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Here we shall playtest some houserules to make the TWS hack invented by our very own TrickyDickNixon not melt the brains of the GM. The rules that we will test are these -Each players gets 2 actions per turn: an Horror action and a Servant action. The Horror action requires an expenditure of Aberrance if the Horror isn’t Stirring or Awake, and always causes a reaction from the world. The Servant action allows the Horror to activate any of their mortal servants (Agents, Cults, Forces etc.) and have them act. This only causes a reaction from the world if the servant interacts with a Faction or other mortal actor. -Servitors are no longer a special kind of Aspect; they are instead a Lesser Horror. A Dormant or Imprisoned Horror with an active Servitor Lesser Horror does not spend Aberrance every time they take a Horror action. The servitors, however, only remain active for one age unless the Horror activates their Perversity. Perversity: 1 Aberrance to mantain the benefit of Servitors for one more age. paradoxGentleman fucked around with this message at 20:11 on Mar 11, 2017 |
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Mar 11, 2017 02:18
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 The Bittercold, the Age of Ice, the Cold that Hates, the Winter Chains, the Creeping Paradise Below: The Frozen Hell Deep below the ground, long buried beneath the unmeasurable weight of the earth, lies a damned place. Frozen beyond recognition lie the remains of an old civilization - long forgotten - but never left. For within it resides a cold so strong, so hateful, so miserable that even the souls of the dead get frozen, and forever bound in an unmoving paradise... Imprisoned:: The first Ice Age Long ago, the Bittercold nearly claimed the entire planet in it's eternal, rigid grasp - but the gods intervened, creating seven Eternal Pyres that held at bay the unbearable cold until the Bittercold could be sealed. However, a long time since has passed, and mortals have all but forgotten the original purpose of the Pyres - and their importance... Realm: Cocytus, the Frigid Paradise Once a thriving metropolis of dwarvenkind, all but the dwarves have forgotten about its existence. During the first Ice Age, the city - and its inhabitants - were sacrificed in order to lure what amounts to the brain of the Bittercold into a trap that ended in it being sealed away. It was quickly consumed by the miserable cold of the Bittercold, and nothing with it moves. The Erosion of the Soul The Bittercold is more than just a simple manifestation of the cold. As damning as it is, it is also beautiful. No living being can remain in even a tiny shred of its influence without changing. They find themselves drawn to the cold, appreciating it... Seeking it out. Eventually, the cold completely takes a hold of the soul, twisting it for its own ends. The Esssence of Cold What the Bittercold does is relatively simple - but what it lacks in complexity, it has in power. It sucks any and all heat out its surroundings, creating an environment completely inhabitable to all but the most resistant of beings within mere seconds. Other than the Eternal Pyres, there exists no flame in the world that can halt its momentum for long. Harbinger: The All-Consuming Winter The Bittercold wants only one thing: The complete and utter erradication of warmth in the world. With that in mind, it is drawn to places that are sources of heat, in order to snuff them out, be they volcanoes, deserts... or cities. Awful +0 Dreadful +2 Leery +3 Restless +1 Subtle +2 Uncanny -1 Weird +2 Gifts: Because the Bittercold leaves Frozen Paradises in it's wake, minions gain +2 to Leerily Creating Advantages when creating Ice Sculptures which do more than meets the eye. Doom: 0 Omen: Blue Aberrance: 2 (Refresh:2) Occult: 13 Masks: None, yet. Lesser Horrors: None, yet. Minions: None, yet. (Agents, cults, etc. will go here.) Yami Fenrir fucked around with this message at 17:02 on Mar 11, 2017 |
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Mar 11, 2017 02:20
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The MEAT PLANET lives  If this thing ever gets off the ground that is   Mar'arr'nenkeshet, The Formless One, The Gnasher of Teeth, The Creeping Maw, The Endless Plain of Writhing Flesh and Eyes and Bone Beyond: The Ancient Seed Of Being Life. Life is such a strange thing. A gathering of flesh and blood and nerves that thinks itself important. A pitiful, sad thing that scratches and bites to survive and bring forth progeny, as if these things held some meaning, brought some purpose to the brief and vanishing instants that they persist. Yet persist they do. On nearly every World, on nearly every Plane of being and every Sphere, life finds a way to flourish. Somehow, the sparks and seeds of this enigmatic entity find a way to burrow their roots in nearly every place where even the smallest crack presents itself. Mar'arr'nenkeshet could then perhaps be best described as such a seed of life, one of the oldest and most