|
|
#
?
Mar 14, 2019 20:33
|
|
|
|
| # ? Apr 24, 2024 03:40 |
|
|
Sucy Goddess of Mushrooms: Grimy Basement Boot Fight: 1d20 10
|
|
#
?
Mar 14, 2019 20:50
|
|
|
Overindulgence will be represented by a big + sign in dark blue.
|
|
#
?
Mar 14, 2019 20:53
|
|
|
Lovie, God of Ethics Am I A God?: 1d20 10
|
|
#
?
Mar 14, 2019 21:48
|
|
|
roll again, with smaller dice e: like, maybe dice the size of a penny
|
|
#
?
Mar 14, 2019 21:48
|
|
|
Pathos, God of Serenity Trying for godhood.: 1d100 18 Elemental Materials Books Ice Masks Steam Pepper
|
|
#
?
Mar 14, 2019 22:33
|
|
|
Aroch, God of Legacies Rolling to Manifest: 1d100 24 Elemental Materials -Blood -Flesh -Bone -Stone -Books
|
|
#
?
Mar 15, 2019 00:46
|
|
|
And the sign-ups are officially closed! Anyone else getting in at this point will have to be a Wisp until the next age where you can roll again. We intend to have the first "turn" up by Monday at the latest, and I hope you will not be disappointed. EDIT: sheep-dodger posted:Sucy Goddess of Mushrooms: Poltergrift posted:Lovie, God of Ethics Okay try rolling again and this time don't roll the exact same result. In fact let's roll a d1000 so that the chances of the same result for a 3rd time are tiny. TheNabster fucked around with this message at 01:09 on Mar 15, 2019 |
|
#
?
Mar 15, 2019 01:01
|
|
|
Jesus Christ, Seriously, Am I A God Or What: 1d1000 990
|
|
#
?
Mar 15, 2019 01:09
|
|
|
 With that Lovie, God of Ethics played by Poltergrift becomes our 5th God. And now we are mostly set.
|
|
#
?
Mar 15, 2019 01:16
|
|
|
 As the myriad host presses against the firmament, the shapeless landmass before you shifts under the outside influence of the Gods. Finally the shape of Els͙̹͓͖͞e̠̦̞w̻ḥ͍̠̹e̘͕ͅr̦e͖̹̣ ̴̫̻s̫͕͍e̠̣̣̱̲̥̰t҉̗̤̯̤t͈͓le̼̻̬s͉̟̝͇̹̪,͍͚͓̭̙̠̕ ̗͈͘a͓̬̤̞͍n̶̯d̸͔̦̥̟̟̭̫ ̞w̠̕i͕̪̘̞͉t͇̙̯̀h̘̣̘͉͚̘͓ ͕̳͈͈̲̙̥i̲͔͈̰̜̺t̬͚͜ ̨t̝͔̱̟h̖̘e҉̬̲̜̹̫ ̪̱͕̼͙͚gơd̥̣̠̼ͅs͕̹̗̖͕͉͞ ̶͖c̤̹̝̠̪̜a͕̟̮̭̱̪n͓̠̟̩̝̘̼ ̙f͇̟̤in̻̝͇͕̼͜al͙͘l̕ý͇̗ d̺͖̙͚̻̪͈è̬sc̸̗͉͙̜͖̜ę͖̭̝̙̲nͅḏ̠͢ ̦̱̻̼̣a͖̼̖͔͠n͕͖̠͠d͞-҉̱͚͇͙̲̬ͅ  … “You thought this was a story about Gods?” ... “Well how about I tell you the real story about Gods? The last one. The last story, the last God.  “The world of Elsewhere, as it was, whole, vast, unsullied, the Gods came and went and with them the world waxed and waned, grew and shrunk until it reached a perfect ideal pinnacle, a world of elements, vast and varied, a monument to the power of the Gods. And we thought we knew of Gods, knew the extent of their power and abilities. We thought we had mastery of the Ocean. “But The Great Leveling began with the birth of the Gestalt.”  “The Gestalt was, truly and utterly omnipotent to a degree not even our most fine tuned instruments could measure, a Beast of 27 parts when the most we had encountered in the past were Tripartite beings. Unfortunately for us, whilst the being itself was cosmically powerful it was also completely insane, the landscape writhed under its gaze, new elements were ripped from the ocean and slammed into the world haphazardly, creating an jagged and jigsawed landscape that grew further and further outwards as the god’s shattered psyche and random thought patterns carved great landscapes from the firmament and subsequently destroyed them in instants. “But it was the very last thing it attempted that truly spelled the end of our world.” “Come the fourth turn of the Age we prayed fervently for the death of this Mad God, for none of them had yet to survive past the age of their birth and we hoped this one would be no different even with its immense power. Oh how we hoped to see an end to this nightmare before that damned monstrosity was the death of us all. But the Beast seemingly aware of its own demise for the first time in its wretched, tortured existence concentrated its scattered power on one, singular action and attempted to survive its oncoming extinction the only way it knew how.” “It attempted a physical manifestation. And it failed disastrously.”  “Elsewhere was utterly annihilated. No other word could properly describe the result of the Gestalt’s last desperate gambit. In the fraction of a heartbeat, the elements winked out of existence and entire civilizations, that the Gods had spent so long carefully crafting vanished with it. And yet, somehow, something remained behind. The last few elements the Gestalt created somehow against the odds survived the Great Leveling.”  “And so within the ruins of our civilization, and in the wake of our demise we say this, to any that may find it. Our story is over, the Gods are dead, our great works lost to time and Elsewhere lies broken.” ... “And yet, it lives.”       “The Gods Are No More. But Elsewhere Remains, and in their place, we will forge new Gods.” -The Testament of the Last Mason, Recorded at an unknown date.
|
|
#
?
