adventurers can quite broadly come from all walks of life, that extends fully into social class as well--and because the individuals who can sustain venturing into the incursions are precious few, you can readily have direct royal nobility rubbing elbows with street urchins when the call arises. Campaigning & Carousing A big part of Nightmares Underneath is the carousing and socializing between adventures, also; during these phases, you'll have the opportunity to invest in community institutions and basically build the place up: think Darkest Dungeon's village, if you're familiar. Build the community up enough and you begin to open up extra services to further improve your characters and grow more potent in your delves. If you're of a Dungeon World frame of mind, think of the nightmare incursions as 'fronts'--if left unchecked, over time nightmare incursions evolve and grow as time passes. There are a variety of different types of incursions that can crop up, and part of campaigning with this game is a balancing act between how far the characters dare to push themselves before reprieve and how well they can keep the incursions from getting out of hand. We will be playing using The Highland Coast region, using Neth-Hadrazzar as the center of our focus (at least initially.)  Character Creation & Advancement I'm going to embrace the weird mix of OSR and modern storygame design presented in this strange little journey of ours. Accordingly, we're going to ride the roller-coaster--attributes are rolled 3d6 down the line in order at character creation, after which you proceed to pick your profession and determine the rest. Since I am not entirely in love with random attributes, I will at least let anyone who wants to saddle up roll two sets and pick which one they like, and then proceed to swap two stats from whatever set they choose. Mind you, if random attributes alarm you for fear of low stats, there is some note of encouragement: whenever you gain a level, two of your attributes 'test' to potentially raise (a d20 roll trying to meet or exceed the attribute) and the lower the attribute you're testing, not only the more likely it is to raise--but the more points it might raise by. So, for instance, even if you begin the game with 8 in an attribute, it can potentially jump up to 11 in one level, etc. Additionally, I'd like to go with the approach of using the starting wealth roll to determine character social standing, since I think in the theme of all this it could be good fun to embrace that--and may give folks some surprise roleplaying to tackle too. For this, it's another 3d6 roll--with 3 being the poverty end of the spectrum and 18 being Royalty. We can additionally dole out from random starting kits for those sets if you're feeling adventurous--I think you'll be pleasantly surprised, as almost all of them also come with some fun roleplaying cues to help imagine your character, too. Here's an example I enjoyed: "You have 1d6 doses of antitoxin, 4 bombs, a tinderbox, a dozen candles, a handful of caltrops, a dozen pieces of chalk, a dagger, a pot of glue, a dozen heretical posters, a shoulderbag, and a heart made of stone, which anyone can see, if they look in your eyes." These also give additional kit based on your profession, for note. NU's OSR side of things calls for advancement by way of experience--and experience is gained through recovering treasure and valuables from the nightmare incursions (which, helpfully, is part of the process of vanquishing and closing them.) However much loot the survivors of an incursion recover translates into experience gained by those characters, divided equally (regardless of how the treasure itself is divied up.) Additionally, each of the professions has two 'primary attributes'--and if your character's attributes in one or both of those called-for attributes are 13 or higher, you get a 5 or 10% bonus to all experience you gain. If your attributes in the primary attributes are 8 or lower, you have a 5 to 10% penalty to experience gained.  Whew, that's a whole lot to go through--kudos if you stuck it out. Still interested in this wild jamboree? Excellent. Here's what you need to ride this ride:
You can submit rolls here if you'd like, or I can be found via IRC with a dicebot in #1001nightmares on irc.synirc.net. Let's see where this goes.
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Nov 18, 2016 00:58
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 Mercedes Altair Profession: Fighter Alignment: Good Social Class: Peasant Disposition: 1 9 Cha 11 Dex 11 Fer 15 Health 12 Int 5 Will Equip: Light armor One-Handed Sword Shoulderbag 77 cyphers You can't work a normal job because you are an outsider here, exiled from your homeland. You must fight the nightmare incursions because you believe the fate of the entire world is at stake. Waffleman_ fucked around with this message at 02:02 on Nov 18, 2016 |
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Nov 18, 2016 01:15
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Showing interest, should be able to get a character up tonight! Macit Cypress  Profession: Thief Alignment: Chaotic Social Class: Middle Disposition: 6 Charisma: 8 Dexterity: 17 Ferocity: 15 Health: 17 Intelligence: 13 Willpower: 13 Equipment:
Motive: I must fight the nightmare incursions in order to learn more about a supernatural experience in my past. The scholars say that ghosts are undead abominations bent on destruction of life and law. But the one that day looked like my sister. Of course it was a ghost, Delshada had been gone for years. It had been more than long enough for the wound to close and scar over. But the look of purest anguish in that face and the imagined wail from the open mouth would have shaken a stone. I called out to her in that dingy little apartment, the one where the sunlight barely found its way in through the heavy curtains. But did she attack me? Did her face become that of a horror sent from the Nightmare to claim my wicked soul? No. She just floated there, dust in the light, until she faded from my sight. The germ of an idea planted itself in me as I sank to my knees on that grubby floor, a small shaft of light lying heavy across my right eye. I asked a childhood friend who studies such things, but he gave me no answers. I talked to sources, I even stole books on the subject, but not one of them told me what I wanted, what I needed to know. It became almost an obsession, a quest for the final answer. Do ghosts age? Because the vision that I had of Delshada wasn't of the little girl she was on the day she died but a woman just as grown as I. Growing up in my father's shop taught me many things. Foremost among them: if you want something, you cannot rely on the whims of fate to give it to you. So I turned to the last possible resort. I'd take up my trade not just for my own gain, not just to thumb my nose at the Law of scholars and kings, but to find answers. To pry them out of the Nightmare with a knife and prove to myself that the scholars aren't right about everything. Especially not ghosts. Permotriassic fucked around with this message at 04:12 on Nov 18, 2016 |
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Nov 18, 2016 01:27
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This sounds really cool! I'll read up on this,and have something tomorrow.
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Nov 18, 2016 02:06
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Interest Post.
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Nov 18, 2016 02:32
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Really enthused about the setting, have been enjoying reading the book. I'd strongly encourage folks to settle in and take a look too - especially since it's free. There's a lot more detail to it than just 'middle eastern fantasy setting', and it'd be a shame to treat it as such. I will sit down with character creation in a bit and do some brainstormin.
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Nov 18, 2016 02:33
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Will look at this over the weekend, but I am interested.
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Nov 18, 2016 03:08
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Looks cool. Will check it out and throw in a character.
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Nov 18, 2016 04:46
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Looking into this. It seems interesting; will try to learn more about the rules and setting and maybe post something soon.
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Nov 19, 2016 03:46
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I'm interested in making a cultist from the lands of the barbarians. He'll be a worshiper of an old Sun deity. What I'm wondering is would this be acceptable as a character? Reading over the book, it seemed like cultists were barely tolerated at best. I didn't know if such a character could work or not.
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Nov 19, 2016 04:14
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This looks like a good game!