primal of all, one that long ago found purchase in a plane of its own. It embodies the most primal parts of life. Of growth, constant and tenacious and all-consuming. Of change, the constant evolution of form under duress. Of the oldest, most primal feelings, of fear and of pain. Dormant: The Sleeping World Long ago, Mar'arr'nenkeshet consumed all that was to be consumed in its own pocket of the multiverse, integrating it into its very own form. And then, as many living things are wont, it slumbered. For eons, in complete peace. But now it stirs. Realm: Its writhing self Mar'arr'nenkeshet constitutes an entire planet into itself. This is its home. This is where it persists, in writhing and trashing imprisonment, with nowhere else to expand into. The Songs of Life and Death And so it shall be, that the places where the influence of Mar'arr'nenkeshet is felt, so is also felt his touch. First, supernatural moistness, the stench of blood. Then, fleshy membranes, eyes growing from stalks. Finally, great spires of bone and pustules the size of small lakes jutting from the landscape. The influence of Mar'arr'nenkeshet is akin to a creeping infection, a slowly growing cancer upon the lands and all those that inhabit it. All that refuses to change is swept away. Hellstar As Mar'arr'nenkeshet becomes ascendant, and drags itself through the spheres, it will eventually find itself to the night sky, first a curiosity for the odd astronomer, but becoming more and more prominent as it gets closer. If it gets close enough, who knows... Harbinger Aspect: The Feast Mar'arr'nenkeshet seeks to enter this World and consume it, become One with it, as it did with its home. This is its driving purpose. The endless Hunger that needs to be sated. Approaches
Gifts Because Mar'arr'nenkeshet, like life itself, is Ever Changing, Ever Adapting, minions gain +2 to Restlessly creating advantages when undergoing spontaneous mutation. Doom: 0 Omen: Red Aberrance: 3 (Refresh:3) Occult:10 Masks: None, yet. Lesser Horrors None, yet. Minions None, yet. (Agents, cults, etc. will go here.) Theantero fucked around with this message at 13:22 on Mar 11, 2017 |
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Mar 11, 2017 02:27
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 Ianu, the God of Gods, the Mandate from Heaven, the King of Stars and Sky Above: The Celestial Tyrant Once upon a time, Ianu was feared yet revered as the God of Gods, who dictated over the world, its people, and even his divine children. He bended them to his every whim, seeing each and all as nothing more than mere toys. But as millenniums passed, and his loathsome reign continued, the other gods eventually harnessed enough power and willpower to defeat their celestial father... Dormant: The Exiled Immortal ...yet not enough to vanquish him forevermore. Instead, they managed only to banish the weakened Tyrant from the Heavens, and later erected sacred barriers around the planet to prevent his re-entry. Bloodied and enraged, the Tyrant retreated to rest and recover from his wounds, preparing himself all the while to reclaim what rightfully belongs to him. That is to say, everything. Realm: Yu’Zerif, the Conquered World Even in his damaged state, the God of Gods had more than enough strength in reserve to impose his control over the distant planet of Yu’Zerif. There, the Tyrant slumbers while keeping a mind’s eye upon both his new and old domains. Soon, he shall rise and return… or perhaps be stopped permanently. A Will that Will Not Be Defied Ianu's sheer force of presence, bolstered by his unshakable confidence in himself, compels weak-minded individuals to take the knee. Only but a single word is necessary to sway the hearts and mind of the masses, corrupting their very essence into the ideal servant and worshiper. Fallen, but not Forgotten Though his rule may be toppled, the Skies and Stars do not so easily forget the King that tamed them, warping themselves as he sees fit. Barren land washed away in the sudden deluge, summer day collapsing under winter snow, and the sun never giving way to the moon... if their King commands it, they shall obey. Harbinger Aspect: The Iron Fist One way or another, the Celestial Tyrant seeks a method to bring his upstart heirs to heel, and reinstate his domination over all. His need for control and superiority fuels him more than anything else ever could. Approaches Awful: +2 Dreadful: +3 Leery: +2 Restless: +1 Subtle: 0 Uncanny: +1 Weird: 0 Gifts Because the Celestial Tyrant considers himself Above Repercussions, minions gain +2 to Dreadfully Creating an Advantage when attempting to command those in a position to dangerously retaliate. Doom: 0 Omen: Green Aberrance: 3 (Refresh: 3) Occult: 10 Masks: None Lesser Horrors: None Minions: None TheFireMagi fucked around with this message at 22:10 on Mar 11, 2017 |
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Mar 11, 2017 04:07