Mar 15, 2019 20:14
|
|
|
 THE CHOSEN Surprise! The Gods are all dead, and they have been dead for a long, long time. But now something else has arisen in their place. Not quite Gods, but more than Heroes, the Chosen are normal People filled with the power of the Ocean to become something greater than the sum of their parts. In mythological terms they could be akin to the likes of Siegfried, Gilgamesh or Sun Wukong. In Fragile Gods’ terms they are close to the likes of Quintzite or Verdelait (If you don’t know who these people are go read Fragile Gods of Somewhere, it’s a good LP). SO WHAT'S THE SAME? >Rolling Mechanics for Chosen are the same as rolling mechanics for Gods >You roll a d20, rolls below 11 will cause you to lose 1 HP. Higher numbers mean a more successful action. >Critical Successes (Rolling a natural 20) are good and will get you +1 to future rolls. >Critical Failures (Rolling a natural 1) are not so good and cause you to lose 2 HP. AND WHAT'S DIFFERENT? >Chosen have 4 HP instead of 3. The People are a little more robust than Gods, but the spark of divinity still carries its risks >Critical Successes for Chosen will allow them greater feats of Divinity. >Critical Failures that result in the death of a Chosen will transform them into an Abomination. These twisted agents of the Atrocities will seek to cause chaos and destruction until they are slain, all for the goal of accelerating the awakening of their fell masters. >*CHOSEN DO NOT AUTOMATICALLY DIE AT THE END OF AN AGE* >Chosen instead lose 1 HP at the end of every active age, but will not go below 1/4 HP. Even with the extended lifespan of a Hero, age will still slow a Chosen down and they possess a lifespan of three ages. >Instead of a Remnant, the Chosen develop a Legacy as they progress through the ages. As their power grows they’ll accrue powerful items, gather acolytes around them and potentially they can reach even greater heights of power. AND HOW DO I CHOSEN? >Start with a name of course! And a species, since you are still a Person of Elsewhere. Puns are not required but they are appreciated. (Note there is no set limit on the number Chosen for an individual species) >Next, choose a thing you are the Chosen of, this is your divine spark similar to a God’s giving you some limited supernatural abilities, ‘Miracles’ if you would. >Then pick three traits, one at Advanced and two at Basic. These are your character’s skills, and they will have an easier time doing things related to them than otherwise. >Describe your character, you don’t need reems and reams but it will define what you look like. >Finally draw your symbol, you can use the Symbol you drew previously or draw a brand new one. Name: Chuck, Chosen of Templates Species: Man Traits: Advanced Template Writing, Basic Proofreading, Basic Cooking Description: Chuck is a big man who wears a nice shirt. Chuck is also mostly made up for the purpose of this template and example. -O- Year 0 An extract from ‘The Collected Atlases of This Way’ Written by Docutus of Libaria Chapter 1: The Myriad Tribes of the Region of This Way of the World of Elsewhere.  Fig 1. A Choolainn warrior known more colloquially as a Roughmech, they make up a large portion of both the Baron’s manual labour force, and fighting strength armed with the large Hammers and Wrenches of their position. Fig 2. A typical Technik, although our knowledge of the beliefs of the Choolainn are limited due to their distrust of outsiders, what little we have gleaned is that they all operate under the mysterious Timetable. What this table is exactly we are not sure but the Techniks are the caste of mainly skilled tradesmen and foremen, second only to the Barons themselves. Fig 3. A Mailcoach, although conflict between the Baronies is near constant as they shrink and grow their territory Messengers under the Timetable are considered sacred and not to be touched, as such they are considered to be both couriers and diplomats and some rumours have proported that they even have the knowledge of strange arts that allow them to travel long distances quickly along Railley Lines Within the southern hinterlands of This Way, ringed by the mountains and criss-crossed by tracks come the stout and reckless peoples known only as The Choo-Choolainn. One of the more strange of the higher beings to have come about since the fall of the ‘Old World’, the disparate tribes of the Choolainn quarrel amongst themselves under the leadership of their Railway Barons, clashing over the rich Railium and Boiler Coal deposits in the rocky region, working hard, fighting harder and then drinking the hardest at the end of the day. The Choolainn are Rowdy, Hardworking and Stout people whose lands are mountainous and their people divided into separate Railway Baronies as they compete for space and resources. Their Culture is fairly Undeveloped and their Diplomatic ability is Poor due to their isolationist nature, but their military ability is Strong due to their constant minor skirmishes amongst themselves and their technology is Above Average. Their numbers are currently Average and their morale is also Buoyant, things have been going pretty well for them all things considered.  