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Nov 19, 2016 04:48
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Forgot to ask, what are you using for your random rolls? Edit Thanks! Missed that while squinting at my phone. Rockopolis fucked around with this message at 14:59 on Nov 21, 2016 |
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Nov 19, 2016 16:14
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GaistHeidegger posted:You can submit rolls here if you'd like, or I can be found via IRC with a dicebot in #1001nightmares on irc.synirc.net.
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Nov 19, 2016 18:10
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 You'll go where I go, defile what I defile, eat who I eat! Rustam Sarsayok (Fighter) Alignment - Lawful Social Rank - Middle I must fight the nightmare incursions in order to Rustam is a Janissary, raised from childhood to be one of the Sultan's fearsome soldier-slaves. It's a simple life, but he's a simple man, so suits him well. He's good at going where he's told and great and thrashing who he's told and an absolute genius at drinking. Best of all, he gets to do it alongside his brothers and sisters in arms, the only family he's ever known. So when they come back mad and mangled from fighting the nightmare incursions, or just don't come back, he has to set out himself. Find out what happened to them, why they died. Because they're his family. 08 Charisma 08 Dexterity 13 Ferocity 16 Health 11 Intelligence 08 Willpower Disposition 3 Skills Fighters are skilled at foraging, hunting, labouring, scavenging, soldiering, and keeping their equipment in good working order. Special Abilities Armour does not count as encumbering items to you, as long as you are wearing it (but shields do). When you attack an enemy, if your attack roll is a miss, you still inflict your damage as normal, and if your attack roll is good enough to hit, you inflict your damage twice, as if you had made two successful attacks. Weapons Bastard Sword - an oversized kilij. An Overkilij. Armor Light Armor - Leather Jerkin Gear Two weeks rations 4 flasks of oil 2 vials of acid Crowbar Hand mirror Half a dozen torches Tinderbox Sapper's Tools - mostly stuff for digging and building simple constructions Small collection of handdrawn pornography. Cash He's never needed to buy much, so his salary mostly went to wine and women. And I think I still have a tab open, too...Oh well, I guess if I die in an incursion, I die that much ahead. Rockopolis fucked around with this message at 18:15 on Nov 22, 2016 |
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Nov 19, 2016 18:57
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 Marduk the Sensible Sweet wine and fair maidens, what more could a handsome young wizard want? Well, the coin to buy both, of course. Marduk's father would like him to stay put, help him run the shop, maybe marry that cow-looking girl next door with the large dowry. But Marduk has a better idea. He has this gift, does he not? Surely he is meant to use it - and get rich and famous in the process. Profession: Wizard Alignment: Neutral Social Class: Middle stats 1: 6#3d6 9 7 13 10 15 12 stats 1: 6#3d6 10 11 9 5 6 12 Cha 10 Dex 11 Fer 13 Hth 10 Int 15 +1 Wil 12\ disposition: 1d4 3 psychic armor: 1d4 4 AC: 14 Speed: 7 Spells: Chromatic Spray Charm Person Cure Wound magic 1: 1d10 3 magic 2: 1d10 4 magic 3: 1d10 2 Items: You have an abacus, bank notes worth 20 cyphers, a small box of cigars, a box of matches, a dagger, a sword, a map of the region, a random hireling, a set of scales, a vial of holy water, and a letter addressed to your father. I've rolled for cyphers first because it came up first in the rulebook, but then I realized rolling for social standing and random starting equipment was more fun, so I rolled for that instead. social standing: 3d6 10 social standing: 3d6 13 Can't Work: Lack discipline for regular work. Must fight: Because you can’t handle any other life. EDIT: Dang it, rolled everything on Orokos. You want me to reroll?
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Nov 19, 2016 19:53
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Nah, the orokos rolls are fine. Cultist is also fine--it's worth noting that there is a further element / mechanical system involved in all this with 'resentment' from the communities you help--yours is a life of the 'necessary evil' more or less, folks are wary about those who enter and return from the incursions, but without your efforts, Chaos runs unchecked. Over time, however, your presence will invariably bring some ire from folks who would be quite happy if you moved on, as it were.
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Nov 20, 2016 09:02
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Interest post
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Nov 20, 2016 18:43
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The mechanics are complete, and I've got the basic story down. Doesn't really pop, but I know that if I get in, I'm going to need at least one nightmare involving windmills.
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Nov 20, 2016 23:13
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 pre:Shodana Khashayarsha, Bey of Citadel, the Khashayarshazadi, priestess of the one that devours from within Profession: Cultist Alignment: Evil Social Class: Lesser Nobility[13] Motivation: Atonement for a crime. Level 1->2 <mpb> !roll 2 1d20 #rolling levels for intelligence and willpower in that order * MadBot rolled 1d20 for mpb and got ( 18 1 ) for a total of: 19 Cha 10[+0] Dex 9[+0] Fer 15[+1] Hth 14[+1] Int 11[+0] ->13[+1] Wil 16[+2] (swapped Dex with Int) (on rolz stats) Diposition:2 Armour: Heavy armour base 15 + 2 shield = 17 Speed: 7 Encumberance limit: 4+1=5 Encumberance: Tower shield 2 heavy armour 2 backpack 1 = 5 Spells(Cultist privileged school:Enchantment): Cause Fear,Charm Person,Inspiration,Paralysis new spells: Find Poison, Ventriloquism Memorized spells: 1. Inspiration 2. Inspiration 3. Inspiration Non-Restricted- Blades, Heavy armor Spiritual Enemy: Humans Gear[9]: Amulet of Feasting, 50 feet of silk rope, a backpack, a sickle, a book, a hand mirror, a jar of beard oil, manacles, a helmet, a tower shield, a silver dagger, a dozen torches, a sling, a 12 bullets, and 2 days worth of rations. [Heirloom] - ornate/expensive Heavy armor - it almost looks like a jewel beetle's carapace - there is text inscribed on the inside of the armor in the sacred language of the Devourer only known to his followers - "The flesh of thy enemies protects thee". A well made spell book. You also have an expensive symbol of your faith - This takes a form of an ornate gold inlay tattoo located on her left hip, of what appears to be a headless snake, bursting forth from a locust.  Citadel is a modest garrison town on the frontier. It lies between the dead lawless province of Shahazzar and Neth-Hadrazzar. The land is hilly and dry - consisting mostly of scrubland, oak woodland, and chaparral. However a large underground lake exists which serves as the primary reservoir and allows for habitation of the town, and is the primary reason settlement occurred here in the first place. There is also a relatively extensive carbonate aquifer and quite extensive limestone deposits in the area, the cave system that these deposits have given rise is quite large. There are some orchards near the town cultivating olives, but mostly the land is used by herdsmen raising primarily goats for their fur and milk, but also cattle and horses. While the terrain has always prevented the town becoming a major city, at one time it was the relative harshness of the hill range that surrounded Citadel that allowed it to become a major stopping point for traders traveling between Neth and the lost city of Shahazzar as it was a logical place to resupply and it provided one of the few safe and relatively easily traversable routes between the two cities. With the fall of Shahazzar Citadel's wealth has diminished, nevertheless it remains a moderately important garrison town controlling an entry way