“A whole summer of adventure awaits!” the poster said. “Camp Bluegrass, the summer camp where the water’s blue and the grass is too!” Your parents were fooled. Their friends were fooled. But you weren’t. An entire summer with only other kids and disinterested camp counselors for company sounds like the worst way to spend three months. But you were sent anyway, against all your complaints and concerns, never having gone there themselves.
The reality is that Camp Bluegrass is barely one step up from a juvenile prison. Despite being a summer camp, Bluegrass is open year-round due to a problem it had its’ first year, and in fact continues to have. Some parents decided they were better off without their children, and “forgot” to come pick them up. Since they couldn’t just release the kids onto the street or into the wild, the camp was forced to stay open, eventually receiving official grant money from the government in order to afford to house and feed the hundred-some children and staff.
After word got out, the reputation of Camp Bluegrass being a place to drop off your children for a year or two unfortunately spread. Some kids are there for only the three months of summer, but the camp has a permanent population; mostly the adult counselors, but some of the abandoned children stay long enough to be hired as staff. The result is barely organized, with no one person truly being in charge, but the camp has managed to provide two meals a day plus snacks and decent if not comfortable shelter for all of the children attending for more than a decade now.
There are even the beginnings of a rudimentary civilization showing up. Some of the attendees are deacons of major or minor gods, which allows for mostly accurate worship services to be performed. One year, some of the kids made a forge, so now there’s a blacksmithing service for the pony stables which can also make weapons and armor when none of the counselors are watching. A couple of the kids can even enchant them. A tiefling boy named Jen’ifer has tried to make a ruling children’s counsel of sorts with his cohorts, but since they’re afraid of others older or stronger than them, they have little real authority even when the adult counselors aren’t paying attention.
So, Camp Bluegrass actually is a place of adventure, friendship, and character-building. But it’s not nearly as controlled or positive as they would have you believe. Will you make enough friends to brave the nearby cave system, which may or may not have a dragon inside? Can you survive the all the drama with your dignity intact? All this and more are the challenges waiting for you at Camp Bluegrass.
This will be a low-level, small-scale D&D 4e game focusing on more personal conflicts than murderhobo quests and world-ending conspiracies. You are a teenager (or other-species equivalent to a human teenager) trying to survive the social challenges of a summer camp you might be attending for years. There will still be combat, there will still be adventuring, but it will all be conducted at the summer camp from hell.
Start at level 1. Looking for 3-4 players. For humans, you should be age 14-16, and non-humans should be within the equivalent ages for their species. You can use any official class/race you want (as long as you can tell me where it appears in official materials), but we will not be factoring in feat taxes or inherent bonuses to start with. You can only start with mundane equipment No magic items. Because we will be staying at low levels for a while, you will be allowed to swap out your Encounter powers during short rests and Daily powers during long rests. I may also allow use of some powers from higher levels as the game goes on.
This will be a Play-by-Post game, so don't worry so much about getting your action just right. If two characters want to have a longer conversation, go ahead and have it in IM and post the result in the thread. Let us know if you won't be able to post for a few days.
RyuHimora fucked around with this message at May 18, 2018 around 03:00
|# ? May 15, 2018 16:42|
|# ? May 26, 2018 02:13|
|# ? May 15, 2018 17:00|
Might be interested! Haven't played 4E yet so I'll be catching up.
|# ? May 15, 2018 17:35|
This'll be a good game to learn it, we won't be getting into the super heavy combat and I have several years experience introducing new players to the game.
e: Feel free to join the Discord and ask for help building a character.
RyuHimora fucked around with this message at May 15, 2018 around 17:54
|# ? May 15, 2018 17:44|
Cassi (Cassia Nightingale Valendrien XIV), Eladrin Wizard
“Cassia! Did you think I wouldn’t find out about this?” Aerwyna, Viscountess of the Emerald Chamber, shouts. The Eladrin Noble, her eyes flashing with the hot anger of scorching summer day, slams her fist on the armrest of her shining green throne.