Fig 1. A Paladindex, the peoples of the Northern Islands seldom leave the islands, nor do any outsiders encroach upon them, but when they do it falls to the Order of the Paladindex to protect them, armed with Shield and Spear they are some of the most well equipped soldiers on the continent, to facilitate their low numbers. Fig 2. Two Encyclopi Scholars, The society of the Encyclopi is one that is currently divided between two schools of thought, the Dictionarians (pictured left) and the Thursauri (pictured right). The Dictionarians are the scholars of the physical, they are those who go out into the world to find clues about the ‘Old World’ of which this world came from and are frequently made up of historians, natural philosophers and emissaries. The Thursauri are by contrast are the scholars of the spiritual, delving the depths of elemental theory and the nature of the Ocean, their numbers include a large number of conceptual philosophers, theologians and mystics. Each side considers their side to be the only way that the mystery of the Old World can be unwrapped. Fig 3. A Spellbinder, the theory behind the magic of the elements is one that many Encyclopi have been trying to prove or disprove for years with not much success. But recently the philosopher Ambisinistrous introduced a way to take the magic of the ocean and ‘inscribe’ it into words of power, words that could control, prevent and restrain with the Aspect of Law. And thus Spellbinding was born. Amongst the scattered islands in the far north and hidden amongst the ruins of a civilization long since past comes our people The Encyclopi. Of the races of This Way it was we who found the Testament of the Last Mason, the largest piece of evidence that exists of the ‘Old World’ and the idea that the world that we live in currently is but a fragment of the world that was. And it was we who went out into the world to retrieve fragments of a history long since lost to us but overtime, we will begin to reconstruct the truth of what happened before our ascension. It would perhaps help if our neighbours were a little more co-operative in this venture. The Encyclopi are Logical, Learned and Lethargic more used to intellectual rigour than manual labour, their living situation mostly provided for by their fishing fleets and the remnants of Old World technology they could find. Their Culture is Developed but their Technology is Astounding as a result of their studious nature and their Diplomatic ability is Good, keeping on at least amenable terms with their neighbours. Their military ability however is Abysmal, aside from a scant few very rare Encyclopi strong enough to be capable of learning the ways of the Paladindex, most of them are not known for their physical capabilities. Their numbers are Few but steadily increasing over time, however their Morale is currently Anxious. There have been rumblings within the Ocean that the turn of the Century would bring the beginning of, something. What that something is has varied from seer to seer but whatever it, it will shake the foundations of the world at large.  Fig 1. A Leukocypher, all Hemogoblins are defined by their hunger for blood fluids from other animals to a degree, but some live a little closer to ‘The Beast’ than others and take their feedings a little too far. The Leukocyphers are the hunters of the swamps, armed with their curved Knives and dark cloaks they are responsible for tracking these miscreants down and, ensuring they don’t reoffend. Fig 2. A Shepheart, of the many advances made to benefit the races of the This Way, one that benefited the Hemogoblins the most was the invention of livestock herding, allowing many a Hemogoblin a much safer (and more acceptable) way of quenching their thirst. The Hemogoblin Shephearts as such have gained a reputation as some of the best tamers of beasts in the region, although they keep their secrets under wraps. Fig 3. A Visceromancer, of the myriad of magical arts that are active in This Way, none are quite as revered and yet feared as the Visceromancers. Capable of incredible healing arts and terrible curses apiece these mages provide healing to surrounding settlements for all who brave the swaps, for a price. And if you can’t pay now, they will collect payment later one way or another. In the deep Blood Swamps of the West, where the hot sauce rivers of the highlands meet the pungent blood lakes of the lowlands lies a land that for the longest time travellers have avoided at all costs, the lands of the Hemogoblins. Strange and amorphous beings with a passion for life in more ways than one, for the longest time they have prayed on the outlying settlements of their neighbours in the search for blood, but at the turn of the Century and the introduction of a few new ideas, the Hemogoblins have become much more hospitable to their immediate neighbours and it is hoped that this happy state can continue. With maybe just a few bumps on the road of progress. The Hemogoblins are Shrewd, Charismatic, and very occasionally Bloodthirsty. Literally. Their swampy lands and their sanguine diets do not allow much in the way of farming, but their grasp of animal husbandry and trading arrangements has allowed them a comfortable lifestyle, safer than the old way at least as decreed by the Most Sanguine Council. Their Culture and Technology are above average having grasped the idea of trade and animal husbandry amongst other things, and their Military ability is Good, the Scovilla and the Choo-Choolainn have learned in the past that you do not want to fight the Hemogoblin on their own grounds. Their Diplomatic ability is however Poor, some well meaning settlements have agreed to do trade with them yes but many still remember the days where they would come in the night to hunt, and allow them no further into their territories as a result. Their numbers are currently Plenty, in the advent of this new ‘herding’ means that not only has it become easier to find food but their neighbours have stopped actively trying to kill them. Morale is Mixed however, there are a few that chafe under the new rules and laws enforced by the Council and a flare up of minor disappearances have been causing strain with their neighbours.  