between the lawless wastes and Neth-Hadrazzar. The economy of the town revolves primarily around its garrison, however there is some trade in olives, goat milk, and cheese which are regarded as good quality by the rest of Neth-Hadrazzar. The garrison is mostly recruited from the local population and is loyal to the Bey, a hereditary governor of the town and its surrounding environs. The Bey, since the destruction Shahazzar has enjoyed a large stipend from the Sultan in Neth in order to maintain the garrison, which protects against banditry, raids from exile in Shahazzar, and attempts to minimize the impact of nightmares in the region - if not directly confronting them. While they were briefly an independent hill tribe with their own chiefs Citadel and its environs were invaded and conquered again and again by armies raised in the east and west, because of its strategic position. The Khashayarsha family has long ruled Citadel. Long before the coming of the Law to the land back to an age when deities of fire and sky reigned supreme. The Khashayarshazadi's family has longed followed one of the false gods. The religion as practiced by Khashayarshi family being especially resistant to outright conversion or annihilation by those who followed the Law, its primary tenets being secrecy and adopting the ways of their enemies - the faith has served them well as a way of maintaining an identity that is independent of powerful neighbors, while being sufficiently flexible as to not be squashed by them. Long before the divine prophecies brought reason to the land they had adopted the ways of one conqueror after another. They had paid false homage to gods of fire, of wind, of death, and now they paid false homage to the Law - because there deity was the god that lies hidden within and its creed was thus: "We shall grow strong hidden within the flesh of our enemies", and though the deity was nameless it and many titles and it had its symbols, the burrowing maggots, fungal blooms blossoming from a zombified ant, the wasp growing from within caterpillar, the nematode burrowing into flesh of beast and man, and far darker things. Though the God they worshipped was perhaps a maleficent one, the Khashayarshi had ruled with an even hand as high priests and Beys of Citadel. They had been quick to adopt or at least ape the humanistic and logical practices of this new age of reason and eagerly prompted the work of scholars, while keeping their dark God in their hearts. Shodan Khashayarshazadi, enjoyed a happy childhood and adolescence, her father and mother had been loving and she had deep a connection to their deity. The silent rituals that honored it took place deep in the bowels of the earth in the dead of night. She had found the rituals calming and comforting - even the smell of the the calf which was sacrificed in these rituals, left to be devoured in the cool dark for months by flies became an endearing memory to her . Upon attaining adulthood she eagerly embraced her new responsibilities within the cult and began taking on responsibilities in her father's court. She proved herself apt in her material duties of protecting her land - hunting down bandits and rogue nobles who would cross from the dead province Shahazzar looking to raid and pillage. Though diplomacy with outsiders and need for the pretending to adhere to the values of the Law irritated her. Whenever foreign nobles and scholars arrived in court and spoke of the greatness of the Law reason and the enlightenment of man, her eyes glazed over, she nodded and uttered platitudes on how this was a wonderful age: an age that was set apart from the barbarity of the past. In her mind she laughed at the farce of it all. These people did not understand insignificance of man. That whatever their vaunted accomplishments were and whatever their “true deity” had prophesied, they were all so much meat for things that dwelt within the darkest recesses of the earth and distance space. The nightmares and incursions were proof of this. When this age of the Law and come and gone, her family and their deity would remain. The Bey's parents passed away peacefully and she became Bey of Citadel. The Bey was happily married to a rich-merchant who also was a member of the cult, named Ballam Bellisarius - the Khashayarshi family had long favored marriage to commoners over other nobles. Despite losing political favor from such a policey, it seemed to prevented the rot in personal characteristics that was epidemic in so many of the noble lineages and marriage to commoners ensured that worship of their deity was kept up. For a troublesome commoner spouse could always be divorced or in extreme cases done away with little trouble. Ballam was a kind and intelligent man whose business savvy and natural charisma had earned him a fortune in the salt trade to Geth. After Balliam's less scrupulous, but much beloved brother had a run in with law enforcement, which ended in his death, Balliam began seeking solace or perhaps a means of vengeance. He eventually turned to the cults and happened into the cult of the devouring God, which led to his eventual introduction to the Khashayarsha family. In a few years they had a daughter and named her Bilya. The Khashayarshazadi was delighted at the birth of her child. She took it upon herself to educate her. The Khashayarshazadi would teach her daughter to read and write as well as basic mathematics and they would explored the catacombs beneath the family estate, as well as the great caves within the region, considered sacred sites of their deity. Life was good. Then one day things changed. A Patriarch - a great holy man of the cult wandered in from the wastes of Shahazzar. He had such a great connection to the devouring God that he seemed to consume the inner life of those he simply walked by. He arrived at her doorstep and overwhelmed by his presence she carelessly welcomed the holy man with open arms and followers of the secret God from deep with the Shahazzar began to flock to Citadel. She would soon discover why these followers had resided in the dead province for so long while her branch of faith emphasized secrecy and hiding, his emphasized consumption. Night masses began occurring more frequently, the smell of rot and corruption, became more common within the town of Citadel. Nearby farmers and villagers would be alarmed at large herds of livestock found rotting in the fields near Citadel - houses becoming coated with the flies that these heaps gave birth to. Events culminated in a grand ritual on the winter solstice. The Patriarch announced a grand mass to be conducted that night and dozens of followers joined him in a great limestone cave a few miles from Citadel. The Bey attended as well. The ritual procceeded normally at first, the blind crawling procession in silence through tight pitch black winding passages of the cave. The ritual cleansing before entering site of sacrifice, but upon reaching the temporarily lit site of the sacrifice and finding the usual undersized foal, goat, or calf - there were people bound and gagged on the cave floor. And rather than the usual sacrificial knife and bowl of pupae or worms. The Patriarch had his hands around a cage. Within the cage something which defied description, it hurt to look at it made the Bey dizzy just to glance at it, and in that brief moment of sight of the thing she vomited - just as the ritual torch lights were extinguished and the cage was unlatched and all was dark. There were screams. The screaming didn't stop for what seemed like hours. Terrified the Bey panicked scrambling to find an exit from the cave. She knocked over other cultists and slammed her body over and over into the hard rock in her desperation to find an exit. But despite her terror in some part of mind she could not help but feel exultation, for in this moment she had never felt closer to God and she imaged this was closer to the true nature of her God than she had ever known before. For were not men meant to die and be food for the worms and maggots? The true favored of her God of the devouring, were not men, but those creatures which consumed