The Lady’s daughter responds by shrugging with all the cool, unconcerned weight of a summer breeze.
“Find out about what, Mother?” Cassi asks. She crosses her arms as only a decades-old adolescent can cross their arms.
“Don’t play dumb with me, daughter.” Aerwyna shakes her head. “Did you really think applying to Camp Bluegrass under an assumed name would fool me? I mean, ‘Issac’? Honestly.”
Cassi scowls, her countenance taking on a tiny fraction of the awesome terror that her fey mother possesses. She thought she would at least be able to get on the road before her mother found out, but since it is now out in the open, the resentment of many long years cooped up in the lands of the fey nobility comes rushing out before she can stop it.
“Did it not occur to you that perhaps I wanted you to know?” she demands. “That I am sick of everything in my life being planned and regimented as a result of decisions made before I was born?”
“You foolish, ungrateful child,” the Viscountess says. “After everything I have sacrificed for my family, for you, over centuries, this is how you repay me? Can you comprehend how much in gold alone it cost to secure your apprenticeship to the Archmagus Kalysto? I will not allow you to throw all of that away!”
“You are always so dramatic, Mother!” Cassi says, stretching out her arms in exasperation. “I’m not saying I won’t be his apprentice, and I’m not saying I will! I’m only saying that I need a break! I want to make friends, I want to see the world. And I want the world to see me! In case you haven’t noticed, I’m pretty great.”
“Of course you are ‘pretty great’,” Aerwyna shouts. “You are the only daughter of the Emerald Chamber!” She then quiets down, turning her attention to documents she must review as part of her duties, and continues dismissively. “And now you will return to your quarters and cultivate that greatness with your studies.”
The Viscountess’s stare threatens to burn a hole through the parchment she holds. “Pardon me, my dear daughter?”
“Respectfully, I cannot obey that command, Mother,” she responds.
Instead of shouting, Viscountess Aerwyna speaks slowly and deliberately. Cassi recognizes it as the voice her mother uses when she is about to order a harsh punishment. “And why, if I may ask, not?”
Cassi stares at her feet, the anger from moments before abating but not disappearing entirely. Instead she reflects. Memories of all the previous times she had tried to stand up to her mother like this come flooding back to Cassi. They were dismal failures before the intimidating fury of the nobility. But today, something is different. Perhaps hope or excitement at all the new prospects that will open up to her at camp. If I gather enough followers… I mean friends… or win enough treasure, I can strike out on my own and not have to bother with an apprenticeship at all. Then the whole world will love me! And not just the whole world…
Cassi folds her hands in front of her and speaks in a quiet voice of her own, filled not with anger, but with quiet determination. “I believe this is an opportunity I cannot miss. You and Father are always telling me that I am destined for great things, aren’t you? Well, I think this camp is part of that destiny. I mean, it is a summer camp, and we are summer fey! I wish to go and see. At worst, if I am wrong, then I will return with you having been proven right. So please, just this once--let me try something on my own!”
Cassi fully expects to be rebuked, and she braces herself for the summer storm coming. But it doesn’t come.
“Very well,” Viscountess Aerwyna says. “I will permit you to attend for one season.”
“Oh, Mother, thank you!” Cassi is on the verge of bursting with excitement, but then her mother continues talking.
“But first, you will write a detailed letter explaining and apologizing for your absence to Archmagus Kalysto. And while you attend, Baron Chipahia will be bound to you as a familiar, and he will report to me if you so much as think of doing anything that would disgrace your station. Do I make myself clear?”
Not even these harsh conditions can completely snuff the fire of Cassi’s happiness. “Yes, Mother! I will not disappoint you, Mother!”
“See that you do not.” Aerwyna lifts the parchment she was reading before, obscuring the small smile on her face. “And have fun.”
