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Tricky Dick Nixon
Jul 26, 2010

by Nyc_Tattoo
It usually starts with something small.

You get sticky fingers, tell a white lie, break something (or hurt someone) that didn't deserve it, fudge the numbers a bit... We're all sinners. But not everyone is a rascal like you. Might be for a lack of conscience or prospects, or an overabundance of confidence or debt. Something pushed you to go one step further. Even then, this is Duskwall. In the twilight hours, common criminals crop up like fungal caps on the underside of the city's underbelly, blooming under the moon and its sisters. You're no common criminal, are you? You're cut from a different cloth.

It's by hairs that you separate yourself from the sinners, and rascals, little bits of meaning and panache that make you a scoundrel, a daring anti-hero of the streets.

You know what they say...

In for a penny, in for a pound.




In for a Pound will be a Blades in the Dark game for 4-6 players who take on the role of a crew of scoundrels in the dark industrial fantasy city of Doskvol. Starting from the streets with little to their name other than their wits and cunning, you will have the opportunity to carve a permanent place in the Underworld, or perhaps realize greater ambitions beyond.

This is a hybrid Play-by-Post/Discord game (follow this link for the Discord) where primarily the story will be advanced here in the thread but we will use Discord often for individual scenes as time allows, either at scheduled dates or asynchronously, sensitive to each player’s schedule, capacity, and time zone. Updates from myself as the Storyteller should be counted on weekly as a general guideline, and I’ll expect the same of my players.

Most games I run tend to have a strong narrative core they are going for, but for this game, I want to experiment with having it be, if not entirely open-ended, mostly player-driven. Despite the specificity of the game's setting, that setting itself encompasses a tremendous amount of possibilities: Street warfare. Secret societies. Noble intrigue. Ghosts and demons. Train heists. Tomb robbing.

This will be thus rather relaxed and casual as far as my expectations from my players. The core of what I want to explore is the central conceits of crime fiction: Trust and betrayal. Debt and vice. Risk and reward. I want to center on the character's motivations since the setting is rich enough to stand on its own without my editorializing it overmuch. Instead, it will exist to react and build around the players and their actions.

Blades is a game that adapts well to those who are less experienced with it as well, so don't feel obligated to have much knowledge of the system or the setting. We will develop the feel and character of Duskwall together, and you can find everything you need mechanically in the free Player Kit. Likewise, you can find this helpful comprehensive playlist that goes over the core mechanics of the game.



I intend to start the game proper in early September, giving plenty of breathing room right now for folks to become interested and for us to decide what exactly we want the game to be. For that reason, there'll be three "deadlines" as opposed to one.

First, I want to get from people "thumbnails" of their character concept. Names, looks, maybe a picture, as well as a couple of lines about their "schtick" and hooks, and what Playbook you're interested in. Likewise, let me know what Crew Playbook you are interested in. Essentially that will be chosen by a vote of the thread, ending on August 18th.

Once it's clear what kind of Crew we are running (which can sometimes limit specific character concepts), that's a chance for everyone to fully flesh out their character concepts and sheets per the usual character creation process. Likewise, I'll solicit from people on here and Discord what exactly they want from the game, and our particular flavor of Duskwall. I've given the particular themes I want to focus on: "Risk and reward", "debts and vice", "trust and betrayal." By August 25th, I will select up to six players from those applied.

Once we've selected a group of players, I'll have some follow-up questions and we'll determine some background and history between them. This will include setup for the first score that the crew undertakes, which we will start in-media-res in the in-game thread proper.

Guidelines for Selection: While Blades in the Dark explicitly allows duplicate playbook entries, I will likely not be doing this. After that consideration, I will select the characters I feel have the most interesting motivations that will compel them to bold and daring crimes. Those who have a clear and defined vice and purveyor of that vice will stand out, whether related to their central motivation or not. From this core group of motivated and vice-ridden scoundrels, I will winnow it down based on first their compatibility with others. Team-players will stick out, though I will often mix those that cause some tension as well. Last major aspect considered will be story hooks provided in the background, heritage, and other parts of the application that jump out at me.

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Tricky Dick Nixon
Jul 26, 2010

by Nyc_Tattoo
See below for a very basic example character sheet. We will be using Roll20 for character sheets and rolling once the game begins, so this is just a placeholder for mechanics in your application, when it becomes necessary.



Name:
Alias:
Archetype:
Look:
Heritage:
Background:
Vice / Purveyor:

Insight
Hunt
Study
Survey
Tinker

Prowess
Finesse
Prowl
Skirmish
Wreck

Resolve
Attune
Command
Consort
Sway

Special Abilities
  • Example: Mechanics.

Friends
▲ An ally.
▼ A rival.

Heliotrope
Aug 17, 2007

You're fucking subhuman


Name: Hira Gadhavi
Alias: Crow
Archetype: Slide
Look: Ambigious; Calm, Dark, Scarred; Long Coat, Long Scarf, Soft Boots
Heritage: Iruvia, member of the lower class who worked their way up [Finesse]
Background: Academic, Scholar for the royal house of Anixis) [Study]
Vice / Purveyor: Luxury (Taffer, smuggler and cultist. Hira buys various trinkets and decorations from him.)