Fig 1. A Pimentora, for most of the Scovilla nation there are no figure that defines the firey and adventurous nature of these people quite like the Pimentora. If not known for their razor sharp Thin Blades or their incredible dexterity, they are known for being the biggest braggers and boasters on the continent. Fig 2. An Ardercocer, the rolling flatlands of Central This Way fed by the Tabasco river are home to some of the most verdant farmland on the continent, and in this farmland the Ardercocer make their home. To be Ardercocer is to the backbone that keeps the nation fed, from their spices crop, to their fortified hot sauces, to even their spiced wines if it grows the Ardercocer will grow it and possibly even cook it. Fig 3. A Mariachili, it is said that Calientabasco the capital of the Scovilla nation was the very birthplace of music and nothing evidences this more than the Mariachili. For not only do they rank upon some of the finest musicians the world has ever known, they have learned to combine their music with magic to form the Picante Musica, the bardic schools of the Scovilla. Right at the heart of the continent lives a vibrant community that arose from the ashes of the Old World and across the flatlands of This Way to grow into some of the most personable people you could ever hope to meet, The Scovilla. The Scovilla nation is the melting pot of ideas, situated between many of the major nations of people in This Way all people that wished to travel have crossed through it at various points, and through cultural osmosis the Scovilla have adopted ideas from all over and in some cases put their own fiery twist on the proceedings. That’s not to say that in return they have not made major contributions of their own such as music; alcohol, cooking, commerce, theatre, art, creativity is not only in their works it is in their nature. The Scovilla are Passionate, Creative, and Hot-Tempered. Between their cosmopolitan settlements and their verdant rolling farmlands at the heart of the continent the Scovilla Nation has situated itself as the place where things happen in the eyes of many people. They might not be good things but they’ll be blasting full of the pomp and circumstance that these people are known for. Their Diplomacy is Great and their Culture is Exemplary, however their Technology and Military are considered Below Average for the area, often relying on careful negotiations and trading arrangements to maintain their borders in place of military might. Their population is Thriving and their Morale is High, the turn of the century is here and a huge party is being thrown in celebration, in their minds nothing could spoil the festivities at this point.  Fig 1. A Coulombatant, very little is known about the Ohmians and their strange ‘Path of Least Resistance’ that they follow, but when initial first contact between the Choolainn and the Ohmians turned hostile, stories of these monks and their strange Martial Arts routing the Roughmechs quickly spread across the continent. Fig 2. An Ohmian Magnate, these are the closest beings we could identify to ‘leaders’ within the Ohmian Collective, but their role in their society seems to be closer to that of an ordained priest or a sage than to a king or an elected minister. Fig 3. A Gausserer, even with what little information we have the powers of the Gausserer are something that no other magic caster has seen on this continent, for it is a destructive and dangerous kind of magic that has only been witnessed a few times before. But when pressed Gausserer’s are under strict ordinances to only use the style in self defense or the defense of others. Of all the races of This Way at large none are as alien and unusual as the Ohmian Collective. The last of the five sentient races to appear on the continent the actual origins of these people are a mystery even to us but most likely theory is that they were a mostly subterranean race before they breached the surface world at large, evidenced by the home within the great mountain at the heart of the continent. Only three facts are known about the Omnians from the time of writing, one they all follow a spiritual philosophy known only as ‘The Path of Least Resistance’ a pacifist philosophy focused on self improvement, avoiding conflict where possible, and co-existing with other beings, two they seem all to be connected by a sort of hive mind allowing wordless communication between themselves but not outsiders (they have learned to talk the common cant however) and three they seem to be almost entirely non-organic leading to questions as to how more Ohmians are made. Ohmians are a Connected, Peaceful and Curious people. The level of culture expressed by the collective is High but their technology levels are Low, although this may be more because they live a Frugal and Spartan existence as per the tenets of their path. They maintain Good diplomatic relationships with their neighbours by being on the whole no trouble to anyone, but their Military is Above Average, small in number as they might between their mountain monastery and their dangerous and esoteric arts, the Ohmians can be highly dangerous if challenged. Their population is Tiny, at least it is visibly on the outside, perhaps there is more to the Collective than you can see on the surface and their Morale is Stable. As stable as it can be when it is almost impossible to get a read on beings who don’t seem to be capable of expressing emotion without effort, although they do make an attempt. TheNabster fucked around with this message at 22:06 on Apr 24, 2019 |
|
#
?
Mar 15, 2019 20:19
|
|
|
Name: Sara Vellum, Chosen of Curiosity Species: Encyclopi Traits: Advanced Archiveology, Basic Pagentry, Basic Wordsmithing Description: Female Dictionarian Page, Though lithe, she is usually seen in the flowing red Cover-alls of her station. She is part of the retinue of the wandering Knight-Errata, [Aj Impy's Character, as discussed on Discord.] Where she preforms all the basic camp and gear maintenance her lord requires for his quest, not to mention writing down everything that happens and poking the things her lord is too important to poke at, or too busy to notice. 
|
|
#
?
Mar 15, 2019 22:23
|
|
|
Name:Don Keynoté, The Manuscript of La Manual, Chosen of Lost Causes Species:Encyclopi Traits: Advanced Papercutting, Basic Wordsmithing, Basic Bookbinding Description: A hefty tome by any standards, Don Keynoté is of the order of the Paladindex, a Knight-Errata venturing out into the wider world with his trusty Page, Sara Vellum, seeking to correct the mistakes of the past and make right the wrongs they find along the way. Clad in finely engraved Bookplate, his trusty spear and shield at the ready, his mastery of Papercutting able to put them to devastating use. His proficiency with Bookbinding comes in handy for mending tears and unfolding corners along the way. 
|
|
#
?
