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Captain_Indigo posted:
Book-keeping Keeper - Priestess conflicted 5 Alain - Diabolist conflicted 6 - Archmage conflicted 5 Captain_Indigo fucked around with this message at 08:38 on Jun 26, 2016 |
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Jun 17, 2016 18:14
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Sure, why not. Some sort of half-elf watch-lady, I think. Any classes on the blacklist/whitelist as far as 3rd party material? Houserules, etc.?
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Jun 17, 2016 18:48
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Definitely interested -- thinking a dwarf?
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Jun 17, 2016 21:05
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Interested, also anything from the 13th Age in Glorantha playtest allowed?
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Jun 17, 2016 21:08
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Captain Walker posted:Sure, why not. Some sort of half-elf watch-lady, I think. Any classes on the blacklist/whitelist as far as 3rd party material? Houserules, etc.? Anything from official expansions is fine, but I would shy away from anything that is bad for play by post. There are a couple of classes from True that don't work very well out of a table setting due to being very interrupt based. Third party stuff I'm a little hesitant about because I think there are enough solid classes in the official stuff, but what the hell, throw something together if you like. Edit: Houserules-wise, we'll be ignoring the missed shot rule. Ryuujin posted:Interested, also anything from the 13th Age in Glorantha playtest allowed? I haven't read the Glorantha material, but if you have an idea run it past me and I'll let you know. Doubt it will be an issue.
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Jun 17, 2016 22:04
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 Look, I'm not exactly what you'd call the honest working type. I'll admit that I'm a bit lazy, and man does the town get damned boring. But I'm no Red Calahan, no real reason for me to go to the city. So I do my part here, grumbling for the most part. Who wants to herd sheep, it's boring as hell. Maybe it's the elf in me, but I seem to have a hell of a wanderlust, which the town mayor seems to want to settle in me. From what my mum tells me, my dad was some wandering elf that wooed her in the local tavern one night when she was out with some of her friends, apparently he looked all fancy-like. Couple of the local kids tried to make fun of my parentage, bullied me a bit. They stopped when an awake, angry honey badger somehow managed to make it into their bedroom in the middle of winter. I was tending scratches for weeks, but man was the screaming and yelling worth it. They never bothered me again though. I know I'm not the brightest, but drat if I can't talk my way out of a situation, or into one, as the case may be. It's just all fun and games, right? quote:Name: Alexander berenzen fucked around with this message at 05:51 on Jun 20, 2016 |
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Jun 17, 2016 22:58
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 Solomon Creswell, Ranger I don't mind if you've never heard of me. You will, someday. You ever heard the one about the guy who won that bet? Yeah, the apple from two hundred paces. Now we're cooking, huh? A woodcutter's son. A guy who's a pretty good shot with a bow. Now, I know that it's not just 'pretty good;' it's kind of scary, sometimes. I'm not big on exaggerating, because some days it's as hard for me to believe as it is for the people who watch me practice. Yeah, that's weird, too; there are people that watch me just shoot at a target. I'm like, 'don't you have work to do? Don't you have mouths to feed, or logs to chop, or...something? Anything?' Then somebody brings out their son, or daughter, and I realize that they don't, really. I'm just living my life, day to day, and so are they. They want their kid to become somebody, maybe like they didn't. So they think that if their kid can beat the hot-shot, the rear end in a top hat who's claiming to be the best shot, they'll mean something beyond the four walls they live in, the trees that surround them, the dirt paths that leave this place and go nowhere. Then I trounce them, and those hopes, meager as they might be, get dashed. Why? Why don't I just let someone win? Because...that's a question I try not to answer when I'm falling asleep at night. What kind of rear end in a top hat doesn't let a kid beat them at archery? Even if it's just for one day, why can't I let someone else matter, let someone else gain something like respect, like a reputation. I know the reason why. Because the last time I threw a bet, I almost died. People come from all over to see me, to challenge me, ask me for advice. What the hell can I teach someone about stringing up a bow, right? I'm a country hick, a regular guy from nowhere in particular. Apparently the guys that came through this time didn't think so. It was a prince from some kingdom somewhere. The names, the particulars don't matter, they all dress the same, act the same. This guy was trying to woo this woman. What a crock, right? What does beating me have anything to do with this guy's chances at marriage? He raised an uproar when he arrived, of course. The first carriage, the first crown some had ever seen outside of their fairy tales. He asked me to lose a contest on purpose, so he could show how great he was. I kept it close. Too close for his liking. Some of his buddies, his mercenary escort, didn't like that. They beat me up pretty good. That was a hard lesson to learn; you win big, or you lose bigger. No compromise, even for the guy next door's son. Now we've got trouble on the homestead. The waters of life are drying up, and somebody's gotta do something. What do I have to lose, right? People already don't like me, what I've become even in spite of my talent. I either go out there and save the day, end up a big hero, or I die, and somebody takes my spot as best shot, has to deal with all that baggage. Baggage. What kind of messed up place is this if the best shot in the village is a miserable cynic? I dunno. Things are gonna change around here. Maybe that's what I can do after this all blows over. Figure out how to make my mark on this world, somehow. Prove I'm not just some rear end in a top hat with a bow. quote:
PurplieNurplie fucked around with this message at 02:48 on Jun 22, 2016 |
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Jun 18, 2016 01:47
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Gonna make a dude. Maybe a druid?