Insight ••
Hunt
Study •
Survey •
Tinker

Prowess
Finesse •
Prowl
Skirmish
Wreck

Resolve ••
Attune
Command
Consort ••
Sway ••

Special Abilities
  • Like Looking into a Mirror: You can always tell when someone is lying to you.

Friends
▲ Klyra, a tavern owner. Hira often pays Klrya for her help in finding good opportunties, customers, and dealing with the social standing of the crew.
▼ Bazso Baz, a gang leader. Hira has helped out the Red Sashes in their fight against the Lampblacks, due to good money paid and a bit of loyalty to fellow Iruvians.

Growing up as a member of the poor class in Iruvia, Hira desired to be like those at top. They worked hard and studied harder, learning an education and eventually gaining employment in the royal house of Anixis, the noble house aligned with the Demon Prince Ixis (prince of shadow, dealing in deception and trickery). They worked for the house but once they realized they would never be able to live like the royalty, pulled a quick heist and stole what they could to set up a new life elsewhere. Hira barely made it to Doskvol and none of their remaining family or friends survived to be with them. A long way from home, recovering from grievous injuries, and trying to adjust to a new life in Doskvol, Hira has put their lot in with the criminals and hopes to get enough to get the lifestyle they so want before either the life or anyone sent by Anixis catches up to them.

For crew, I'd prefer Hawkers, Shadows, or Smugglers; would be fine with Assassins or Bravos; and don't want a Cult.



Heliotrope fucked around with this message at 06:42 on Aug 16, 2019

Tricky
Jun 12, 2007

after a great meal i like to lie on the ground and feel like garbage




Name: Elizabeth Strangford
Alias: Cosette
Archetype: Spider
Look: Woman; Brooding, Lovely, Stern; Fitted Suit, Long Coat, Soft Boots
Heritage: Akoros (Born to an old Duskvol family)
Background: Noble (Youngest and overlooked daughter of Lord Strangford)
Vice / Purveyor: Luxury/Weird •• (Leclure, the purveyor of fineries and fortune telling who is alleged to be haunted by a drowned lover; Nightmarket)

Insight ••
Hunt
Study •
Survey •
Tinker

Prowess ••
Finesse •
Prowl •
Skirmish
Wreck

Resolve ••
Attune •
Command
Consort ••
Sway

Special Abilities
  • Ghost Contract: When you shake on a deal, you and your partner—human or otherwise—both bear a mark of your oath. If either breaks the contract, they take level 3 harm, "Cursed".
Friends
▲ Salia, an information broker. One of Cosette's first underworld contacts. The two have an understanding, shared respect, and a ghostly contract ensuring mutual gain.
▼ Riven, a chemist. Likely either burned in an early score, as the heat on the goods proved too much, or a would-be magnate that doesn't much care for deliveries to the competition.

Backstory

In the rarified air overlooking Charhollow, all know Lord Strangford. Admiral of the hunting fleets. City councilman. Well connected, well respected. Of course, that's only a fragment of the story. To those of his blood, he's quite a bit more complex. Elizabeth, his youngest daughter, has cottoned on that there's something dark lurking within. There have been disappearances in the staff, slowly but surely, for months now. She knows it to be related to the Church of Ecstasy, for the disappearances always come before Lord Strangford retires to some event or another with his comrades in faith.

Elizabeth is rather quick-witted, of course, and has projected these disappearances taking quite a dark path. If it's simply blood sacrifice, she'll be safe enough until the estate is devoid of all servants and the like... though she's not sure that's the case. Given the patterns in the disappearances, they've all shared some commonalities with Lord Strangford. Hair color, build, and things too minute to be a coincidence. This leads to a conclusion: sooner or later, he'll require a blood relation. Perhaps multiple. In the Strangford estate, her brothers and sisters tend towards indolence and self-gratification, but she's never been a favored scion. If it is some sort of ritual, the risk is unacceptably high.

Enter her side-business. Along with some other like-minded scoundrels she found through Salia's rather extensive information network, they've begun the first steps into developing a smuggling network. It's a brilliant plan, should you ask Elizabeth, as it serves to build an independent power base, connections and resources for use should she need to disappear, and access to some truly unusual clients. The sorts of people who might well know how to make her powerful. She's not quite sure what sort of power it is she seeks, though she knows that political power is likely not enough to put her above Lord Strangford's schemes. She'll require personal power as well.

---

Initial Musings

I view Elizabeth's motivation for getting into the game, whatever the crew ends up being, to be both a form of a power grab and a form of rebelling from the rather strict expectations of propriety her family has. The Strangfords are well-connected and well-respected, though Elizabeth has never caught her father's attention and is decidedly not in line for any sort of inheritance. She'll be lucky to end up married off to some third-rate decadent idiot to formalize some alliance between the hunting fleets and the magistrates. Given her father's secret loyalties within the Church of Ecstasy, though, her fate may well end up darker still.