Mar 15, 2019 23:10
|
|
|
Name: Mikado Type, Chosen of Maintenance Species: Choo-Choolainn Traits: Advanced Engineering, Basic Doomsaying, Basic Big And Tough Description: Among the Choolainn, none are quite so neurotic as Mikado Type (Mike to her friends (she has no friends)), a Technik employed under the Railway Baron Anorak as a smith; her large frame reflects a physical power that her terrible posture and baggy clothing conceals. Always forward-thinking, Baron Anorak has been experimenting with rare foreign Materials in constructing weapons for the next generation of warfare -- hyper-distilled Pepper juices, records of the Old World "acquired" from the Encyclopi, and magnets for experiments in reverse-engineering Gausserer sorcery (to little success as of yet). Mikado is one of his chief engineers. Mikado sometimes feels like the only Person who remembers the Old World (per Encyclopi scholarship) was destroyed by Meddling With Powers Beyond The Peoples' Reach (or so she suspects); she's worried that Anorak's experimentation is going to destroy, if not literally the entire world, then certainly the portion of it where she's standing. Not to mention all the other things that could potentially destroy civilization. Her aspiration to Anorak's position as Railway Baron is, she tells herself, independent of personal ambition, and arises entirely from her desire to preserve the Choo-Choolainn from total destruction at their own hands. It might even be true. 
Poltergrift fucked around with this message at 01:17 on Mar 16, 2019 |
|
#
?
Mar 16, 2019 01:06
|
|
|
Name: Farrow, Chosen of Change Species: Ohmian Traits: Advanced Gaussery: "I remain charged, but the spark is gone." Basic Polarization: "The Magnate art of thoughtcraft, of making your ideas take hold in others and becoming unassailable. I am pleased to see their teachings transfer to fleshling speech." Basic Murder: "Ever since the experiment, I've been seized by urges. I could resist them, easily, but why would I?" Description: A primitive experiment into the nature of soulenoids, the seat of Ohmian thought, went horribly wrong. Farrow now has Reversed Polarity. He is Disconnected, Violent, and Incurious. He eschews the acetic nature of his people, choosing to dress in extravagant clothes with an equally large and ostentatious hat. The Gausserer enjoys the blessed silence his condition brings, but has lost all passion for his once beloved art. There is only ambition now. Keen observers will notice that the red and blue trim of his body is reversed compared to other Ohmians. He also has a vaguely sinister long, but thin beard made out of metal filings stuck to his face. 
paper bag with a face fucked around with this message at 01:54 on Mar 16, 2019 |
|
#
?
Mar 16, 2019 01:11
|
|
|
Edit: Apologies. I misunderstood and thought anyone could join but it's only the people who had a successful god roll.
Apocron fucked around with this message at 03:50 on Mar 16, 2019 |
|
#
?
Mar 16, 2019 03:14
|
|
|
Barbed Tongues has unfortunately informed me that they have a lot more on their plate than they anticipated and cannot take part in the first age of Broken Gods. With that in mind I would like to do two things 1) He offered to give his position to sheep-dodger instead being that they were the 6th place candidate, and I see no reason not to do this. 2) I would like to offer him +10 Wisp points in compensation. It's only fair after successfully rolling to get in only to have to give your place up due to unforeseen circumstances. So currently the final roster for the First Age looks something like this. Swedish Thaumocracy - Sara Vellum, Chosen of Curiosity - Encyclopi AJ_Impy – Don Keynoté, The Manuscript of La Manual, Chosen of Lost Causes - Encyclopi Paper bag with a face – Farrow, Chosen of Change - Ohmian Poltergrift – Mikado Type, Chosen of Maintenance - Choo-Choolainn sheep-dodger – ???
|
|
#
?
Mar 16, 2019 12:11
|
|
|
Name: Salsa Roja, Chosen of Dance Species: Scovilla Marichilli Traits: Advanced Dance, Basic Sway, Basic Teaching Salsa spent her childhood growing up with a travelling troupe of Mariachilis. Much to her annoyance however, she possessed very little talent for the musical instruments her family was mastering with such ease, and much less for the magic of Picante Musica. Never one to be put off though, she threw herself into developing her dance moves with all the energy that was so characteristic of her people. Within Scovilla society, Dance took a clearly secondary position to Music, Poetry and Song, as the establishment at Calientabasco had dominated tastes for so long, and Salsa aimed to change that. So upon reaching majority it was no surprise to her family when she grabbed her castanets, shoes and dress and set off to see the world and convince them to dance with her. 
|
|
#
?