Being the only child of Summer Fey nobles, Cassi is brazenly confident in everything she does. She does possess talents, to be sure, but even when she failed at something outside those talents, her parents were always there to remind her of her great destiny. For much the same reason, she is completely ignorant about how most of the "real world" works, even just as far as the lands surrounding her palace. But her curiosity and loneliness have finally overwhelmed her desire for comfort, and she is committed to leaving her privileged life behind.
Camp Bluegrass will definitely not live up to Cassi's expectation's of it.
Mannerisms and appearance:
Clothing is one of the first areas Cassi asserted her independence. She loves to dress in the most stereotypically 'wizardly' outfits she can find, though of course modified to highlight her natural beauty. Pointy, floppy hats have never been the style among Eladrin wizards, or so she has been told, and she delights in the attention they bring her, positive and negative.
She is never *knowingly* mean or condescending, but due to her isolated upbringing, she frequently says impolitic things about and to others. And if such a faux pas is brought to her attention, she usually deals with the embarrassment by doubling down and causing further insult, rather than apologizing.
Companions and allies:
Chipahia ('Chip'), Baron of Wind-Stirred Wheat, is the noble whom Lady Aerwyna tasked with keeping an eye on her daughter. He is bound to Cassi as a Coure Attendant familiar and performs those duties with only a little complaint, but he never lets her forget that he serves her mother, not Cassi. He may not always have her personal interests at heart, though certainly her "best" interests, according to Aerwyna.
|# ? May 16, 2018 00:18|
Veyza, Shadar-Kai Convert to Melora (Avenger)
"Hey, Brother Aelethas. How's it going?" Despite her casual tone, the youth approaches her mentor respectfully, remaining at the edge of the glade until bidden. Aelethas, a relatively young elven ascetic who serves as Camp Bluegrass's Meloran cleric, sighs and beckons for his student to come sit.
"I hear you've been fighting again." His tone is neutral, as if he may as well be remarking on the tree Veyza had just been leaning against. It's a tone Veyza has come to dread - it means he's testing her. She fights back the urge to get defensive. Taking a deep breath, she tries to respond the way he's taught her, simply explaining events without trying to justify her actions.
"I was teaching some of the kids to hunt today. Brandis shot a deer after it was already down, so I punched him in the head. We fought." More words come to her - excuses, blame, anger, pride at how easily she took the burly human down - but she swallows them and waits for Aelethas' response. Much to her annoyance, Aelethas makes her wait, simply regarding her with the same neutral expression for a full minute before opening up.
"I sympathize with your anger. If I saw an adult hunter displaying such cruelty, I would not be inclined toward mercy. But Brandis is fifteen. You're supposed to be teaching the younger kids, not beating them up." A hit of annoyance creeps into the elf's voice. He is quick to correct it, taking a deep breath of his own before continuing gently, "I believe in you, Veyza. You've grown a lot since you first arrived, and you've been a great help over the last year. But we can't go back to you getting in fights. You know I've-"
"-had to fight hard to let me stay. Ironically." Smirking at her little joke, Veyza lifts a pacifying hand to get ahead of her mentor's inevitable exasperated retort. "Don't worry, I'm taking this seriously. I can't stand the Erathites sometimes, but I'm working on channeling that emotion. Like you taught me, right?"
"Just please don't let it happen again." Aelethas bows his head slightly to signify that the talk is over. "Before you go, how's the ritual offering coming along?"
"If you keep letting me do it, I'm going to be a better carver than you." Veyza beams. As much as she's tried to distance herself from her upbringing, the old shadar-kai boastfulness shows no signs of going away. "I'll have it ready for tomorrow." Self-satisfied with her answer, she bows and gets up to leave. Brushing a few leaves off her clothes, she turns and walks back out of the glade, picking up an axe she stashed behind a tree before taking off at a run through the forest, grinning from ear to ear. She can ruminate on the talk and feel bad about herself later. Here in the woods, her heart puts those emotions aside. Here, alone, it has only room for joy at Melora's beauty, and joy at bounding through it as wild things do. She's come to actually like the camp after her three years here, but the forest is what she loves.