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Jun 18, 2016 07:40
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Pretty tempted by this! Let's see what I can come up with.
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Jun 18, 2016 08:40
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 Elena Ciarico, Human Necromancer It's never easy being different in a small town. The sideways glances, the half-hidden gestures to ward off evil, the occasional drunk with more liquor than sense. Well, not so much of the last one anymore. It's hard to live down being beaten unconscious by a half-dead waif. To be perfectly honest, it was more the skeletons that did it, but I made sure they got him from behind. It's less of a hassle if nobody sees them. So, yeah, I can raise the dead. Speak with them too. After my da, Francesco, -- he's the sawbones that keeps this place healthy -- pulled me from my ma's body, he wasn't sure I made it. I'm still not. I don't necessarily need a lot of the same things as most people. Like sleep. Or food. Or, well, air. I don't blame the village much. I'm not exactly a shining reminder of good times. I was the only baby that wasn't born still in midwinter. From what I hear from the travelers that visit my da for his services, it was a bad time anywhere you were. I've been learning to work with the dead ever since I realized I was the only one who could see or hear half the things going on in this dead-end town. The dead are restless and all they want is to be noticed. I can give them some peace, some times. quote:One Unique Thing Tricky fucked around with this message at 15:59 on Jun 18, 2016 |
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Jun 18, 2016 11:54
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 Gavin Brauer, Dwarf Bard Now don't you worry about payment Jack, this one is on the house - and thanks again for the turnips! You know what I love about Summer Vale? The people. They're good people. They're honest people. We're a community - a family. Sure we have a few of those crazy uncles you'd rather not spend too much time with and our one or two (or three in case of the Stephenson triplets) black sheep, just like any other family really, but at the end of the day we look after our own. Take me for example - Ma and Pa took me in. Human parents, dwarven foundling child. Not exactly your common household and it sure got them some attention, the good kind and the bad. They'd been trying for a child without any luck when I came along, and nobody else was making a move to take me in, so I guess it was a stroke of luck for them. But Pa has run the The Curious Hare tavern in Summer Vale for going on twenty years now, just like his father and grandfather before him, and even Old Man Jerome who could be as mean as they come stopped making snide remarks when I started brewing ale for The Curious Hare. Pa taught me well and I guess it's in my bones somewhere, because I make drat fine ale. He also taught me how to swing a cudgel to wrangle an unruly drunk, how to barter at the market and the value of being the good, friendly, sympathetic bartender. Sometimes people'll tell a barkeep things they can't tell their friends, or a priest, and it's nice to be able to help out - to look after the family. Spin one hell of a story, too, though that's mostly thanks to the priest up at the church, Pa ain't much of a storyteller. The priest gave me my first couple of books, tall tales of the heroes of ages gone past. I always try and buy at least one more when the wandering traders come through town. Started telling my own and hell, people seem to enjoy 'em, even Old Man Jerome. Maybe one day I'll get to go wandering, to see the places I've heard about in the stories - and then I'll come back home, sit by the fire in The Curious Hare with a good tankard full of the best drat ale in the village, and I'll tell everyone all about it. quote:One Unique Thing: Although I am unaware of it, I am the last surviving member of the Stonehall dwarf clan. Mode 7 fucked around with this message at 14:55 on Jun 18, 2016 |
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Jun 18, 2016 12:48
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Well I had been looking at either a Troll Troll Warrior, or a Human Humakti. Both classes are from 13th Age in Glorantha, and the Troll race is as well. Humakti is a class focused a great deal on swords, and to a lesser degree fighting undead and determining truth. Troll Warrior is a Barbarian transformation class, getting Troll Frenzy in place of Rage, starting at lower hit points than a Barbarian but gaining more as the day goes on, and a few Troll themed talents as options, also lower base AC than a Barbarian.