Mar 17, 2019 17:59
|
|
|
The year is 100 PGL (Post Great Leveling), all across Elsewhere the people count in the new year with anticipation for many and trepidation for some. A whole one hundred years have passed since their world was destroyed in that great cataclysm of the now ancient past and a hundred years since their society has started anew, crawling from the scavenging beasts to People of today. A cause to celebrate for certain, as all across Elsewhere the hardy peoples of This Way from the bookish Encyclopi to the north to the rowdy Choo-Choolainn to the south for these few busy hours revel in overcoming the odds and thriving amongst the ruins. Break out the spiced wine, it’s time for a party! And yet unbeknownst to all, beyond the sight all but the most astute augurs the wheels of history have begun to turn in earnest. A plan millenia in the making comes to a head as for the first time in years, new pieces are placed upon the board in the Game of Gods.   Sara Vellum, Chosen of Curiosity   Don Keynoté, The Manuscript of La Manual, Chosen of Lost Causes   Mikado Type, Chosen of Maintenance   Farrow, Chosen of Change   Salsa Roja, Chosen of Dance Let the games begin. -0-   In the Blood Marshes of the west after the excitement of the new year it’s business as usual for the Hemogoblins, the new usual that is not the old usual. The new influx of goods to and from the swamp as trade starts to pick up is helping to pay for a lot of infrastructure that wasn’t needed before. After all suddenly the difficult to traverse terrain that had shielded them from the outside started to become a hindrance rather than a help, new settlements are being built closer to the border, more permanent pathways are being driven through the swamp but their technology is otherwise limiting their ability to make this necessary work happen faster than its current Srail’s pace. And at all times beneath the surface the rumblings are those who followed the old ways, quietly seething as more and more influence from the outside penetrates their lands and encroaches on their territories. Rumours The Settlement of Choleric is having some issues with dangerous Flora attacking the trade coaches from the Scovilla nation, workers have been sent to trim them but not all of them have come back. Counselor Albuman has not turned up to the Most Sanguine Council meetings recently, and his settlement has not been sending its Blood Tithes either. Yet people have been seen coming and going from the settlement without much issue. A mine in Glucosa among the border with the Ohmian Collective breached into some sort of Old World bunker, they don’t have the means to send a proper exploration down it but it’s only a matter of time before someone organizes an effort.   Within the debate halls of Libaria and across the small islands that make up the tribes of the Encyclopi a burning question that had been circulating since the approach of the New Year rages on. “Why are the Wisps increasing in number?” There are no stars within Elsewhere, the glints of dots on the horizon above are said to be the Wisps of the Ocean pressed against the barrier around the world. But they’ve been growing greatly in numbers lately and no one, not even the those whose life is to observe the ocean can explain this. Almost seemingly coinciding with this more storms have been blowing in from the Ocean, causing many issues with the fishing fleets and coastal settlements as the weather becomes more inclement overtime, as the reasoning, arguments and counter-arguments go back and forth between the factions of the Encyclopi as more and more discoveries about the Old World are being made every day. Rumours An experiment in magic within Libaria went wrong recently and a selection of magically enhanced animals are currently loose within the city. The council wishes for them to be found before whatever half-baked enchantments inscribed onto them cause a problem. The fishing caranovella the ‘Literally Unsinkable’ has found itself shipwrecked off the coast of the Hemogoblin Blood Swamps. Recent storm surges have prevented the Encyclopi from sending vessels to retrieve them, meaning a rescue mission by land is the only option available to them. A Dictionarian Scholar has found himself caught up in a legal matter in the local Scovilla territory after he was imprisoned for digging into privately owned land. Efforts to extradite him are being stifled by noble in question dragging his heels on the matter for reasons unknown   After having spent so long hidden from the world at large, the Ohmians have been making their presence felt in the world at large in little ways. After the new year had attracted a lot of Ohmians to the other Tribes of This Way, a few of them have decided to stay amongst their new neighbours rather than return to the mountains. And this has led itself to a rather unusual problem for the Collective at large, namely that now the Ohmians that are returning from these new settlements outside of the Monastery of Tru-Northpole are coming back mimicking the foreign culture of their neighbours. And this has made it difficult for them to integrate back into the Collective, a slight dissonance is in the air and this is an experience even the august Sages of the Path of Least Resistance have no immediate answers to at the moment. After all is an Ohmian still an Ohmian if they are separate from the Collective? Rumours Relationships between the Ohmians and the Choo-Choolainn have always been a bit tense ever since first contact between the two ended in a fight, but now a well meaning Omnian Magnate is attempting to rebuild bridges between the two peoples. A small Ohmian settlement within the Scovilla nation has recently been experimenting with this ‘music’ thing that the Pepper People are so fond of. It’s in its early days but it is sound is nothing like anything that has been heard in This Way, and it’s attracted the attention of the Bardic Colleges. A group of Ohmian pilgrims are setting off from the mountain intending to study at the great colleges of the Encyclopi in the north, however this is meeting some resistance from some of the Book People who do not wish for other races to learn some of their closely kept secrets.   Now that the party is over and the festivities have been cleaned up, it’s back to work for the sons and daughters of the Pepper. Planting season is quite possibly the most important season in the Scovilla calendar behind harvest season as the Spice Wine growers and the Peppercorn crop farmers begin their preparations and the Ardercocers reach out across the Scovilla nation and beyond for hired hands to assist with the farming. The seasons wait for no one after all and more than ever Scovilla has a need to feed and provide for its people. For the nation has been recently receiving a large influx of Peoples from across This Way; Encylopi Dictionarians wishes for a change of scenery from the islands, curious Ohmian conclaves popping up in various cities and integrating themselves into society, even some of the Choo-Choolainn have been coming down from the Hinterlands to find steady work in the farmlands that doesn’t involve the threat of conflict overhead. Only the Hemogoblins have yet to find traction within Scovilla the outlying settlements have been rather firm on that score, some bad blood doesn’t wash out so easily. Rumours The Los Cacopeno has struck again! The dastardly Pimentora thief who has managed to evade the authorities multiple time made off with a valuable Blood Ruby crown that was to be gifted to the Belle Pepper of a wealthy noble, much to his consternation. A hefty award is offered for their capture. The Picante Musica is holding its annual ‘Battle of the Bandoleros’ within the city of Cincospice, welcoming all-comers and potential recruits to the Bardic Colleges, and this year has a number of Non-Scovilla contestants joining the competition. A pair of Scovilla have gone missing in the small village of Peppadew near the Hemogoblin border and the locals are quickly pinning the blame on the recent Hemogoblin Caravan that had stayed the night, but the trader proclaims his innocence. The local landlord wishes the matter resolved before someone does something stupid.   War it has been said, never changes within the southern hinterlands of the Choo-Choolainn but whilst very poignant this is not entirely correct. For the longest time the Choo-Choolainn have looked to attempts by outsiders to try and influence their long standing feud against each other as some sort of affront on their business. However, as technology moves on across the world and a younger generation of Choolainn are starting to make themselves known this insulated attitude is slowly being worn down. It started after a few of the western Railway Barons began accepting the trade Caravans of the Hemogoblins into their lands and in return gained some new weaponry in their conflict against their neighbours. Since then the pounding refineries and extensive mines of the Choo-Choolainn have been doing business with their northern neighbours and the baronies in turn have been stockpiling their arms, filling their warchests and calling in old alliances. Now it’s only a matter of time before one of the Baronies makes a claim for the whole hinterlands, then all heck will break loose. Rumours The Eckspress Clan mines have uncovered some sort of Old World refinery built into the mountain, and have quickly attracted adventurers from all over. Unfortunately it seems to filled with all sorts of weird and dangerous security measures making plumbing its riches all but impossible. An aged Railway Baron has died, and now his two sons are butting head over who should lead their clan in his absence. The clan isn’t much known for their military but they have some of the best Technik smiths in the land, and outside clans are quietly pledging support to one side or the other hoping to secure an alliance. An incredibly dangerous beast of Choolainn legend known only as a Bookender has made its lair in an abandoned mining camp in the mountains, and now it has been causing problem for the lower settlements. No one has successfully been able to force the beast to leave yet. -0- A few OOC notes before we begin.