Given that she'd be most interested in developing some sort of power base for her own political machinations, I could see the Hawkers or the Smugglers fitting particularly well and would prefer those. Something more hands-on also would hold promise, though she'd fit into one of those better as a behind-the-scenes Spider.

As for her relationship with Leclure, I think that while it might have started with imported oils and clothing from abroad it is the fortune telling that keeps Elizabeth coming back. The messages Leclure reads in the cards have been strangely accurate, though they keep proclaiming doom to be coming. I could definitely see an overindulgence leading to Elizabeth running off to forestall some disaster that was foretold, but I'll admit that Functional Vice is probably an early pick-up. It fits with the character I'm envisioning and is remarkably useful.

Tricky fucked around with this message at 17:04 on Aug 15, 2019

Mors Rattus
Oct 25, 2007

FATAL & Friends
Walls of Text
#1 Builder
2014-2018

I have ideas.

Double May Care
Mar 28, 2012

We need Dragon-type Pokemon to help us prepare our food before we cook it. We're not sure why!



Name: Henrig Dimorgen
Alias: Jones
Archetype: Whisper
Look: Androgynous Man; Bright, Handsome, Weathered; Collared Shirt, Vest or Waistcoat, Loose Silks
Heritage: Tycheros (Third-generation resident, raised in squalor and taught to be self-reliant)
Telltale: Mirrored irises, shark-like teeth
Background: Underworld (Pickpockets nobility, mugs laborers)
Vice / Purveyor: Luxury (Dundridge & Sons; sells Henrig whatever odd garments he can afford)

Insight ••
Hunt
Study •
Survey •
Tinker

Prowess
Finesse
Prowl
Skirmish •
Wreck

Resolve •••
Attune ••
Command •
Consort •
Sway

Special Abilities
  • Occultist: You know the secret ways to Consort with ancient powers, forgotten gods or demons. Once you've consorted with one, you get +1d to command cultists who worship it.

Friends
▲ Fedir Dimorgen: The ghost of Henrig's grandfather, who still holds lofty dreams of Doskvol's glory days. He likes to hang around Jones, recounting stories and guiding him through the city.
▼ Setarra: A demon who promised Fedir safe travels to Doskvol in exchange for a favor which has not yet been called upon.

Henrig is obsessed with Doskvol. It began with his grandfather's stories, painting grand tales of the city's splendor, clinging onto that dream to his death bed. Years later, Henrig now insists that Doskvol speaks to him, telling him where wealth and other prospects can be found. Wandering through his city, he feels the "jones" to pull this and that from passers-by and affix his haul to his outfit; he fancies himself a patchwork noble from a legacy of rags. He was drawn to the crew the way he's drawn to many things: by the murmured pull of the city's bricks. He hopes to amass a fortune his grandfather would be proud of, and perhaps raise his name to something worthy of respect.

Double May Care fucked around with this message at 02:36 on Aug 21, 2019

Krysmphoenix
Jul 29, 2010
Oh dear, what do I play?

Tricky Dick Nixon
Jul 26, 2010

by Nyc_Tattoo
A reminder that right now I'm also interested in what kind of Crew we want to run, as that can really change the nature of play. If you like more than one option, feel free to vote for more than one. I'll include a short description below:
  • ASSASSINS: Killers for hire. They execute “accidents,” disappearances, murders, and ransoms.
  • BRAVOS: Mercenaries and thugs. They execute battles, extortion, sabotage, and smash & grabs.
  • CULT: Acolytes of a forgotten god. They execute artifact acquisitions, auguries, consecration, and sacrifices.
  • HAWKERS: Vice dealers. They execute product procurement, covert sales, shows of force, and social events.
  • SHADOWS: Thieves and spies. They execute burglaries, espionage, robberies, and sabotage.
  • SMUGGLERS: Contraband transporters. They execute clandestine deliveries, territory control, and expeditions outside the city.
Keep in mind that the focus of your crew determines what kind of scores advance your rank, and what you're most specialized in, but there's always room for side-gigs and operations that may not be "the usual business."

Fuzz
Jun 2, 2003

Avatar brought to you by the TG Sanity fund


Name: August Wyler
Alias: Rook
Archetype: Whisper > Hound
Look: Sharp lines all around, angular face accentuated by facial hair, slim and almost gangly build. Hazel eyes with golden flecks in the irises which rapidly narrow in catlike slits with darkening sclera the more he taps into his power (see below), always wears gloves which only just barely hide what would appear to be talon-like claws on his hands, though no one has seen said hands to know if it's just an affectation or the real deal.
Heritage: Tycherosi (1st generation, both parents)
Background: Underworld (Former spook/supernatural wrangling freelancer)
Vice: GAMBLING/Occult (the latter if Hound, if Whisper his gambling often comes in the form of pacts or games of chance/wit with powers beyond the ken of mortal man)


Insight
Hunt
Study •
Survey
Tinker

Prowess
Finesse
Prowl
Skirmish
Wreck

Resolve
Attune ••
Command
Consort
Sway

Special Abilities
Occultist - His experience with Setarra has left Rook with an innate ability to commune with ancient powers, an ability which drew his mentor to him in the first place...