Veyza has been a year-round resident of Camp Bluegrass for three years. Her adventurer parents dropped her off at the age of 14, seeking either glory or the Raven Queen's embrace by raiding a blue dragon's lair. They never came back. Bitter at their abandonment and possessed with the same thirst for conflict that permeates most shadar-kai, Veyza's first year at the camp saw her earn a fearsome reputation for trouble. Things had gotten to the point where some of the camp counselors started talking about potentially kicking her out. Thankfully, Brother Aelethas, the camp's Meloran cleric, saw something to relate to in her tendency to hang out in the wilderness alone and intervened. Two years later, Veyza is a much more constructive presence around the camp, hunting and gathering to help provide food and even helping out with building projects now and again. She still has a lot of growing up to do, though - she has a competitive streak as wide as the horizon and a short fuse that still gets the best of her from time to time. She doesn't seem to have a ton of ambition other than a vague desire to follow Melora and "be a better person", but her inability to be idle for more than a few minutes at a time means she's never far from adventure.
Wol fucked around with this message at May 16, 2018 around 04:51
|# ? May 16, 2018 03:32|
Sorien Aelius, Eladrin Feylock
Have you ever wished, that despite the best of intentions, someone would stop trying to help you? Sorien most certainly has. His mother, a magician of no real renown, served as a scribe for the queen-mother of the Winter Court for many years. Yes, indeed, that Queen Mab. Though known for her mercurial nature, it must be said that the Queen knows how to reward those who have served her faithfully... though her perception of a fitting boon is often quite different than that of the recipients. When Sorien's mother conceived him, she was visited in the night by the Queen and bestowed her blessing.
This, naturally, has caused Sorien all sorts of trouble. For one, the typical Eladrin affinity for the fey and feywild has been cranked up to a rather obscene degree. Where some might simply attract the attentions thereof from time to time, his very presence seems to call the feywild to wherever he may be. His belongings shift and churn in unusual ways, always taking an appearance that suggest he's rather otherworldly. He found an egg one time and, in an attempt to hatch it, found that he was now the proud parent of a tiny owlbear. It must be said that they aren't very good at living the sort of quiet, bookish life that he favored.
And this whole mess with camp? Another boon from his fairy godmother! She peeks in on his life, from time to time, and saw that he wasn't the social butterfly she imagined him to be. A touch of glamour doesn't make an introvert any less so, but suffice to say that even if the Queen did believe that, it would only cause her to redouble her efforts. So, for the time being, Sorien and his adorable, yet mischievous companion, Isfin, find themselves faced with the most terrifying of fates: socializing with peers.
Tricky fucked around with this message at May 16, 2018 around 17:44
|# ? May 16, 2018 04:39|
Deep in the very center of the forest where the trees themselves begint to look fantastical a hauntingly beautiful melody can be heard. The soft rustling of leaves as someone moves through the forest toward the sound of music, of laughter and mirth. Dancing lights can be seen ahead. Shimmering and shining in many colors.
Many of the lights change even as the figure moves through the dense brush. Twirling, swirling, zigging and zagging. Tinkling bells of laughter of mirth. The figure bursts out into a clearing dominated by a massive circle of strange forest mushrooms. Stopping before stepping over the circle of small mushrooms the figure gasps for breath and exclaims.
"Juniper! Juniper! Have you heard? The Lady Cassia is going to be leaving!"
The lights circle and jig, bouncing up and down as they go. One separates from the dance, changing colors as it moves closer. It flits up to the girl, twirls and flies upside down.
"Now now little one who ever are you talking about?"
The girl huffs. Her slightly pointed ears vibrating in indignation. "You know who I am talking about! I am talking about Cassia Nightingale Valendrien! The daughter of the Viscountess. And why do you call me little one? I am a lot bigger than you! I don't think I was ever as small as you!"