them. When the screams subsided, torches were slowly relit and she saw what had become of the prisoners. There was gore yes, but the prisoners were still alive, their bodies bloated and made home to writhing masses of... things. The grotesque contortions of their bodies had gone through prevented them from making any additional noise, but when she looked into their eyes they seemed to beg for death. Traumatized to the point of being catatonic, her fellow cultists dragged her carefully out of the cave and then carried her back to Citadel. There she convalesced for months her broken bones healing and her mind processing the nightmare that had occurred in the cave. And while she healed in body and mind, the Patriarch ran wild. Rumors began reaching the Sultan of horrors occurring at Citadel. That there had been no effort had been put forth by the Bey to stop atrocities. That the Bey was a cultist participating in these atrocities. Spies were sent, some returned some didn't. Finally the Sultan dispatched a letter to the Bey demanding immediate action or the removal of the Bey and replacement of her and her family with distant relatives as officials of Citadel and the possible imprisonment and execution of her and her immediate family if they were found culpable by a court. Soon after he dispatched his Seneschal with mamelukes to enforce these demands and investigate the Bey. The letter was received by the recovering Bey and the terror it generated in her and motivated her into swift decisive action. She had the Patriarch strangled in his sleep. His followers who followed the way of consumption - those most committed to the darkest rights of the God were found and hanged in public, the caves that their dark mass took place in collapsed with gun-powder. But enough evidence, remained of her wrongdoing by the time the seneschal arrived. So she prepared a ritual. Within a resplendent hall within Citadel near the frontier. Two figures could be seen arguing, a middle-aged muscular noble-woman with sharp features, and an elderly mustachioed seneschal. "You will accord me the respect that "The Law" grants my station" said Bey Khashayarshazadi a supercilious smile on her lips. "I apologize Bey." he replied gruffly "But this the third time this year that there have been mass-murders related to False Gods within your personal demesne, what exactly is going on here? The Emir is furious, you will account for your actions! I dare say that your apparent inaction in rooting out this murderous cult may be reason enough for the Emir to replace you with your cousin as Bey." "My dear seneschal, all will be well, these murderous cultists will all be imprisoned or hanged by tomorrow", and as she gently touched her hand to his. His pupil dilated. "Yes, all will be well" he replied dreamily. "You will return to our dear Emir and report all is well in Citadel, and the criminals have been punished" "Yes Bey Khashayarshazadi" he mumbled as he lurched out of the hall. The murders would end and the enscrolling of the seneschal would give the Bey the time and ability to get ride of much of the evidence against her, but the Sultan's suspicions would remain. While there was no remaining evidence of blatant wrongdoing on her part a public pronouncement was still made by the Sultan. The Emir ordered that the Bey of Citadel in order to atone for her inaction in allowing the cult murders to happen would take up the sword against the enemies of mankind, she was ordered to gather a band and fight the Nightmares that plagued the land until the Emir was satisfied that she had redeemed herself and in her place her husband would govern the Bey of Citadel until their daughter came of age or Khashayarshazadi was redeem. This was in effect a death sentence, albeit one which extracted some use from the condemned. In a private letter from the Emir to the Bey it was made clear a pardon would never come and that if she was ever found to be directly connected with the cult murders or idolatry she and her family would be punished - at least cast from positions of power and driven to beggary and at worst executed. So Shodan Khashayarshazadi of Citadel left her home a bitter and broken woman, to protect her family, herself, and what remained of her followers, she would crusade of her enemies. Current contract:  Stats <-Orkos the rest I rolled on rolz when I realized that was preferred. Appearance: Middle-aged 40s. Sharp facial features. Tall and well-muscled she hides her physique with loose fitting satin or fine-cotton clothing, when in public. On the battlefield she typically wears her family armor which resemble the carapace of jewel beetle, while functional it is also ornate, with gold embossed onto the plates, and dyes and oil added which an oily rainbow like appearance. She usually carries an easy smile on her face. She has a penetrating gaze that causes her smile to become a sardonic thing, when having a face to face conversation with her. It becomes evident on observation that her mannerisms are trained to make her seem more amiable. There is something in the way conducts herself that suggests a perpetual loathing of those around her. MinutePirateBug fucked around with this message at 05:10 on Jun 17, 2017 |
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Nov 20, 2016 23:43
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 pre:Kasra Coriander Attributes Charisma 17 (+2) Dexterity 11 (+0) Ferocity 10 (+0) Health 9 (+0) Intelligence 12 (+0) Willpower 9 (+0) Profession: Bard Alignment: Chaotic Social Class: -1 Motivation: I must fight the nightmare incursions in order to get revenge on someone or something that assaulted me. "There was a fellow Hero, on one of my most earliest of forays. They were... unkind to me, and more than that I cannot say, I will not say. I continue to be officially and dutifully Heroic not only because it is honorable - which it is - and not only because it is profitable - which it not always is - but, because I know they must still be out there. Will I find myself banded with them, once more, or will they be one of the twisted nightmare remnants skulking in the shadows?" Accoutrements: A bank note worth 14 cyphers A dagger A shoulder bag A set of writing tools A walking stick A wineskin A wheel of cheese An innocous spellbook A travel memoir A random hireling (?) Mastered Spells: Fearlessness Move Spell Featherlight When the moon was high and bright, and the sand firm and cold as stone, the Ranger found the Bard. The Ranger had hunted him for many weeks, for the Bard knew many things; he knew these many things for he had traveled through and over and under many lands, and had done many deeds, and had seen many more others. And the Ranger was pleased, for he had come upon the Bard in the dead of night, while he slept surrounded by nothing but miles of desert. Accosted on the road, with no shelter in which to bunker, nor allies to whom to plead, the Bard was helpless. "You are helpless," the Ranger growled, pressing the blade of his sword on the poor Bard's handsome throat. "You will tell me what I wish to know." "I do not know what you wish to know," the Bard retorted with a gulp, but not one so hard as to send his neck bubbling into the razor now so delicately pressed against it. And so the Ranger told him. The Bard was a Hero of some experience - that, the poor victim did not need to be told - and had ventured with many bands into many of the incursions of darkness and nightmare that so cruelly ferment then forment into the Kingdom of Dreams. Several years past, he had sallied deep beneath the immigrant import houses of Geth, with the son of an Emir. This son had a precious emerald on a brooch, and had so inconsiderately left it in the depths of the labyrinthine dungeon where he had perished. The Ranger very much wanted this emerald - and perhaps the brooch, too - but saw no purpose in becoming forever lost in a dark and cursed hollow. He produced papers, ink, and pen, and made his demands. "You will kill me afterward," the Bard protested, because it seemed to be true. "If I am to tell you where to find this treasure, you must swear a holy