Friends
Lord Scurlock - A former/erstwhile mentor, the old methuseleh (Rook refers to him as 'Meth') took a boy with untapped potential under his wing, honing his latent energies and talents into a tool that could one day prove useful...
Setarra - ... until he bit off more than he could chew. Unable to let the fate of his parents remain unsolved, Rook used Scurlock's connection to the ancient sea demon to bind her, for a time, so that he could plumb her for information. A young boy with hardly a grasp of the powers he faced could never hope to break an immortal demonic force so easily, of course, and Setarra broke free, vowing to make life miserable for the impudent mortal who dared try to tame her.
It doesn't help that Rook uses every opportunity to abuse his power and connection to the sea demon to cut bargains with her and then immediately meddle with her followers and use them to his own ends, if possible...


Backstory

At one time the future Scion of the The Purveyor Society, Rook was born to a life of means which rapidly vanished through no fault of his own. His parents, Edgyr and Ekaterina Wyler, were transplants from their native Tycheros, having arrived a few years apart a mere decade before Rook was born. Edgyr came first, a bright eyed (literally, they say his eyes often glittered in the darkness) young man with only the clothes on his back to his name, Edgyr somehow managed to carve out quite the reputation for himself as a man who could get things done... a reputation which became all the more cemented when the beautiful and exotic Ekaterina Vasha arrived from Tycheros, a captivating and mysterious beauty, said to hearken from a noble lineage of demon princes. This didn't help her get a foothold in the city, of course, and she worked as hostess (in a purely chaste fashion, mind) at The Veil for a time before Edgyr, his eye on the prize, won her heart, much to the chagrin of many bachelors in the Nightmarket.

What followed was a whirlwind romance notable not only for its passion, but the alarming degree of success and fortune the two immigrants managed to garner in such a short period of time. The Purveyor Society rapidly became the eminent trade company for all things from Tycheros, the Wylers amassing a sizeable fortune over the course of only a few years and at its peak commanding a small fleet of six ships (one of which is now crewed by the Fog Hounds, one of the splinters of the Purveyors) with a rather modest home bordering on what some might call a manor in Six Towers, across the canal from Brightstone. The Wylers moved in with their infant son, August, and they were the picture of happiness, much to the distaste of many of the old money Akarosi families who viewed them as upstart foreign trash.

They weren't quite too far off with that assessment, unfortunately. While to all appearances (most particularly to the Bluecoats) The Purveyors were a quite legitimate shipping company, the reality was far more... sinister. Through some dark combination of chicanery and straight sorcery, the Wylers had positioned their small outfit as one of the preeminent smuggler groups in the city, bringing in goods not only from Tycheros, but all the known lands - and getting them out. This service wasn't just relegated to goods, but also people... hungry workers from foreign shores, searching for wealth in the Dark Jewel, or escaping servants or, well, slaves, fleeing back to Skovlan, away from Imperial rule... often with prices on their heads. Whatever needed moving, the aptly named Purveyors could manage it.

August was sheltered from most of this for the majority of his childhood. The dark power that seemed to be steeped into his mother's family lineage had practically burst from his seams quite early in life, and his mother, a witch of some talent, was quick to begin his tutelage, all while trying to give him a "normal" upbringing as a well-to-do upper class Duskvolian. Suffice to say, it didn't work particularly well. August's less than standard appearance and strange predilection for weirdness would have made him an outcast on their own quite without the help of his heritage and questionable familial business practices, but the combination of all of the above made him a veritable social pariah. He'd skip school and wander the streets and gulleys of Six Towers, toying with the tricks his mother had taught him or picking up the fine art of grifting, solely out of curiosity and amusement. Little did he know this would be training that would be of particular use in his future life.

Just shy of being a teenager, August was orphaned quite suddenly, his parents' ship having vanished off the coast on its way to the Dagger Isles. This wouldn't normally be suspicious to most, but the seas were calm and there had been no Leviathan sightings for weeks along that route. The bankers, creditors, and rival shipping companies and criminal endeavors wasted no time in pouncing on the opportunity, the amassed wealth of the Wyler family vanishing within a fortnight, August left to fend for himself on the streets. He kciked around for several months, getting by, until he was picked up by the Bluecoats for petty theft and thrown in Strathmill House, just another weird little orphan boy with just enough street smarts to be useful to the right types of people.

It was some years later when he crossed paths with Lord Scurlock, the ancient vampire having known of his parents and keeping tabs on the boy with the golden eyes from an early age. "Rescuing" him from a truly decrepit fate as just another urchin on the underside of Crow's Foot, the vampire took August under his wing, furthering his training in the supernatural arts.