The tiny figure, his gossamer wings, dandelion hair, and shimmering eyes all changing colors as he moves laughs a tinkling bell laugh. He settles upon her head "Oh little Amber big you may be. But little to me. You will always be little in my heart. But whoever do you mean? I know no Cassia Nightingale Valendrien. Nor any Viscountess. Far too stuffy sounding."
The girl stamps her foot, and knocks the pixie off her head. "You know who I mean. I know you do. You told me stories about how you used to care for her like me, when her mother wasn't looking. How many noble wizards are even around here."
Juniper zips around and taps the girl's nose. "Ah now here we go. The girl with the wizard's hat. Quite fetching. You are speaking of little Cassi. Now why didn't you say? Yes much fun was had with her when her mother wasn't watching. Pity she grew so much. Not like my little Amber, yes?"
The girl steps back aghast. "Juniper! You can't call her that. She is a lady!"
Tinkling laughter. "She is a girl. A wizard in training. And quite a bit of fun. But a lady? What is a lady? Hee hee hee."
He zips around. "So little Cassie is leaving? So soon? So soon? Is it soon? And where goes this lady who has you aquiver with admiration?"
The girl blushes. "I don't know what you are talking about. And she is going to Camp Bluegrass. It is apparently something called a summer camp where people from all over come together to learn and bond and do all kinds of group activities. And Lady Cassia chose to go to this place herself!"
The pixie smiles at the girls reaction. He flits back, swirls around the mushroom circle, and then stops, one leg crossed over the other as he sits in the air, his tiny wings beating furiously to keep him in place. He places a finger along his chin. "Hmm a camp, a camp, a camp? What can this camp be? And little Cassie is going all alone? To get along with others? Hmm hmm hmm. Hee hee hee. This sounds fun! I believe I shall go as well!"
"Juniper! You can't go!" The girl shouts, causing the other pixies to shiver in place then fly off, the fun long gone. "You are a pixie. You aren't a noble, or even an elf or human. You are too small, and uh. You, well, you are a pixie. You know what people think about pixies?"
Juniper begins zipping around, wagging a finger at the girl. "Now, now, fun is to be had. I can't stay here if little Cassie is going out into the world to this camp thing. Now could I?"
He comes to a stop in front of the girl. Standing straight. "I Prince Juniper Briarthorn Maplesap Nettle Thistledown Hazelwood Sparrowhawk swear to you my dearl lady Amber that I will be on my very best behavior as I enjoy this summer camp. Yes." Solemn, with a deep and dignified bow.
The girl is caught off guard by this performance, and these words. So unlike the Juniper she knows. But in a moment she collects herself. And blurts out. "You aren't any of those things! You are just a pixie! And you can't be on your best behavior. Just the other day you put a slug down my dress!"
Still solemn the pixie looks up. "And a magnificent slug it was. Very well bred. Full and slimy. A truly princely slug. I would use nothing less on my little Amber." Then a cheshire grin breaks out, ruining the solemn act. The pixie begins to shake. Then begins to laugh the tinkley bell like laugh. Then begins to roll around in the air.
"Such a magnificent slug. And your shriek? So beautiful. My dear little Amber. I shall miss you while I am away. But I shall return and when I do I will have stories. Stories of camp and stories of little Cassie working so hard to get along with others. You always did love my stories. Particularly about little Cassie." He begins to giggle again. "Ah but your reactions to my little pranks. To think you had never heard about replacing a wand with a stick insect. Hee hee."
He flies up to the girl, and pats her head. "Do not cry little Amber. I am many things. Mischievous and fool hardy. Kind and cruel. Childish? Of course! I am a Pixie! But there is one thing above all others. I care for my little ones. And I will watch over them. So I promise to return to you. And I will see to it that little Cassie returns to you as well. And perhaps you can gather up the courage to speak to her, if we can get her away from her mother for a time."