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Jun 19, 2016 06:53
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Tempted to make a Chaos Mage, but I'm slightly worried my posts would just end up full of explanations and cryptic orokos links.
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Jun 19, 2016 09:08
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As someone who has played a chaos Mage in a PBP, just do all the dice stuff for selecting spells your end and post the end results. It's so much rolling. That does not mean don't make one.
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Jun 19, 2016 15:55
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Keeper, Forgeborn Cleric When the explorers that found the small river dell that would one day become Summer Vale, the Shrine was already there. A small ancient but well-repaired stone structure, it was being tended by a curious mechanical man that introduced himself as Keeper. He quite happily tended to the minor injuries of the explorers and refilled their supplies from his small garden. He was very pleased to find out that settlers were coming soon, as he explained that he enjoyed helping others and the Previous Occupants had been gone for so long. As Summer Vale was established and grew, Keeper was there to lend a hand. He freely shared his knowledge of the local flora and fauna, and revealed he had some skill in the healing arts. He also happily served as an emergency brace when the construction of the town hall ran into difficulties. He served as the local priest until the settlers founded their own faiths, and continued services in the Shrine for any that wished to partake. Over the years, he's also served for a time as schoolmaster, midwife, well-dowser, architect, and crops consultant. Its become a bit of a friendly challenge in the hamlet to find the limit of Keeper's knowledge, but while he has professed lesser familiarity in some areas, he's never been stumped. When pressed for why he’s never left for more populated areas, Keeper simply states that until the recent renovations The Shrine required constant maintenance, and that the people of Summer Vale need him more than the bigger cities. quote:STR: 14 DEX: 10 CON: 16
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Jun 19, 2016 17:09
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Captain_Indigo posted:As someone who has played a chaos Mage in a PBP, just do all the dice stuff for selecting spells your end and post the end results. It's so much rolling. That does not mean don't make one. Still working out the finer details but the bullet point version so far is: - the closest thing Summer Vale has to a town magician is some kid who once found a magic book - he doesn't actually know how to read it properly but he's worked out how to make the magic do things and, you know, good enough - yes, fine, the things are wildly unpredictable and never what we wanted, but look, you read from the book and magic happens, everyone knows that's how it works - OUT: what he's stumbled across is one of the only remaining copies of some kind of Chaos Codex - conflicted Archmage relationship: he wants to be a proper wizard but no actual mage is gonna touch him with a ten foot pole anymore now that he's permanently screwed up his chakras by mucking around with the magic equivalent of "let's just pour all these chemicals together and see what happens"
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Jun 19, 2016 21:40
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Expressing interest, maybe a Druid of some kind.
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Jun 19, 2016 22:19
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interest post, probably gonna try to stat up a monk
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Jun 20, 2016 05:26
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Also an interest post, not quite sure what yet. Also why I don't browse forums late at night, because I'm super out of it when trying to reply.
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Jun 20, 2016 07:22
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It's great to see so much interest. I'll be making picks on Friday afternoon GMT, so if you want your character considered then have him or her up by then.