After his encounter with Setarra, rather than be upset, Scurlock was decidedly impressed, not only with the skill of the young man who he had had a hand in raising, but at his sheer audacity and tenacity, to try to tame a demon queen. They parted on good terms, though August had to make himself scarce, obviously, lest the wrath of Setarra fall on his mentor, as well. Setting out on his own, he began to take odd jobs on the fringes of the Underworld, his near-death experience at trying to tame Setarra having curbed his previously brash nature and making him a rather stoic and stalwart, though rumored to be formidable (whether that reputation was earned or no), handler on the periphery of the Underworld, thus garnering his moniker, Rook.

This could only last so long, of course. The fire in his heart to find the answers to his parents' disappearance had never extinguished, and when faced with the prospect of having to gain that information with whatever means necessary... well, it seemed only prudent to have a crew at your back. A wise urchin always knows, you stick to what you know, and well, there was always the family business...


Musings

Rook ultimately has questions, questions which he will stop at little to get the answers for. Unfortunately for him, the combination of those questions and his own innate powers with the dark arts have thrust him along a very steep, dangerous, and narrow path, which may or may not lead to oblivion.

While he projects an air of calm reservedness, the glint of a thrillseeker hides in those golden streaks in his eyes, and a life of taking risks and toeing that precarious ledge have turned him into an avid pursuant of games of chance, not your usual casino or backroom affairs, but wagers of all sorts, the stranger or more powerful the stakes, the better.

How he's lived this long is still a surprise to him. Perhaps his gift is more than it seems, or perhaps he's just being strung along by fate to meet a cruel end... he doesn't know, but he knows he'll find out eventually, whether he wants to or not...



The eyes have it...

Fuzz fucked around with this message at 06:21 on Aug 20, 2019

Scrree
Jan 16, 2008

the history of all dead generations,
The first thing I can remember is sitting next to my nan on a cold winter morn. It was too cold to play or work, so we huddled by the fire while she entertained me with tales of her homeland. She spoke of how the heroes of Skovland could outrun the horrors of the blighted land and best calamitous creatures in single combat. One day, pa didn't get enough pay from the mine to keep the fire going, and the frost took nan in her sleep. Her ghost shrieked for hours. I have never seen her homeland, and I doubt I ever will.



Name: Tristaine Edda
Alias: Scrape
Archetype: Cutter = Hound > Lurk
Look: Woman, Athletic & Scarred, Scavenged Uniform, Short Cloak, Work Boots
Heritage: Skovlander (2nd generation)
Background: Underworld (Former champion fighter of an underground bloodsport arena)
Vice / Purveyor: Obligation (Teaches fencing to a young noble who holds her younger sister's well paying job and decent social status hostage.)



Insight ••
Hunt •
Study
Survey •
Tinker

Prowess ••
Finesse
Prowl
Skirmish ••
Wreck •

Resolve ••
Attune
Command •
Consort •
Sway

Special Abilities

Vigorous:: You recover from harm faster. Permanently fill in one of your healing clock segments. Take +1d to healing treatment rolls.

Friends
▲ Marlane, a pugilist. A childhood friend from Coalrisdge who also walks the path of earning pay through violence. Has ties to several radical pro-Skovlander groups. Good drinking buddy. Would burn Whitecrown to cinders if she could.
▼ Mercy, a cold killer. The bastard scion of some Iruvian/Akorosian tryst; she wields a dueling blade in one hand and a dueling pistol in her other. Lost to Tristaine in the ring without her pistol, nearly killed her on the street with it. Kill on sight.

Backstory
Tristaine was born in Coalridge as the child of Skovlander immigrants to Doskvol, and her early years were a blur of cold nights, empty bowls, evictions, and many other traumas common to the city. She managed to avoid complete immiseration through a rare knack for violence, and an ever rarer cool-headedness that kept her disengaged from the bloody gang wars. She gained enough of a reputation as a street tough to be hired as training meat for a far wealthier duelist, and became a participant in the ring after he flinched at the last moment. She won and then she kept winning. Her experience on the streets of Coalridge made her faster and meaner than her highly pedigreed opponents.

Dueling brought her more than the satisfaction of embarrassing prideful nobles. The purse of the victor lies heavy, and the nights after fights always came a blur of drinking and carousing. Tristaine found the feeling of buying the room another round more intoxicating than any liquor. The power she felt in the ring was her own. The power to cut and not be cut, a power solely and finely honed for the destruction of others. Money held every other kind of power. She could buy joy, she could buy beauty, she could buy contact, she could buy distance from her past.

One night, while bar-hopping with her posse after a victory in the ring, Tristaine saw her opponent for a second time in one day. The woman held both a blade and pistol, and behind her stood six people with arms drawn. Tristaine's crew outnumbered her opponents, but they broke and ran at the first shot. Her mentored stayed to help her. Her mentor died. Tristaine was shot, cut, and stabbed. She only by dropping her weapon and tumbling into the Dosk river. She somehow managed to stay afloat and crawled her way to shore. Tristaine crawled through the streets aimlessly, until she found the group of companions that had abandoned her before. She swore at them, shaming them for their cowardice, and she asked them to promise her vengeance for her pride and her mentor. She passed out before they could answer.