He moves down, and wipes some tears from the girl's face. A gentleness at odds with his earlier mantic mirth.
|# ? May 16, 2018 06:41|
Might be interested! Haven't played 4E yet so I'll be catching up.
One of the players dropped out, so if you're still willing to have a go I'm holding that slot open for you.
|# ? May 16, 2018 15:52|
One of the players dropped out, so if you're still willing to have a go I'm holding that slot open for you.
You might want to let someone else take it, since I'm going to be out of town for about two weeks straight starting next week and then another two or three weeks for a legal case in July.
|# ? May 16, 2018 17:52|
Marmosette Hawkins, Changeling Thief
Sette's "casual" face--the one she puts on when she's not actively mimicking some other appearance.
Sette's natural face. Nobody sees this if she can help it.
Any family with the best breeding--and increasingly these days, the best money--sends their daughters to the Conservatorium of St. Rundiment, the most ancient and prestigious boarding school on the continent. Girls as young as five are tutored in the arts of etiquette, tapestry-weaving, yelling at servants...all the most vital skills a noblewoman might be expected to know. That is not to say that St. Rundiment's is entirely exclusive, of course. Occasionally some wastrel child or even infant is left at the conservatorium's front gates, despite the vigilance of the proctors. These "Hawkins Girls"--named for the founder of the conservatorium, Her Excellency Her Grace the Duchess of Upper and Lower Balk, Agonista Honorificabilita Apatheia Crepitina Hawkins, First of Her Name--are taken in by the conservatorium and given better than they deserve, being raised in the finest tradition.
They are also bullied, mercilessly and without exception, by classmates--and the occasional teacher--who were raised to see titles and holdings rather than people. Mostly they grow into frail, timid things, who wish for nothing in life except to never be noticed. Once in a blue moon, however, there is a Hawkins Girl who turns out to be made of steel.
Such is Marmosette the shapeshifter, for whom "freak" and "mutant" were expressions of loving kindness. The school's complete lack of knowledge about her race and family, not to mention its sparse curriculum, left Sette with a bottomless thirst for information. Its byzantine, arbitrary rules of conduct left Sette disdainful of boundaries. And her early failures at physical self-defense inspired Sette to fight back with intelligence, making the best possible use of her unique probably-natural gifts.
Thus was born the Agonista Tribune, St. Rundiment's first--and its faculty dearly hopes last--freely-distributed underground newspaper, a weapon mightier than the sword against injustices great and small. As its anonymous editrix-in-chief and sole contributor under dozens of noms de plume, Sette stalked the halls in a hundred guises, mercilessly ferreting out scandal, sifting truth from rumor, setting up illicit printing operations in disused classrooms and delivering still-damp bundles of broadsheets to the dormitories in the wee hours of the morning. Girls who were especially cruel to their classmates had their darkest secrets dragged out into the light. Teachers who flouted their responsibilities were exposed--and in two cases, arrested, one for excessive violence and another for embezzlement. It has to be said that the Tribune did absolutely nothing to improve Sette's standing among her peers or elders, but she was resisting on her own terms and so had no regrets.
The atmosphere grew worse at the Conservatorium. The prevailing airs of suspicion and mistrust, the threats against Sette and her retaliatory counter-pranks, escalated steadily until everything came to a head with what is now known only as "The Meatloaf Incident"--an all-out fight in the cafeteria that sparked some unknown magical disaster, which destroyed two buildings and left the surrounding walls covered in gravy. Miraculously there were no deaths, but dozens of girls remain traumatized by the events of that day.
The faculty of St. Rundiment's acted swiftly in the wake of the Meatloaf Incident, swearing all witnesses to silence and quietly packing Sette off to Camp Bluegrass on the other side of the continent, where she would finally be somebody else's problem.
But Sette knows Camp Bluegrass will have more than its fair share of stories to tell, too. She only has to find them.
Really Pants fucked around with this message at May 16, 2018 around 20:05
|# ? May 16, 2018 19:58|
Go ahead and join the Discord, additional character creation terms have come up in there.
|# ? May 17, 2018 01:24|
PDF and Orokos
"This is foolish."