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Jun 20, 2016 07:27
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I'm submitting up a Berserker from the Glorantha supplement. I can provide the pdf if you'd like to take a look at it, Captain_Indigo. Torvald Rundruck, Half-Orc Berserker When Torvald's mother stumbled into Summer Vale bewildered, beaten, and heavily pregnant, the kind townsfolk were quick to put the poor woman up at the inn and nurse her back to health. The woman spoke little of her past and owned few possessions, notably a dull bronze medallion that never left her grasp. Over the next few months her food and lodgings were paid for by Widower Hemlock, who owned a small farm on the edge of the Vale and was sweet on the young woman. Many assumed that Hemlock would marry her, but everything changed when the young woman gave birth to a hefty, grey-skinned infant with pointed tusk-like teeth that were already breaking through his gums. Torvald and his mother began living in a small hut on Widower Hemlock's property. Hemlock had the woman work his fields for a pittance, paying her in food for her ravenous young boy. It was harsh work, and the growing half-orc required a lot of food to sustain him, so Torvald's mother often went without food herself. When Torvald was a young boy, he was often caught stealing food from the Summer Vale market to sate his appetite. As the youth matured he was able to help his mother tend the Widower's fields, but a particularly harsh winter left the frail woman bedridden with disease and she passed away that next spring. Torvald continued working for Widower Hemlock for years after that, but there was no love between the two. Hemlock treated the teenaged half-orc like an animal, while Torvald always blamed the old man for his mother's death. Nearly two decades after the woman's entrance to Summer Vale passed and Torvald grew into a robust young man. One hot day this past month, Torvald and Widower Hemlock got into a vicious argument that ended with the half-orc grabbed his belongings (including his mother's medallion) and storming off into the village, leaving Hemlock shouting until he was hoarse. Since then he's become somewhat of a layabout, sleeping in the shadows of larger buildings and bothering the locals for jobs. He's spent more than a few nights at the local lock-up for starting fights, and likely would have been run out of the village were it not for his legendary temper and fearsome strength scaring the local guardsmen. Most of the townsfolk assume that it's only a matter of time before the half-orc turns to banditry, and although Torvald's been tempted by the idea, he's trying his hardest to prove them wrong. quote:Torvald Rundruck, Half-Orc Berserker red plastic cup fucked around with this message at 07:22 on Jun 22, 2016 |
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Jun 20, 2016 09:41
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 Delilah Heartspring, Halfling Fighter Though Summer Vale had seen its fair share of halfling travellers over the years, the Heartspring family was one of the few that decided to settle down in the quiet village. While many of the adults were accepting of their less sizable neighbors, their children weren’t quite as open-armed to the sole daughter and child of the Heartsprings, Delilah. Until she proved to one misguided bully that she was as strong as she was nimble, that is. After that, the mocking degraded to hesitant teasing, and eventually subsided entirely. Openly, at least. Despite the potentially poor start to her childhood in Summer Vale, Delilah grew to have the same cheerful if at times naive outlook that most other halflings had, backed by her confidence in her own physical abilities, honed by hard work and dealing with the odd visitor who got just a little too drunk. Of course, when one goes around throwing as many punches as Delilah did, it was only a matter of time before one hit someone dangerous. In this case, a bandit who was at the tavern both for some relaxation as well as to get a lay of the defenses. When the rest of his gang attacked, he snuck past the fighting in search of the halfling who had dared to strike him. And though she may have been quick and able, Delilah hadn’t even held a sword before then, let alone faced an opponent who would draw one on her. She fought him off as long as she could, much longer than the bandit had anticipated, which gave time for a knight who happened to be staying within the village that night to slay the man. The knight found the bloodied halfling after the rest of the bandits were driven off. With but a curt nod, the knight laid their sword and shield by Delilah’s feet, disappearing into the night afterwards. Though the reason why was a mystery to Delilah, she took up the knight's arms and realized the full extent of the threats that bordered her home. Battered, bruised, she gazed about at the other injured and made a decision. She couldn't let this happen again. Not on her watch. quote:Delilah Heartspring, Halfling Fighter
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Jun 21, 2016 17:15
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48 hours to get everything in
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Jun 22, 2016 17:35
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Yep sorry for the delay. Landlord gave me 24hr notice of plans to fumigate and I've had to scramble to get poo poo ready
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Jun 22, 2016 18:14
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My original Chaos Mage concept has developed into something interesting, entirely coherent, and utterly outside the scope of "small town heroes." This always happens  e: for reference, it involves a sect of mages who store their spells in children's minds, and one child that got away from them without the customary memory wipe and went on to grew up as an oprah in the village. This is of course a typo, but I feel like I should leave it there. My Lovely Horse fucked around with this message at 18:24 on Jun 22, 2016 |
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Jun 22, 2016 18:19