She woke in a cramped room in Coalridge with her sister, Brenna, tending her wounds. Her companions had dropped her saying, telling Brenna that they thought Tristaine would not be long for the world, but it was the least they could do to bring her 'home'. One of them had taken Tristaine's wallet. It was, indeed, the least they could do.

Tristraine refused to die, and Brenna refused to abandon her sister. Infection took, a common occurrence after one takes a dip in the Dosk river, and the cost of medicine was paid with meatless meals and disappearing furniture. Tristaine felt herself a burden on her sister, but Brenna never once begrudged her for it, even as dark rings began to appear under her eyes. The nights grew colder as winter approached. At the darkest time of the day, frost filled the room, and under thing blankets and bloody bandages Tristaine would begin to shiver. She felt very nostalgic for her childhood, and stories her grandmother had told her came back after years of being forgotten. She played out one story in particular over and over and over...

Right before the harshest part of winter hit, everything reversed. The house warmed to the sound of crackling fires, the meals exploded with fatty eel, and new, thick sheets covered both beds. Tristaine asked how her sister could get these things. Brenna admitted that she had gotten a new job with much better pay, but she didn't want to tell Tristaine anything about it because she knew the details would make her worry. The lack of details made Tristaine worry.
All her questions where answered when not long after leaving for work, Brenna returned with a young man. He was dressed to look plain, but Tristaine marked him as a noble immediately -- no practical person walked through winter Doskvol in clothes so freshly cleaned and pressed. He took off a scarf covering his face, and Tristaine vaguely remembered seeing him in the audience of a few duels. He smiled in that infuriating way nobles do, and made her an offer she couldn't refuse.

Musings

Tristaine is a scoundrel because she wields her violence against society for her own benefit, and she is a criminal because she refuses to be coerced by the hierarchy she was born into. Tristaine's motivation for joining the crew is that she wants wealth that can't be taken away from her, power that won't abandon her, and security for the few people she truly cares about. A smuggling ring, discrete and lucatrive, offers her a chance to claim all three.

The great houses of Doskvol loom in her mind like the fickle gods from her Grandmother's stories. They provide the very terrain that she must ascend to fulfill her ambition, but to earn their wrath is invite doom unless one is very, very prepared. The thought of working for the Akorosian nobility makes Tristaine imagine herself a leashed dog, liable to be put down at the slightest whim of their master. But it's undeniable that a leashed dog is fed, and Tristaine will never go hungry again.

Scrree fucked around with this message at 04:51 on Aug 14, 2019

Rhjamiz
Oct 28, 2007

Never played this before but I'm interested.

Edit: Also I vote Assassins

Rhjamiz fucked around with this message at 00:23 on Aug 9, 2019

Theantero
Nov 6, 2011

...We danced the Mamushka while Nero fiddled, we danced the Mamushka at Waterloo. We danced the Mamushka for Jack the Ripper, and now, Fester Addams, this Mamushka is for you....

Imagine this but even more hanging vials, charms, etched bones etc. and more worn and patched clothing

Name: Arnaud DeFitch
Alias: Hexe
Archetype: Very strong preference for Whisper, but can do Leech in a pinch
Look: Man; Brooding, irate, scruffy; Worn and patched clothes, Many charms and esoteric items, Long Coat, Wizard Hat, Spirit Mask
Heritage: Akoros (An orphan of a poor family, taken in by a local hedge witch as an apprentice)
Background: Underworld (Apprentice to a late hedge witch, carrying on her footsteps)
Vice / Purveyor: Weird (Nicholas, a hunter and appropriator of strange fauna, flora and fungi that Arnaud needs for various rites and Payments he's managed to rope himself into; can usually be found around Barrowcleft)

Insight •••
Hunt
Study •
Survey •
Tinker ••

Prowess
Finesse
Prowl
Skirmish
Wreck

Resolve ••
Attune ••
Command •
Consort
Sway

Special Abilities
  • Strange methods: When you invent or craft a creation with arcane features, get +1 result level to your roll (a 1-3 becomes a 4/5, etc.). You begin with one arcane design already known.

Friends
▲ Quellyn, a witch. A friend and colleague of Arnaud's late teacher whom he has known since childhood. Now a friend colleague of his. Getting in on the years, but an invaluable aid in all matters mystic.
▼ Setarra, a demon. Fancies herself a 'patron'. Arnaud fancies her as 'his biggest mistake to date'.

There are not many learned men in a place like Barrowcleft. Arnaud would vehemently argue against this, he has a swift tongue and sharp opinions after all, but even he would be forced to admit he's not learned in the sort of way the fancy folk would recognize or respect as equal. Maesters Seer would malign him a hexweaver, learned Enchanters a charm-peddler. A witch, maybe. A warlock, definitely. But he's a backbone of his local community, as was his late Mistress under whom he studied after being orphaned, and who's little curio shop/witch hut he's continued to inhabit. And said community would vouch for his ability, for though his charms are often unorthodox and his exorcisms... ad hoc, they have the sort of ingenious practicality to them born of poverty, lack of proper grimoires and constant hands-on experience with the occult since before one learned to read that tends to get the job done well and often for cheap.