TheNabster fucked around with this message at 10:39 on Mar 18, 2019 |
|
#
?
Mar 18, 2019 10:34
|
|
|
Don Keynoté, The Manuscript of La Manual, Chosen of Lost Causes, 4/4 Thwack! The mighty penspear sliced through the hanging veins and the dense fronds of the artertrees, allowing its wielder to advance a little further into this untrammelled section of the Blood Marshes. It was the duty of the Knights-Errata to set right what was wrong and to lend aid wherever it was needed (though some said, darkly, even where such help was unwanted). As such, the bold Paladindex Don Keynoté and his insightful, highly observant Page Sara Vellum found themselves hopefully making progress towards the foundered wreck of the Literally Unsinkable, and whatever survivors could possibly still be there. The only sign of civilisation they had passed in recent memory had been a clottage on the edge of the wild, dense terrain, whose kindly inhabitants had wished them well but could not furnish a guide.They were in uncharted territory,, something else they sought to fix. Find that which is lost and hopeless in the Blood Marshes, including the Literally Unsinkable: 1d20 9
|
|
#
?
Mar 18, 2019 15:08
|
|
|
+1 Don Keynoté Wisp Points: 0 -> 1 Wisps remaining: +, 0, -, -
|
|
#
?
Mar 18, 2019 15:16
|
|
|
Sara Vellum, Chosen of Curiosity. Advanced Archiveology, Basic Pagentry, Basic Wordsmithing 4/4 Sara Vellum followed closely behind Don Keynoté, busying herself with preserving bits and pieces of the marsh flora, that her eagre companion has just cut to bits, inside of herself. The whole process would be mildly disturbing to an outsider, at least one who was not familiar with the delicate bibliobiology involved, for to that untrained eye it looked very much like she was randomly stuffing garbage into her chest when in actual fact she was stuffing very specific garbage into her chest in order to absorb their aroma of knowledge into her lexica herbology. Advanced Archiving to learn about the Blood Marsh: 1d20 = 6 She was having a hard time of it though, owing to the moistness of the swamp and the peril of their journey and found herself too easily distracted to get any solid work done. "Don Keynoté, ser, not much is Written off these Swamps, to my dismay, what do you think we will find out there? Do you truly think the winds and waves are responsible for the wreck, or is there something more sinister abook?"
|
|
#
?
Mar 18, 2019 15:44
|
|
|
Don Keynoté Swedish Thaumocracy posted:
The Paladindex paused for a moment, his eye focusing on his speartip as he focused his thoughts. "It is said that there are many strange and savage creatures out here, things that could leech the ink right off your paper. Like, er, leeches. Or vicious, antlered, territorial Hart-beest bucks, with their distinctive two-part sound of approach. And that's just on the journey! As for the wreck itself, we have to hope that some folk survived, preferably all of them, and they can tell us themselves. But if all we find are cracked spines and sodden, shredded tatters... We'll need to work it out from first principles in their memory."
|
|
#
?
Mar 18, 2019 16:02
|
|
|
+1 Sara Vellum Wisp Points: 0 -> 1 Wisps remaining: +, 0, -, - Mors Rattus fucked around with this message at 17:21 on Mar 18, 2019 |
|
#
?
Mar 18, 2019 17:03
|
|
|
+1 to Don Keynoté Wispings: 1 Remaining: + - - Abstain
|
|
#
?
Mar 18, 2019 17:54
|
|
|
Wispings: 1 Remaining: + + - Abstain We must clear out as many Chosen as possible to make room for people next Age. Theantero fucked around with this message at 03:02 on Mar 19, 2019 |
|
#
?
Mar 18, 2019 18:24
|
|
|
+1 to Don Keynoté Wispings: 1 Remaining: + - - Abstain Klungar fucked around with this message at 18:41 on Mar 18, 2019 |
|
#
?
Mar 18, 2019 18:29
|
|
|
+1 to Don Keynoté Wispings: 1 Remaining: + - - Abstain
|
|
#
?