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 (image credit) Thora Hrasken, Dwarf Paladin Even before I found my calling, I wasn't really a normal villager here. My grandfather is Bjorn Hrasken, the richest man in Summer Vale, and my father is his firstborn and heir. The Hrasken family has been here since the 11th Age, when they came to quarry stone and literally lay the foundations of the village, and we're still stoneworkers and builders today. Well, mostly -- I was training to be an armorsmith, myself, but I'm not really an heir anyway. My mother was an armorsmith in a bigger city, up the river, before she decided to come to the country and settle down, and she said it'd be a good skill for me to have when I... No, this doesn't really matter. I'm not telling the right part of the story, am I? We helped build the church, of course. Everyone was helping out, and Father made sure we brought only the best stone from the quarry. "It never hurts to have the gods owe you a favor," he said. It wasn't like that for me, though. I started helping because I wanted to be a part of something bigger, something for the whole community, and as the church finished... well, I knew what that bigger thing was. When I told Reverend Varan that I wanted to serve as an acolyte, he seemed surprised, but he was happy enough to have me. I'm still the first acolyte who isn't dragonfolk, which... I don't understand. Are people afraid? The Great Gold Wyrm protects all of us; there's nothing to be afraid of! Well, almost nothing. I'm ashamed to say it, but I still have to tell my family that I'm settling down in Summer Vale. It's silly, but I'm not supposed to -- I'm the third child, the youngest, and younger Hrasken children almost never stay here. There aren't many other dwarves here, so there aren't a lot of marriage prospects who aren't our cousins, and Grandfather says we'd be ruined if we had to split the family business and estate among squabbling siblings. My mother was training me in armorsmithing so I could make a good living when I went off to find my fortune in the cities, or even in the underground among the old clans... but I know now that I don't want that. Maybe I'm not normal here, but this is my home, and I want to keep it safe and help it grow. My brother can inherit if he wants; I don't care about that. I care about here. I don't like to tell this to people, because most of them think it's silly, but sometimes I even feel called to protect the village by the Great Gold Wyrm Himself. Reverend Varan says there's no village too small for the Wyrm to watch over -- could I be favored enough to be part of His plan in Summer Vale? I... sometimes I hope so. Right now, though, I just know there's trouble and that I have a duty of vigilance. quote:One Unique Thing: I'm the only non-dragonfolk acolyte of the Great Gold Wyrm in Summer Vale -- not the only worshipper, but the only one called to serve.
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Jun 23, 2016 03:09
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Ludwig, Gnome Chaos Mage When I came here... how many years ago? Don't even remember. But it was autumn, definitely. Anyway, when I came here, the first thing I thought was, now isn't this a nice little place. Got everything a fellow needs, and it's so remote and out of the way. Probably far enough away from, well, anything that, say, a bunch of insane wizards who write down their spells in other people's heads don't even know it exists. That's a definite bonus. No reason to bother the good people of Summer Vale with all that baggage, though. They've been very good to me, even if we don't always see eye to eye on, like, the value of a day's work, but then, I'd have to get up on a stool to see eye to eye with anyone here. And Mr Hrasken has been so very kind as to offer me permanent employment - I mean, like I said to him, a man of his standing, he needs a jester. Everyone does, really. So I'm happy, everyone's happy, it's literally my job to keep people happy, and every year at Harvest Festival I even show them one or two of the tricks I picked up back in the day, as best as I can figure out how to do them anyway. And everyone's always very impressed, although they do tend to take cover when I go on stage. And now all this is supposed to end just like this? Not on my watch! quote:STR 8 My Lovely Horse fucked around with this message at 16:56 on Jun 26, 2016 |
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Jun 23, 2016 10:52
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Alain, the woodcutter’s son, was what most folks in Summer Vale call simple. Not stupid, exactly. Simple. Not especially talkative, curious or given to introspection, always the last to get a joke, but patient, even-tempered and practical. He was well-suited to practicing his father’s trade, which involved long treks into the deep woods to spend many monotonous hours felling trees in the silence and dark. As he grew older, Alain wouldn’t have to settle down because he was already fairly settled. Once his father died, he took up the axe and began making the trips into the forest alone. It was assumed he’d find a wife — Summer Vale not lacking for young women attracted to the prospect of a husband with a stable job and an even disposition — and take his place as an established, if undistinguished, member of the community. This was all before Alain fell in with the Raven. At first, the townsfolk didn’t give much mind to the talking bird that followed Alain out of the woods one day. Even non-magical ravens are known to talk, after all, and hexed creatures, while not common, are hardly unheard of. It seemed like a pleasant sort, and it made Alain happy to have someone to talk to out in the stillness of the woods. But it wasn’t long before the dull woodcutter’s son began showing off strange new abilities. Small things at first — mending a broken pot, lighting his pipe with a snap of his fingers — but soon enough he was accomplishing minor wonders. When asked, he said the Raven had been teaching him. Said it knew an awful lot about magical theory, even though it couldn’t cast spells itself. Said it seemed like he