And though Arnaud would malign the Classically Educated as out of touch in his usual grim and acerbic manner, there is something to be said for proper library access, since a good occult lexicon tends to curb problems like having to try and calculate Demonic True Name Gematrias by conjecture alone. A mistake which Arnaud vows he'll never make again. A mistake which might or might not have something to do with his insistence to help form a smuggler crew at the age of 37 in a desperate attempt to help get his hands on a variety of exceedingly rare and possibly entirely mythical reagents and ingredients from all around the World. He won't say. He refuses to.

Theantero fucked around with this message at 17:27 on Aug 14, 2019

Fuzz
Jun 2, 2003

Avatar brought to you by the TG Sanity fund

Tricky Dick Nixon posted:

  • ASSASSINS: Killers for hire. They execute “accidents,” disappearances, murders, and ransoms.
  • BRAVOS: Mercenaries and thugs. They execute battles, extortion, sabotage, and smash & grabs.
  • CULT: Acolytes of a forgotten god. They execute artifact acquisitions, auguries, consecration, and sacrifices.
  • HAWKERS: Vice dealers. They execute product procurement, covert sales, shows of force, and social events.
  • SHADOWS: Thieves and spies. They execute burglaries, espionage, robberies, and sabotage.
  • SMUGGLERS: Contraband transporters. They execute clandestine deliveries, territory control, and expeditions outside the city.

My votes on what Crews I'd wanna play.



Pic of my dude, leaning heavily toward a Whisper, but possibly a Hound or even a Cutter.

Edit:

Whisper > Hound = Spider = Cutter > Slide

Fuzz fucked around with this message at 01:06 on Aug 9, 2019

Yngwie Mangosteen
Aug 23, 2007
withdrawn, not enough time

Yngwie Mangosteen fucked around with this message at 20:19 on Aug 16, 2019

Tricky Dick Nixon
Jul 26, 2010

by Nyc_Tattoo
I looked at the comments thus far as on Crew Playbooks. I counted strong or straightforward preferences as 1 "vote" while weak or tentative preferences as half a vote. A current survey of the options thus far:
  • ASSASSINS: -0.5
  • BRAVOS: -0.5
  • CULT: 2.5
  • HAWKERS: 7.5
  • SHADOWS: 5.5
  • SMUGGLERS: 9.5
Thus far, Smugglers is the clearest preference and along with Shadows the only one without a vote against. But Hawkers, as well as Cult or Shadows, would be within striking distance if other folks weigh in. I think enough people voted "no" on Assassins and Bravos that I'm going to disqualify both of those and leave it to the four of Cult, Hawkers, Shadows and Smugglers.

I'm moving over this weekend but I'm going to move the time table up slightly since interest picked up and so we aren't spinning our wheels too much (game would still be scheduled to start in September though). I'll close the vote on the crew type by this next Monday, August 12. And then a bit over a week after that, on Friday, August 23rd, make selections from final character sheets.

Tricky Dick Nixon fucked around with this message at 23:32 on Aug 9, 2019

mcclay
Jul 8, 2013

Oh dear oh gosh oh darn
Soiled Meat
Reserve post. Will make a sheet soon

Davin Valkri
Apr 8, 2011

Maybe you're weighing the moral pros and cons but let me assure you that OH MY GOD
SHOOT ME IN THE GODDAMNED FACE
WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!
I'd like to submit a character for this as well! I'm good with any group option, but would prefer Hawkers or Smugglers.


Name: Milos Bonadventuros
Alias: Othello or Bonnie
Archetype: Spider
Look: Male/Ambiguous; Delicate, fair, slim, wiry; Long tattered coat, long tattered scarf, fitted leggings
Heritage: Dagger Isles--Akoros transplanted merchant prince, sidelined from wealth and power by aggressive politics between and within families
Background: Trade--disowned scion of a banking/shipping company (Think Fugger, Hansa, Medici, or similar)
Vice/Purveyor: Pleasure--Kusuri's particular tobacco/poppy flower blend, and who knows where he sources those or whether he gets high on his own supply. Milos has paid him way too much money and might have let slip some family secrets in a drug induced haze. Plies his trade to many people on the Docks


(Kusuri)

Insight •••
Hunt •
Study •
Survey •
Tinker

Prowess
Finesse
Prowl
Skirmish
Wreck

Resolve •••
Attune
Command •
Consort ••
Sway •

Special Abilities
  • Foresight: Two times per score you can assist a teammate without paying stress. Describe how you prepared for this.

Friends
▲ Salia, an information "broker". A mid-level clerk in the Bonadventuros Trade League, and one of the last connections he has to that organization that hasn't been suborned by other powers and bribes. How she's kept off their black books for replacement is a mystery.
▼ Jeren, a Bluecoat archivist. A hopeless idealist who also fancies themselves a promotion to Inspector, and figures uncovering corruption and scandal in the banking trade is their way in. It's not clear how they learned of Milos' predicament, but they want him to flip to the law.