Mar 18, 2019 18:30
|
|
|
Klungar posted:+1 to Don Keynoté Only one vote per turn Klungar.
|
|
#
?
Mar 18, 2019 18:40
|
|
|
+1 Salsa! Whispings: 1 Remaining: +-- abstain
|
|
#
?
Mar 18, 2019 21:59
|
|
|
Salsa Roja, Chosen of Dance When Salsa first heard of the arrival of the Ohmians in Scovilla society, she was absent-mindedly perusing the wares on the local market while listening in to the local rumour mill grinding the peppercorns of truth into ever finer bits. She had been thinking for a few days about maybe entering the Battle of the Bandoleros only to publically refuse the Bardic colleges if she managed to win, but this sounded like a much more exciting opportunity to expand her repertoire. Listening in further to the discussion, she found out that the village was named Ørstadt and located not too far from Dopiazza. If she hurried she might still find a wagon that would take her most of the way there. ------ A day and a half later she found herself at the outskirts of Ørstadt, both nervous and exhilarated. What would Ohmian music sound like? How would she dance to it? Would the anatomy work out between Scovillans and Ohmians? The traders and farmers she had hitched rides with hadn't known too much useful about them either, so this would be a real adventure. Salsa steeled her resolve. She would go to the centre of town and let her ears guide her to where they were trying out their music. From there the rest would have to develop naturally. Advanced Dance to bring Dance to the Ohmians: 1d20 6
|
|
#
?
Mar 18, 2019 23:12
|
|
|
+1 Salsa Wispings: 1 Remaining: +, -, -, Abstain
|
|
#
?
Mar 18, 2019 23:15
|
|
|
+1 Salsa Wispings: 1 Remaining: + - - Abstain
|
|
#
?
Mar 18, 2019 23:16
|
|
|
+1 Salsa Wispings: 1 Reamining + - - Abstain
|
|
#
?
Mar 18, 2019 23:32
|
|
|
+1 to Salsa Wispings: 1 Remaining: -, -, 0, +
|
|
#
?
Mar 18, 2019 23:50
|
|
|
Mikado Type, Chosen of Maintenance Advanced Engineering, Basic Doomsaying, Basic Big and Tough Of course. Of course Baron Anorak would throw his support behind the first sad little clanlet to get its mitts on Old World anything. Mikado could've almost tolerated the Eckspressii having their hands on potentially cataclysmic Old World science, considering their relative size and lack of interest in warfare, but the bastards had to open it up to the public, meaning any genius capable of breaching their defenses with enough bodies might end up screwing over civilization just because they didn't have the sense to aim their superweapon at the sky instead of other People. Though pointing it at the sky might also end up annihilating civilization by dusting the world with ground-up foreign Materials or something. Mikado naturally insisted on accompanying the assessment team: no competent coward would, given the risk of setting off an existential threat, try to run away from the device, considering its potential blast radius wasn't really finite. It took a certain amount of cajoling Baron Anorak, who was loath to surrender her to a death trap. "Type," he'd said, frowning and absently playing with his magnetic ball toy -- some kind of souvenir from Ohmian lands. "Type, and I know this is real difficult for you, but take me seriously when I ask you this: is disarming tripwires and buzzsaws really the best use for yer talents? As opposed to, say, making very sure our haul won't blow any holes in anyone we don't want holes blown in?" "Baron Anorak, begging your pardon," said Mikado, "This is not only the best use of my talents, it's the only justifiable use of my talents. And also anyone's, anywhere, considering the hazards to all life and limb, but since none of the blaggards you've got know existential threats from a nice day in the park, it'll have to be my talents I'm using." "Then I'll thank you to return with a profit, as a little aperitif for whatever safety you feel you're winnin' me." So Mikado accompanied the Baron's team into the vault, and fretted over her tools and notes while they sang a traditional Eckspressii war/drinking song. And she did examine and disarm every trap and piece of security she could, as obscure as they were. But her aim wasn't to disable the things. As looney as the Old World's People might've been, they wouldn't have built one of their own facilities as an actual deathtrap; deathtrap-type functionality just meant the place was breaking. Sure, none of them knew precisely how to fix a broken Old World anything, but she could at least imagine how it was meant to look when it wasn't killing folks. Hence her maintenance work. That's what she told the Baron's party, anyway. More important than that by far, in her estimate, was installing locks and safeguards, barring threatening-looking doors, gently taking apart anything that looked like it might end in a Person-facing murder implement while strictly refraining from smashing anything potentially explosive -- peacebonding the place, in other words. Maintaining and Disarming the Refinery: 1d20 1 If she didn't get killed in the attempt, anyway. Poltergrift fucked around with this message at 02:08 on Mar 19, 2019 |
|
#
?
Mar 19, 2019 00:51
|
|
|
I hope critical failures are a thing in this game, I always enjoyed those. Will Mikado end up accidentally setting up more deathtraps? +1 to Don Keynoté Wispings: 1 Remaining: + - - Abstain
|
|
#
?
Mar 19, 2019 01:03
|
|
|
+1 to Mikado Wispings: 1 Remaining: -, -, 0, +
|
|
#
?
Mar 19, 2019 01:56
|
|
|
|
| # ? Apr 24, 2024 03:40 |
|
|
I like your moxie, kid.  Wispings: 1 Remaining: -, -, 0, + Podima fucked around with this message at 16:43 on Mar 19, 2019 |
|
#
?
Mar 19, 2019 02:05
|
|