oath not to harm me." The Ranger laughed at that. "You think me foolish. Once I swore my oath, and you were protected, you would tell me nothing but lies. On my hunt, I have heard tales of you in Geth, in Yiattusa, and in Narkavrum. They all say the same: that you are a charlatan." "I am." "A mountebank." "I will not deny it." "An crude proletariat, who has made love to Counterfeit and cuckolded Scruples." "It is true." "A rogue." "You have me quite characterized," the Bard admitted, but then, "But even those such as I have respect for Law, good man. If you shall swear a holy oath to me and to the Divine that I shall leave here unharmed, and that you shall not revenge yourself upon me at a later date... then I shall swear a holy oath to you and the Divine that every word, every syllable and utterance I share with you this night will be naught but the truth." The Ranger considered this. Only the most base of scoundrels and the most depraved of degenerates would break an oath sworn to the Divine. And so he acquiesced, and so the two men swore to each other, saying their vows exactly as they had agreed, adding in a quick prayer to the Divine, and kissing one another on the left cheek, which is how oaths are confirmed in some villages of the Narang Valley. So sworn, the Bard began to recount what he could remember of that adventure. This took him a few moments of recollection, for there were many quests and trials to recall and sift through. He was an adventurer and Hero of some major renown in some minor circles, this Bard. Bands which could afford an extra mouth would gladly take him on, not for his alacrity with a spear nor his strength with a sword, of course. He had slain very few abominations, truthfully. It was by the campfire where he earned his keep, spinning tales, giving heartfelt counsel, or warming a comrade's bedroll. The Bard described these duties and vocations in long and lurid detail, to the annoyance and flustering of the Ranger. The tale of that dungeon 'neath Geth slowly took form, though. The Bard recalled which paths they had taken the first day and the second day, and which ones they had to re-cross and found re-arranged on the third and fifth days. As he spoke, the Ranger scribbled and sketched, flipping through his papers as they became maps, layered over one another with each harrowing descent. The Bard talked of long hallways, remembering their length in footsteps and going over the Ranger's notes when necessary to revise or edit for scale. He described horrid grotesques which pointed this way when you were supposed to go that way, or shattered chests which concealed raised tiles that one would do best to avoid. When the first draft of the map had been completed, the Bard mournfully tore away seven pages and went into a long re-explanation of their detail, so that the Ranger's records were truthful, in obeisance to the oath. When at last, the Bard finished his account, and the position of the emerald brooch was double- and triple-confirmed, the two men sighed with relief. Their backs ached and their joints creaked. They had conferred until past dawn, and it pained their bleary eyes to look at the sun in its ascent. "It is done, then," the Bard said with a yawn. "Enjoy your map, but if I may give you one last piece of advice? I wouldn't use it to look for your emerald." The Ranger was confused. Was this, perhaps, a lesson about the futility of greed? Of the impermanence of wealth? He asked why, if the map was a true and honest accounting? "Oh, it was," the Bard explained, "It was quite a masterwork. But," and here, the tired traveler pointed upward, "We were not fast enough, and for that I apologize. You do recall the oath I swore to you and the Divine?" Confusion led to anger, which led to despair. The Ranger fell to his knees; the dawn had come without him noticing, and he had continued sketching and re-drafting and re-organizing his map, all while the Bard prattled. For hours they had worked at it. The Ranger could not pinpoint a moment where truth became lie, could not remember the exact second or section of the map where the sun had broken the horizon. He stared at his thick sheaf of maps, an entire well poisoned by pages he could not identify. The Ranger reached for his sword, but fast remembered his own oath, relaxed his grip. For a moment, the two men merely stared at each other. The Ranger, finally, curled his lips in what could have been a smile, and coughed his throat in what might have been a chuckle, stuffed his papers into his satchel, and turned back for Geth. The Bard fell back onto his bedroll, to recapture the sleep that had eluded him. tin can made man fucked around with this message at 09:10 on Nov 25, 2016 |
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Nov 21, 2016 00:00
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Attributes: 9 Charisma +0, 13 Dexterity +1, 16 Ferocity +2, 14 Health +1, 9 Intelligence +0, 13 Willpower +1 Melee: +4 to hit, +2 to damage Ranged: +3 to hit Profession: Berserker (d10) Alignment: Evil Social class: Middle class (tobaccanist) +0 Equipment: abacus, bank notes worth 20 cyphers, a small box of cigars, a box of matches, a dagger, a sword (two-handed, if possible, to match picture), a map of the region, a random hireling (neutral mercenary foreigner), a set of scales, a vial of holy water, and a letter addressed to your father. Berserker bonus: Composite Bow and Armor Rating: 16 Disposition: 3 Motivation: you must fight the nightmare incursions in order to find someone who, or something that, has disappeared (memories) Description: Navid Nima is a well-kept but unremarkable looking bearded man with black hair. It is actually a wig, and underneath is a tattooed scalp that would identify him as the one who slew the Geth exile noble who tried to lead disaffected native highlanders in a revolt. Without their stubborn leader they were quick to negotiate their position and return to work. Now he hides his identity from onlookers, because one of the people who recognized and congratulated him also poisoned or cursed him with an "exotic" smokable–from another world, in fact, and crafted by a demon. While he slept he dreamt of how it harvested and wrapped up his memories in leaves, and how a mad person ran with the package into a nightmare incursion somewhere he just can't remember until he sees it again. Finding his way to a place he himself has never been is what he must do lest the thief of his past consumes it. All he can do otherwise is sink into vices. He carries letters addressed to his father, who sent him away to the "barbarians" native to the highlands, his mother's people. They describe his coming of age and feats thereafter. His mercenary friend, Azeem, whom he still recognizes, retrieved them from his departed father's belongings and delivered them to Navid after his memory loss. They remind him of who he was and what he is capable of. 
slydingdoor fucked around with this message at 06:16 on Apr 19, 2017 |
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Nov 21, 2016 00:47
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Placeholder post for rolls: [19:49] <FractionJackson> !roll 6 3d6 [19:49] * LawBot rolled 3d6 for FractionJackson and got ( 11 15 15 13 11 14 ) for a total of: 79 [19:49] <FractionJackson> !roll 6 3d6 [19:49] * LawBot rolled 3d6 for FractionJackson and got ( 13 8 7 6 11 4 ) for a total of: 49 [19:50] <FractionJackson> !roll 3d6 [19:50] * LawBot rolled 3d6 for FractionJackson and got 13 Will do Champion, Lawful. A soldier. Apparently have class at +1 and likely knightly. Motivation I am just going to pick as 11: you believe the fate of the entire world is at stake. Fraction Jackson fucked around with this message at 04:55 on Nov 21, 2016 |
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Nov 21, 2016 03:50
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Since inexplicably almost every single character being generated so far has rolled Middle Class, despite the table not being particularly weighted towards it, I'm going to allow folks to roll twice and choose which Social Class they'd like between the two.