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 Urncestor, the Common Father, the Primeval King, First Speaker of Language, and True Patriarch of Men  And his throne. Before: Before there were Gods to be worshiped, before there were stars in the sky, things crawled in the mud and dust of the earth. They had no knowledge and no spirit. They chewed roots for nourishment. They lived and slept and died in the open air. Until - one of them crushed the others underneath his feet; he beat them so they would know their place, and bent their wills to his needs. It was at the moment, with the spark of Authority in his eyes, that Urncestor spoke the First Words of The World: "Kneel." Death came for him like it came for his animal fathers, but he was a different thing from them, and so he with his last true breath he commanded Death, "Flee." and it did, and his reign continued. Stirring: The Once and Future Master But the world was a small and simple place. At first, he was content to walk the land, searching for life that was not his progeny. When he found it, he destroyed it, and his decedents filled the gap. After eons, he grew bored, and so he had his subjects prepare a bed for him to rest on. Before he slept, he made his most notable children swear a covenant upon their blood - they must awaken him when something new emerged, so he could define and dominate it as he had everything else on the land. Later, now, by chance or fate he wakes with righteous anger; his scions had broken their covenant. They had forgotten him, and he would make them rue their mistake. Owner of the First Tongue Runes, incantation, song, prayer - all are vulgar attempts to reach back towards an older, purer language. The root words, the sounds that enabled, and limited, thought and expression for thousands and thousands of generations. Some wizards have jested that the only proper description of magecraft is "the studious application of linguistics to a language no one has ever heard, or could ever remember." Urncestor is a native speaker. He does not describe, he defines. His words can bind meaning, limit change, and shave away extraneous potential. Modern, vulgar speakers will chant for a thousand hours with a thousand tongues, and say less than Urncestor does in a single sentence. Urncestor does not boast when he claims to be the father of all sentient beings; it is mere fact. (Yes, even the mermaids and mermen.) With the passing of time came change and mutation, and the families he raised so long ago turned into different 'races'. His children had not only forgotten their father, they had forgotten their own brothers and sisters. Such ignorance was almost a crime. There are many spells and weapons in the world targeted against outsiders. The elves craft arrowheads that burn orcish flesh. Such a thing would be impossible to create against Urncester. The world is his household. It is his power, his right, to strip rebellious children of the gifts he gave them. To rip out language, cooking, and shelter, and send them into the wilds as beasts. To his great displeasure, not everything in the world comes from Urncestor. The gods, the stars, they were not here when he first laid down to sleep. And Nothing He Valued Was Not His, or, All the Treasures of the World. Urncestor crafted the first pot; it was wondrous, and all his children imitated him. Urncestor forged the first knife; it was wondrous, and all his children imitated him. Urncestor wrote the first symbol; it represented him, and he placed upon the land because it was his, his, his. Later, while he slept, all his children imitated him. Invention is always based on older designs, and the oldest designs are all traced back to Urncestor. Given some time, he can understand the evolution of what he first made long ago into what exists now, and recreate any artifact crafted by mortal hands. A son should use the tool granted to him by his father. He should dedicate himself utterly to it, for to do otherwise would be to spurn the gift, and he should do this while understanding that he can never truly master the art as well as it's creator. This is the natural order of things. Harbinger Aspect: Every Sapling Bows To Father Oak Urncestor has awoken to world gone wrong. Children disrespect their parents, tradition is constantly being overturned, these godthings are being worshiped instead of the Ancestors (and the oldest Ancestor of all, him). He wishes to right these wrongs. He will show his wayward children the meaning of his first lesson: Civilization is the enslavement of the weak by the strong. Where he walks, they shall follow. Where he sits, they shall kneel. And if they do not... there are ways to teach children, and there are ways to punish them. Approachs: Awful: +1 Dreadful: +2 Leery: +2 Restless: -1 Subtle: +0 Uncanny: +3 Weird: +2 Gifts Because Urncestor has knowledge of the First Words of Creation, he and his minions gain a +2 when trying to Weirdly defend using their commands or magic. Doom: 0 Omen: Red Aberrance: 4 (Refresh: 4) Occult: 7 Masks: None, yet. Lesser Horrors None, yet. Minions None, yet. (Agents, cults, etc. will go here.) Scrree fucked around with this message at 00:00 on Mar 14, 2017 |