There is a subtle shift among the group of armored figures, men and women who had been slouched in their saddles perking up ever so slightly. They are not a large band, numbering only eight knights in gleaming full plate, but even this is an imposing sight for those they pass by. The effect is ruined somewhat by the lack of helmets, removed and hung on belts so the riders can enjoy a breeze on their face while the horses amble along at a leisurely pace.
All eyes are focused at the front two riders. To the right is an older man, brown hair just beginning to have streaks of gray and a serious face criss-crossed with wrinkles from a lifetime of scowling, shouting and furrowed brows. To the left is a boy that could have been childhood portrait of the older man, already adopting his own resting frown and scrunched up brow.
"Did you say something, initiate?" the older man asked, his voice low and threatening, not even turning to look.
"This has nothing to do with the order. Rank is of no consequence, father," the boy narrows his eyes, but also refuses to look, a small power play in this brewing argument.
Wordlessly, soundlessly, the rear riders begin exchanging coins as bets are settled.
"We are not discussing this again."
"Of course we aren't, we never discussed it at all. How could we discuss it again?"
"Clever wordplay is not going to change anything. You are staying at this camp for the campaign season, perhaps until the campaign is done."
The boy clenches his jaw, grinding his teeth in silence for a minute before resuming, "Do you not have... confidence, in me?"
The man sighs and rubs his temple, shaking his head slowly, "You know that isn't what this is about."
"Then what is it about?"
"This is a crusade. It is no place for children," he cuts off a protest with a sharp raise of his hand, "And you are still a child. Why not embrace it? Go be among your peers, make friendships. What do you think you're going to find on this battlefield that is so alluring? Are you wanting to prove yourself? Are you hoping to gain glory? Fame? Is there some bloodlust festering in your heart?"
The words are sharp, frustrated and the young man flinches and turns away. His voice is quiet when he responds, "Do you really see me as vain and bloodthirsty?"
"No, of course not. That was unwarranted, and I apologize. But I simply don't understand. No initiate is allowed on crusade. You know this. Why do you resist it so?"
The young man simply nods without turning his head back, "No, you were... You were right."
"Daren, look at me. Look at me.," the emphasis is enough to get Daren to look back at his father through the corner of his eyes, "I have tolerated this dissent with patience but I will not suffer lies. I have waited patiently for you to tell me what is troubling you, but if you start lying to me I will strip that sword off your belt."
Daren's hand instinctively goes to the hilt of his sword, a defensive instinct he can't control.
"I'm scared. There, the truth. Does it please you to hear it?"
"Scared? What are you afraid of? The camp?"
"The last time I was left behind, you came back and mother... didn't. Now I'm being left behind again, and I'm scared you won't come back either."
Daren's father reaches over and puts a hand on his son's shoulder, "I won't promise you that I will return. You know that isn't a promise for me to make. But since you shared truth with me, I will share truth with you: I am not fighting in this war for the Light, I'm fighting in it for you."
The young man's head snaps up, his eyes widened by shock at this revelation.
The older man continues, "You are everything to me, and I am proud of the man you are becoming. Knowing that I am protecting you, I would march into the gates of the hells themselves. That is my purpose. One day you will find a purpose too - but it isn't in textbooks or old men's sermons. But the only way you'll find it is by living - so go and live, make friends. Fall in love, have your heart broken, go on adventures and find what your purpose is. Do you find yourself equal to this task, initiate?"
Daren nods slowly and smiles, "I don't know if I understand... but I will do my best."
|# ? May 17, 2018 11:51|
Go ahead and join the Discord, additional character creation terms have come up in there.
The link in the OP doesn't work.
|# ? May 17, 2018 14:27|
|# ? May 26, 2018 02:13|
RyuHimora fucked around with this message at May 18, 2018 around 02:59
|# ? May 17, 2018 17:29|