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Nov 21, 2016 04:08
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Ezra, Priest of Urr Urr; bringer of light, life giver, protector of life. This is the religion of Ezra and his homeland. His homeland lies far to the south east on the edge of the known world. In his homeland, Urr is worshiped as the primary deity among a pantheon of other deities. Ezra's people pray to Urr to make the crops grow as well as bringing prosperity. Besides conducting the worship of Urr, the priests of Urr protect the people from the undead. The undead are seen as abominations that should not exist and it is up to the priests of Urr to destroy them. Ezra joined the priesthood of Urr when he was young. It was his family and his calling. While he would have lived his entire life serving the priesthood in his homeland, it wasn't to be. Ezra wasn't very good at being a priest. He tried to do his duties, but he failed to live up to the expectations of him. Also he enjoyed festivities a little too much. The priest hierarchy rarely threw people out of the priesthood and Ezra never did anything bad enough to be punished by expulsion. However there was one thing, they could do. They decided to make Ezra a missionary. He would be sent out to spread the worship of Urr. He left his homeland and began to travel. His travels taught him that few people were interested in hearing about his religion, but they were interested in Ezra's ability to fight undead. In this way, he began his career as an adventurer. During his travels in these "civilized" lands, he found that those who didn't believe in the faith of the leaders were persecuted. It became obvious to him that he couldn't just practice his religion in the open. He learned about the religion of his new home. In learning about the religion, he found out how he could skirt the laws that forbade his faith. In the cracks of the Law, he found that he could survive. In order to do this, he had to avoid drawing too much attention to himself and hide his faith from the more zealous followers of the law. Among the downtrodden and those who would only pay lip service to the Law, he could use his faith and the gifts it provided to help people out. He found out that a lot of people were willing to overlook his religion if he could provide useful services. And what services did he provide? He had the ability to cure wounds and some knowledge of taking care of injuries that didn't require magic to fix them. Even though his medical knowledge was limited, it happened to be cheaper than that provided by large institutions. And if people couldn't afford it with coins, he would make a trade or let them pay later. Besides healing, he also had knowledge about how to deal with undead monstrosities. And if the money was right, he would even offer to help out. His primary goal in his money earning endeavors was to build a shrine to Urr. Although he knew such a thing would prove difficult and might even be illegal, he hoped that with enough money and enough good will he would be able to build the shrine. Ezra Profession: Cultist Alignment: Good Social Class: Peasant (8) Motivation: Ostracized minority/Exile who needs the money Stats Cha 11 +0 Dex 9 +0 Fer 7 -1 Hth 14 +1 Int 10 +0 Wil 12 +0 HD d6 Disposition: 4 AR: 13 Speed: 7 Spells: Detect Magic, Cure Wound Allowed weapons: Blades and blunt weapons Spiritual Enemy: Undead Starting Gear (110c): Mace (one handed) Staff dagger Light armor Backpack bedroll tinderbox wineskin candles (12) Rope (50') Set of Barber-Surgeon tools Holy symbol, metal (heirloom) 22c  Disposition: DocBubonic fucked around with this message at 21:18 on Feb 7, 2017 |
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Nov 21, 2016 06:24
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GaistHeidegger posted:Since inexplicably almost every single character being generated so far has rolled Middle Class, despite the table not being particularly weighted towards it, I'm going to allow folks to roll twice and choose which Social Class they'd like between the two. I'd call the 3d6 bell curve pretty weighted. social standing 2: 2#3d6 7 7 Ehhhh. I like the stuff in the previous roll more.
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Nov 21, 2016 10:35
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GaistHeidegger posted:Since inexplicably almost every single character being generated so far has rolled Middle Class, despite the table not being particularly weighted towards it, I'm going to allow folks to roll twice and choose which Social Class they'd like between the two.  I rerolled and going Middle Class again, but with slightly more useful gear. Also pornography. I'll adjust my character a bit.
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Nov 21, 2016 14:19
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 Jad Amir Born into a minor noble house within the Narang Valley, this warrior was second in line to his father's title and lands and thus took to a life in the military to better bring honour to his family. For his part, he was content to leave and undertake his training, glad to be away from the politics and ever shifting alliances of the valley's noble houses, for he never had the brains nor stomach for such things. Far more comfortable was he with sword and shield, standing as a vigilant protector of the lands and its people. And in this he excelled, proving his worth time and time again against those who would defy the Law and seek to bring Chaos. His previous years saw him roam the lands and cities, doing what good he could for those in need and more often than not drawing his sword to do so. On such a day, as he passed through a small village along the Sultan's Highway, he came across a crowd and a creature he had only ever read of; a Fey Knight. The being was angry, for some custom of its kind had been insulted, though the villagers and warrior himself were ignorant as to how. Despite attempts to calm the situation, the Fey struck out at the lesser creatures for that which it saw as an insult. The warrior, whose duty it was to protect the people, had no choice. Steel was met with steel and the villagers quickly dispersed as the two squared off. Whilst he would like the bards to tell a tale of a match for the ages, rather he quickly found the fight one-sided in the favour of the magical being, so unaccustomed was he to fighting such a particular foe. Soundly beaten, with more than a few new scars to remind him, the warrior took solace that he had saved lives from being taken that day but he forever vowed to better himself so as to never suffer such humiliation ever again. But the Fey are not all there is to contend with and shield others from, for the Nightmares stalk the land in increasing numbers. Yet through his encounters with their incursions, the warrior came to find that the madness that would taint others through such actions did not touch him. He could stand toe to toe in defiance and in doing so discovered that he had a gift so few could say to possess. And with this gift, he knew his duty was to use it. The warrior will continue his duty of protecting the people and fighting back the Nightmares. Yet he cannot deny his greatest desire is to find the Fey once more for a rematch that will result in a very different outcome and mend his broken pride... pre:Profession: Fighter Alignment: Good Social Class: +1 Motivation: 'In order to get revenge on someone or something that assaulted you.' Disposition : 5 Charisma: 7 (-1) Dexterity: 11 Ferocity: 13 (+1 from leveling) Health: 13 (+1 from leveling) Intelligence: 8 (-1) Willpower: 8 (-1) Equipment: - 50 feet of silk rope - Backpack - Bastard sword - Book - A simple notebook. - A hand mirror - A jar of beard oil - Manacles - A shield = +1 Armour Rating - A silver dagger - A week of rations. - Heavy armour (From Social Rank) = 15 Armour Rating - Fancy Family Helmet (Heirloom) - A silver helmet with a gold band around the base, affixed with the symbol of his house; a silver arrow pointing down. A Velociraptor! fucked around with this message at 10:27 on Apr 22, 2017 |
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Nov 21, 2016 14:47
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Megazver posted:I'd call the 3d6 bell curve pretty weighted. That'd be me having a brain fart looking at the table distribution without the context of it being a 3d6 roll at the time.
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Nov 21, 2016 15:09
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Is plate mail as a heirloom item too silly at this stage?
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Nov 21, 2016 16:32
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I'll reroll my social status again tonight if you still want us to, but I don't really imagine I'm going to like my gear more.
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Nov 21, 2016 17:27
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Permotriassic posted:I'll reroll my social status again tonight if you still want us to, but I don't really imagine I'm going to like my gear more. By no means a requirement, it's not mandatory for anybody, just figured I'd offer.