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Mar 11, 2017 16:13
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Tign The King of Kings, the Beautiful Tyrant, the Master, Majesty Unleased Within: A “man” of such majesty, that all must bow Tign’s true history has been lost to the ages. Sufficed to say, through a lifetime of dark and terrible rituals, he cast off his humanity and became something more. He gained a form so beautiful and majestic, that to look upon it or hear his voice, was to become his devoted slave. Tign took full advantage of his power, and soon had enslaved several kingdoms. It is said absolute power corrupts absolutely, and Tign was no exception. Whatever purpose he might have once had, noble or not, decades of being surrounded entirely by fawning slaves led him to fall victim to vanity and hubris. Being told over and over how great and wondrous he was and how happy they all were to serve him he soon came to believe it. Debauchery and depravity soon became common sights at his court, supplicants were tortured or executed for the slightest infraction, and all gathered praised his wisdom and mercy as he did so. However, that hubris was to be his undoing. Awakening Aspect Imprisoned: Sealed In the Golden Palace Alon was born in what had been a rival kingdom. Of course, after Tign’s “ascension” such trivialities as rivals fell by the wayside as all offered themselves up to him. Alon’s parents had been at the frontline, and had already fallen under his sway. However, for some trival reason or another they had offended Tign who had ordered them to slit their own throats, an order they happily obeyed. Alon burning with rage, swore vengeance, and he tore out his own eyes and pierces his own ear-drums rather than allow himself to be enslaved like the rest. He wandered for many weeks, eventually reaching the far mountains. There, on the brink of death, he was taken in by an order of monks. The monks taught him to see without seeing, to hear without hearing, to survive and thrive despite all he did not have. After years of training, Alon decided the time was right to seek his revenge and free the kingdoms at the same time. He simply walked into the palace, for what need were there for guards, who could look upon Him and not offer themselves up to serve. Tign’s hubris was his undoing, even as it happened he did not believe any would truly harm him. In a way he was correct, but in a much deeper way he was not. For when the monk stood over him ready to kill, a single pleading touch was all but overwhelmed him, breaking his resolve. So, unable to bring himself to land the killing blow, Alon instead imprisoned him. With a great and ancient magic, the monk sunk the great golden palace in which Tign resided deep within the earth, binding him to the bounds of the building. The spell was tied to the monk’s blood, passed down the generations, should they willingly choose to release it the seal can be lifted, and Tign can be let free. Realm: The Golden Palace Built as a monument to his glory, this grand palace was covered in every finery and contained every luxury. When Alon imprisoned Tign, the palace was swallowed up by the earth, it’s splendor forming an eternal prison for Tign. So he waited, alone for centuries as the world above forgot him, and all traces of his kingdom were destroyed by time. However, fate is fickle, and now a cave in a remote mine has opened a way into the golden palace, though the seal still keeps Tign from leaving its boundary. Whispers on the Wind Tign may be imprisoned, but his majesty can never be truly contained. Over the centuries he has learned whisper into the walls of his prison, allowing his words to seep up through the earth and be carried on the wind. They lack his full terrible power, but they can be carried anywhere the wind can go. Enduring Presence The weight of Tign's glory is indescribable, but all agree that to submit to it is the greatest bliss imaginable. No man can experience it and remain unchained, even if Tign's memory be purged from the world, those he touched will still long to return to his domination. Even down the generations, some decedents still feel the itch in the back of their minds, drawing them to him even if they know not what or why it really is. Harbinger Aspect: The King of Kings Tign once ruled the whole world, or at least a part of it. Now he hungers for dominance again, and he will not be satisfied until all the peoples of the world offer themselves up in joyful slavery to him. Until that day comes, he lusts after symbols and trappings of his majesty. Approaches
Gifts Because Tign grants a Terrible Majesty, minions gain a +2 when trying to Dreadfully attack someone using their majesty or presence. Doom: 0 Omen: Yellow Aberrance: 2 (Refresh: 2) Occult: 13 Masks: None, yet. Lesser Horrors None, yet. Minions None, yet. (Agents, cults, etc. will go here.) Valhawk fucked around with this message at 01:56 on Mar 16, 2017 |
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Mar 11, 2017 21:56
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