had something of a knack. The townsfolk weren’t sure they approved of Alain’s new hobby. But he was such a simple, kindhearted sort. Surely he couldn’t get up to too much trouble with it. Besides, his new ability to fix things by mumbling some words and making some gestures had already made him quite useful as a handyman around the village. Maybe it was a good thing. Maybe he could even help with the water shortage? One Unique Thing: Alain, despite his mental shortcomings, possesses a savant-like ability when it comes to magic. It just makes sense to him — he has an almost photographic recall of magical concepts, and he can perform even the most complex invocations flawlessly after seeing them demonstrated just a few times. Why a humble woodcutter’s son from a backwater village should have such a gift is a mystery. If the Raven knows, it’s not saying. quote:Alain Fenlaird Baby Babbeh fucked around with this message at 07:22 on Jun 24, 2016 |
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Jun 24, 2016 06:40
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Mikhail - Human Druid If you're looking for a woodsman in Summer Vale, you'll have plenty of choices to pick from. But if you're looking for someone who truly knows the woods and all the various creatures in it, you're probably looking for Mikhail. Which is a problem, because despite having lived in Summer Vale for over ten years, he doesn't actually live in Summer Vale. Instead, Mikhail lives in a simple hut deep in the woods. If you can find him, however, you won't want for a better woodsman. Assuming he's sober, anyway. Mikhail is a rare sight in Summer Vale proper, and for the most part, the residents seem to prefer it that way. When Mikhail isn't drinking or bringing in fresh game to sell for booze money, the solitary woodsman mostly keeps to himself. It's no secret he prefers the forests surrounding Summer Vale over the company of the local populace, and frankly they feel the same way about him. This is only exacerbated by the rumors surrounding Mikhail's true nature; many in Summer Vale believe Mikhail is a werewolf, though they have no proof of their suspicions. Unfortunately for Mikhail, they're right. quote:STR 18 Rhjamiz fucked around with this message at 17:44 on Jun 24, 2016 |
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Jun 24, 2016 07:14
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Thank you for all the submissions. Picks have been made. The Saviours of Summer Vale Ludwig the Gnomish Chaos Mage Keeper the Forgeborn Cleric Deliliah Heartspring the Halfling Fighter Thora Hraskin the Dwarven Paladin Alain Fenlaird the Human Wizard Game thread is up This is now a peanut gallery/ooc thread. In the event of needing to make replacements, it will also be the new recruitment thread. Baby Babbeh, I need an image for Alain    
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Jun 25, 2016 13:11
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Funny thing is that “magic idiot savant“ was the concept for a Wild Mage I once played and I almost revived it for this app.  Looking forward to this! e: I promise not to flake out on posting usually but right now I need a while for my first one, stuck in the middle of a family party. 
My Lovely Horse fucked around with this message at 17:00 on Jun 25, 2016 |
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Jun 25, 2016 16:28
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Man, we have quite a few of the shorter folk in our party, huh? Pretty excited about this, and can't wait to see where it goes. E: Also, it just occurred to me, but are we keeping track of ammunition? TheFireMagi fucked around with this message at 18:16 on Jun 25, 2016 |
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Jun 25, 2016 18:05
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Ah yeah I forgot to address that. No, don't track ammo, but we might play with ammunition numbers for story purposes or what have you.
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Jun 25, 2016 18:38
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Ahahaha, total whiff on icon dice. Nice start, Orokos!
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Jun 25, 2016 18:52
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Antivehicular posted:Ahahaha, total whiff on icon dice. Nice start, Orokos! Well hey there, low roll buddy. Had some bad luck recently with my D&D group, so now I'm really praying that hasn't found its way here somehow.
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Jun 25, 2016 20:14
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Behold my rolls, the lowest in all the land! I'll do up a proper stat block when I'm back home and not sneaking away from the party to post on the internet.
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Jun 25, 2016 21:35
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Here's a character portrait. I'll have a post up in a little bit. Excited to start!
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Jun 26, 2016 01:24
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Jun 26, 2016 08:28
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Just a quick initiative post: url=http://orokos.com/roll/413601]Chaos Magic[/url]: 1d6 2 - Ludwig can cast an attack spell next. Attacking Warp: 1d6 5 - If an enemy disengages from Ludwig, it takes 3 damage.
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Jun 26, 2016 10:03
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Actually, two quick questions: 1. I was in a hurry building Ludwig and hadn't looked at the system in a while, and didn't realize I needed a feat to play around with high weirdness outside of getting critted. If we're playing with incremental advances I'd just take it at the earliest chance, but if not, could I change my feat still? 2. My Living Spellbook background seems to cover pretty much the same ground Alain's does, and it makes more sense for him. Should we leave it like this, or should I come up with something else?
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Jun 26, 2016 11:47
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