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Nov 21, 2016 18:11
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Alright, we're gathering up a fine assortment of prospective delvers of nightmare--so anyone else still looking to put chips on the table, please try to have something together by Wednesday, November 23rd at the latest. We've a pretty decently sized gathering on irc in #1001nightmares on irc.synirc.net if you want to roll dice there or chit-chat about concepts and the like in the meantime; I'm also relatively available there throughout the day to respond to questions off and on. Other than that, to answer questions and sort some things out: -Social Status of 13+ provides for an Heirloom item in addition to your starting kit, which can be any one item or piece of equipment in the lists free of charge; however, there's 'hell to pay' if you part with this item and sell it off, so to speak, and ideally it is something of goodly significance to your character and his or her family. As has been asked, this does also accommodate a Suit of Plate armor, if you wish. -Attribute Sets: if between two sets of attribute rolls neither of your sets totaled up to 60+ points, you may roll a third set as a last-ditch effort to overcome Fate's disdain for your random rolls. This only came up once among the characters leveled at the table, as far as I'm aware, but I'm electing 60 points as roughly the 'be this tall to ride this ride' cushion. -Berserker Profession: I've decided to additionally allow the Berserker optional profession, which you can find on page 377 of the book (or 303 of the free version of the book.) Feel free to swap to this if it tickles your fancy on an existing character submission. -'Magic of the Gods': I'll entertain this optional spell-casting option for folks that wish to push for it, you can read about it on page 166 of the book (or 126 of the free version of the book.) Do note: magic in this fashion is explicitly idolatry in the lands of Law, so this is veritably a BIG can of worms for characters. I'll continue working on materials in the meantime and will start to put forth some details about our starting environs as well soon.
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Nov 21, 2016 22:46
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Musad Sundown My clan was the Sundown Chasers. We were part of the desert people. The ones that travel the desert, carrying trade goods and herding camels. I was... nobody special in the clan. A worker and a guard. But it was family. Some were even friends. We never really paid too much attention to the city. We had our own laws that we've been following for generations. We appreciate the peace that's here, and the safety of the roads that it brought, as long as they didn't interfere with our internal affairs or mock the ways of our ancestors too much. However, our latest chieftain, Malik, was quite taken with their ways. He spent quite some money on fancy new trinkets and decided to try out new roads beside our usual ones, disregarding the legends as 'old tales'. So one night, we took cover in a cave for a sandstorm and... I don't know what the attackers were. It was dark and chaotic and there were screams everywhere. I managed to cut at a few, but it seemed like I was the only one who could fight. I managed to get out, and the only one I managed to drag out was, well, Malik. But he was just a shade of himself, just gibbering and weeping and scratching at himself. I managed to bring him back to the nearby city with the help of a local patrol. I kept one of the things he still had on him. The compass and... well... what was there to do for me? My clan is dead. My family is gone. All there is left for me is to strike back at them. Profession: Fighter Alignment: Neutral Social Class: -1 = Peasants, proletarians and well to do slaves and servants Motivation: In order to get revenge on someone or something that assaulted him Disposition : 6 Charisma: 8 -1 Dexterity: 8 -1 Ferocity: 13 +1 Health: 12 Intelligence: 12 Willpower: 12 Equipment: a backpack, a dagger, 2 weeks worth of rations a compass; a pole arm;
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Nov 22, 2016 01:03
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Oh my god Arabia. Arabia you guys. The Golden Age of the Muslim World, and also there are Elder Gods. I am incredibly loving interested. Whether I can compose myself to compose something remains unseen. Oh my God.
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Nov 22, 2016 05:25
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pre:Sister Reyhana Disposition: 5 Charisma: 8 (-1) Dexterity: 14 (+1) Ferocity: 13 (+1) Health: 11 (+0) Intelligence: 10 (+0) Willpower: 12 (+0) Social Class: -2 Profession: Assassin Alignment: Neutral Motive: 'You must fight the nightmare incursions because you made an oath or promise to do so.' Equipment A satchel 50 ft of silk rope A grappling hook A pouch containing twelve bones from left index fingertips One vial of holy water An axe A garrote The Abbess Fehruza Nahid came to prominence amidst the upheaval surrounding the previous Emir of Ferakheen. A philosopher whose commentaries delivered a particularly aggressive interpretation of the Law, her writings gave structure to growing dissatisfaction with the graft and abuse of the Emir. At the height of discontent, the sultan in Neth-Hadrazzar had no choice but to press his authority and accept the abdication of the emir. Fearing further discontent, he invited the so-called Abbess Fehruza into his city and made great show of seeking her counsel. In the city of Neth, in the confines of her madrasa, the scholar and her pupils continued her work, examining pearls from the prophets and producing commentaries, while also working to expand the provenance of the sultan's charitable institutions, or establish charitable structures. Of particular focus to the Abbess were the city's less fortunate children, often pressed into punishing labor, working in civic blindspots with no oversight. It is that work that earned her the title, and the title given to her pupils and adherents, the so-called brothers and sisters - most of whom were those self-same children of Ferakheen and Neth, who found justice and wisdom in a fresh interpretation of the Law - one that did not come from the same mouths of those who had forgotten them. For the astute, the studious and trusted, the fiery sermons of Fehruza Nahid in the Ferakheen Unrest still survived to the present - between the lines, and behind the closed doors of her madrasa, a theology passed in spoken word rather than scriven text. This philosophy, brothers and sisters, says: conflict is a wound borne by the least fortunate, and fortune unscrutinized is compunction unheeded. Corruption is a rot that must be cut away if the limb is to be saved. To burn away the infection without inviting conflict, a peaceful transition is needed, a quiet death. Sister Reyhana herself is no one special. She was a child, like many, outside the view of the Sultan and the nobility of Neth. And in a time of need, like many, she found solace in the Law, and tutelage and instruction. For many years, she has served the Law, the Abbess, and the immigrant and laborer communities in Neth, in a quiet fashion - in charity, and in violence. The fire of her youthful idealism has dimmed some and she is more content now to bake bread and sew, or lead children in study than to excise corruption by the root. She still serves the Abbess but a brush with an incursion has demonstrated that she possesses the opportunity to pursue an even higher path, a road traveled by fewer still. Ambivalent fucked around with this message at 12:04 on Apr 22, 2017 |
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Nov 22, 2016 07:35
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 “Hah! I can see it in your face. You wonder why I am here, no? Well… it is a private matter. But let us say I was given a choice in my path, and when presented with this truest threat to our world… it proved an impossible task to ignore.” pre:Banu Nazir Razemi Disposition: 3 Charisma: 13 (+1) Dexterity: 9 (+0) Ferocity: 9 (+0) Health: 9 (+0) Intelligence: 11 (+1) Willpower: 14 (+1) Social Class: +1 Profession: Scholar Alignment: Lawful Motive: 'I must fight these abominations because my old life has been closed to me.' Spells: Sense Alignment Equipment A week's rations A brass pipe and a heavy pouch of hashish A backpack A shoulderbag A tome of philosophy Two tomes of mathematics (one practical, one prosaic) An architectural draftsman's book for beginners (sentimental value) A field drafting kit (tools) (architecture) (practical value) A hand mirror and a jar of beard oil A silver dagger whose sheath bears the crest of House Zaan A pistol, powderhorn, and two dozen bullets A set of cloth armor (sometimes worn, too hot outdoors in any weather) Heirloom Kasirga, a hunting saqr (falcon) who belonged to his father. The cage was left outside the back door of his family home on the night he left with a note saying simply "Do not go hungry". Kasirga is eleven years old and extremely cool-headed for a bird. For the most part, the sanctity of the great University can safely ignore these truths—they deal in greater truths, after all, and scholars hold great respect in the Kingdom of Dreams. But sometimes someone really gets stuck in the Emir’s doorway. Such was the fate of one Banu Nazir Razemi. An up and coming mathematician and architect, he was, tragically, much too outspoken for his own good—keen to point out falsehoods for falsehoods regardless of who might have inclination for believing them true. This came to include the unfairness of the Emir’s tax schemes, and his tolerance of wringing the lower orders for money in a very unlawful way. Very shortly the Head of the University was presented with a question—whether he valued his institution’s sanctity or that of his rising young mathematics star more. The Emir overvalued his greatness in this regard, by presenting what he believed to be an impossible question to one of the most learned men in the land. The Head proceeded to divide the question by informing Nazir of the untenability of the situation and suggesting he seek other opportunities. Driven by fire and anger, but cooled by the threat of unspeakable violence, Nazir agreed, and was promptly recommended—with the blessing of the University—to the service of one Emir Zaan in Nesh. Emir Zaan saw potential in the man’s righteousness, and being himself a learned and connected man, suggested that he undertake a new profession. Banu Nazir Razemi has not set foot in Ferahkeen in two years. In that time, he has gone from a fiery student of architecture into a learned and passionate protector of the land’s most ignored and vulnerable aspect—its geometry. Buildings, caves, and even the very soundest of laws are frequently rendered bent and haggard by nightmares—Nazir has tasked himself with setting them right. This frequently results in encounters with said nightmares, but Nazir has taken to the task with surprising skill and willfulness for a man of academics. Perhaps it allows him to vent his spleen. Nazir fights with one of the strongest and most unbreakable laws in the known world—the law of mathematics. Its logic shields him from impossible blandishments and more possible ones as well, and allows him to right wrongs to flesh and stone. When that fails, he carries a gun. He has noble support, which allows him to enjoy a more advanced position in the world than you would expect from an academic in exile. Too bad he still can't stop calling a spade a spade... Redeye Flight fucked around with this message at 03:22 on Nov 24, 2016 |
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Nov 22, 2016 08:43
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pre:Zarina Farhevar Rafhezadi Disposition: 5 Psychic Armor: 3 Charisma: 15 (+1) Dexterity: 13 (+1) Ferocity: 11 (+0) Health: 10 (+0) Intelligence: 14 (+1) Willpower: 9 (+0) Social Class: +0 Profession: Level 2 Scholar Alignment: Lawful Motive: In order to uncover or bury a family secret Spells: Binding, Eldritch Darts, Voice of Command Equipment A dagger A hammer A dozen iron spikes A 2-person tent 4 wooden stakes A set of scribe tools A lamellar cuirass Half a dozen torches in a sack A tinderbox 5 cyphers worth of small coins Two scholarly books A small, innocuous spellbook A complete magical formulae of Featherlight A complete magical formulae of Bridge A complete magical formulae of Climbing A complete magical formulae of Charm Animals A complete magical formulae of Immobilize Person A complete magical formulae of Invisible Servant  The House of Rafhezadi lost its original name after they fell from their high tower into the smog blanketing the metropolis of Geth. It was their penance for a long forgotten sin against the sultanate. Enemies of the sultan seduced them, and thus, brought them to ruin during the Gethian civil war. They followed the lead of the other exiles by assuming a new name. No redemption was gained through shedding their identity in Neth-Hadrazzar. Desperation caused nightmares which resulted in an exodus from the burgeoning city. A scholar named Zarina Farhevar returned to the region in a desperate attempt at penance for her family. If she could only illuminate their history, then surely the Law would shelter the House of Rafhezadi. Razeam fucked around with this message at 23:48 on Jun 30, 2017 |
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Nov 22, 2016 21:43
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"You have heard me preach of the strength of the Law. You have heard me speak many times of the joy and wonder that are given to us from the Law. That our Reason gives life and meaning to us, builds our cities from our labor, brings us greater knowledge to use for charity as the Law and the Prophets demand. Gives us scholarship and great works to bring us closer to our connection with the Divine. It is not merely the heart of our way of life, but it is the blood that courses through our veins." He was addressing a group of thirty-odd citizens, dressed for the road, excusing his absence-to-be. Perhaps his last sermon to these people. He was not often this fiery. "Let me remind you, though, the weaknesses of the Law: idolatry. Shadow. Demons." He smiled. "Am I not Reza Shadhevar Shahwaleed?" They shouted yes. "Is not the strength of my family name built on the back of the Law?" They concurred. "Does not the very existence of Nightmares debase every good work done, every act of charity and community? Does not every beast that comes into our world, in so doing,. constitute an assault on the Divine, the Law, and the very foundations of the world we have built? If the Law is the lifeblood of our very existence and way of life, are these things not the sword that spills it?" There were some confused glances as to where he was going with this, but still assent. "And if I believe these things with both reason and love for the Divine, then is it not my duty to deny that sword a chance to strike true, but instead, to be the shield against it?" They could not disagree. "Then that settles it, is it not so?" pre:Reza Shadhevar Shahwaleed Disposition: 4 Charisma: 11 (+0) Dexterity: 15 (+1) Ferocity: 15 (+1) Health: 13 (+1) Intelligence: 11 (+0) Willpower: 14 (+1) Social Class: +1 Profession: Champion Alignment: Lawful Motive: you believe the fate of the entire world is at stake. Spiritual Enemy: Beasts Equipment: 1d6 throwing knives [destroyed] 50 feet of rope [destroyed] a grappling hook a set of tools (Barber-Surgeon), a purse of coins worth 25 cyphers, heavy leather jerkin (light armour) fancy helmet bastard sword (heirloom) [19:49] * LawBot rolled 3d6 for FractionJackson and got ( 11 15 15 13 11 14 ) for a total of: 79 [19:49] <FractionJackson> !roll 6 3d6 [19:49] * LawBot rolled 3d6 for FractionJackson and got ( 13 8 7 6 11 4 ) for a total of: 49 [19:50] <FractionJackson> !roll 3d6 [19:50] * LawBot rolled 3d6 for FractionJackson and got 13 [14:45] <FractionJackson> !roll 1d8 [14:45] * LawBot rolled 1d8 for FractionJackson and got 3 [15:02] <FractionJackson> !roll 3d6 [15:02] * LawBot rolled 3d6 for FractionJackson and got 8 Might still use my attribute swap. Fraction Jackson fucked around with this message at 00:58 on Jan 10, 2017 |
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Nov 22, 2016 23:14
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| # ? Apr 23, 2024 19:01 |
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Alright, with fourteen submissions ready to go, I'm going to call this closed for any further, at least for any initial foray. I've been mulling over a lot of notes for the characters presented here and am in the process of working on my picks. I am considering the Troupe approach presented by way of anyone (who was interested) not in the initial set of characters to have the potential to cycle in as replacements if/when other characters are brutally maimed / killed / need longer recovery times; I'm somewhat hesitant, since PBP interest can be fleeting understandably for a player not actively participating, but it's a possibility I'll put out there just the same.
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Nov 23, 2016 17:55
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