Blurb in brief: In a just world, Milos believes, he would currently be enjoying the ripe and exotic fruits of a world spanning trade empire, and have enough free time to pursue any art, sample any sweet, and bed any man he wanted. Unfortunately, the fortunes of the tides, clamoring competitors, and an aggressive cousin have put paid to those ideas, and now he's been cut off from all of his luxuries and almost all of his funds. Now he's just going to have to get all of that some other way. It's his right and he'll pursue it as he pleases, with or without his family's backing.

---

In the most technical sense, Milos was born in Akoros. But he moved to the Dagger Isles, following his family on the potential for profit, long before he could remember anything about it. In his eyes, he's as much of a native of the Isles as any tanned, brawny powerful jungle hunter.

The Dagger Isles make a surprising amount of sense for profit--it sits very naturally at the "gateway" to points beyond the Shattered Isles, and lightning rails through them connect lands diverse in culture...and in coin. Establishing a Trade League that could handle both the goods and the gold was the Bonadventuros family choice to make their mark. Milos was raised in luxury as a merchant prince, with the expectation of ascent through the company and the pleasures afforded thereby.

Then a few Bonadventuros ships got lost at sea while their rivals seemed to have no issues. And he might have said a few things about paying the locals in proper coin rather than scrip that someone took offense to. The last straw was a rival company stealing his personal pocketwatch. And so he schemed to get it back...

Tricky Dick Nixon posted:

With an anecdote, tell us when your character realized they needed a crew. Maybe it was a score they tried to put on that was bad. Maybe it was something more introspective, but there was a moment where it clicked that you needed to band together. It's possible this isn't the first crew or gang you've run along with, and maybe you even had partnerships (potentially with other PCs, we'll have a chance to build on those connections later) with individuals, but you've never really been a "founder" before of a real venture. This is something special, so tell us what brought your character to that decision and how they look at it.

Give us the names of whom you hold as most to blame for your estrangement. Is it a relative, a rival, or perhaps something even more external? The blame might even be distributed among many names and faces. The one person I think we can be sure has no blame is Milos himself, of course. But getting a sense of this would give us a bit of a sketch of Milos's situation, and how he might plan to claw out of it.

Today was a very good day indeed, Milos thought to himself between sips of wine. One harried clerk deceived, one dockside safety deposit box opened. One silver watch objet d'art secured under his jacket, one trip in and out. Nobody the wiser, and all that stood between him and the security of his little apartment was one lightning rail trip, arriving in thirty minutes. He had time to enjoy himself.

He heard the door to the pub swing open and the cacophonous heavy tramp of a line of teamster boots stomp in. Probably getting eel pies and ale for lunch, Milos thought. Then someone with much more delicate shoes stepped in and stopped beside him.

"Long time no see, Milos," he heard, and he turned to see the addressor.

"Has it really been, Arvus Tyrconnell?" Milos answered, the curt formality of the full name masked by a practiced smile and cheery tone. The Tyrconnell and Bonadventuros families were both in the Dagger Isles trade and banking business, and while that made them rivals, it also meant they were invited to the same socialite parties and ambassadorial gatherings. They might have yelled insults at each other on the high seas, or quietly bribed dockworkers to load particularly valuable cargo on their ship instead, but fights in public were a big no-no--not if they wanted to keep their deals with the noble houses. So any conflict in public was done in happy tones and acid words.

"Years, Milos, years," said Arvus, sliding into the seat beside him, but pointedly not flagging down the barkeep. "Remember when we saw the Severos ambassador bring his horse in to clean out the punch bowl? Good times."

"I don't think this is a social call," Milos answered, cutting her off. "So what brings you here of all places,"

"Why, business, of course!" Arvus said, with her own false smile. "The shipping business. I'm tracking down a missing package, you see. One of our clerks seems to have given it to an unauthorized middleman."

"I see," Milos said flatly.

"Well, I'll just need a drink and then I'll be on my way." She reached over the counter for a glass--where was the barkeep?!--and poured herself a drink from her own hip flask. "Toast with me, will you?" She raised her glass, and Milos, keeping the charade, motioned in kind. "To good business!" she cheered.

"To good business," Milos replied, and clinked his glass with hers. Except the clink sounded very loud. And very painful. His head smashed against the counter and he felt glass shards tangled in the hair in the back of his head.

"Search him!" he heard Arvus shout, all pretense gone, and felt himself get dragged bodily out of his chair to the ground, and rough hands slide around his jacket and shirt collar. They soon clasped themselves around the watch in his jacket.

"That's mi--" Milos tried to protest as he pulled himself up, but one of the teamster boots stomped hard into his stomach and drove out his breath. Arvus snatched up the watch from the teamster, and Milos watched as she tossed him a shining gold coin for his trouble.

"No, this is mine," Arvus laughed, snapping the lid shut on the "for M" on the inside, and rubbing her thumb over the clear Bonadventuros coat of arms engraved there. "You took this from our clerk and thought we wouldn't see."

"You'll never get away with this," choked Milos. "The family will--AAAGH!" Another heavy kick to the stomach interrupted him.

"Oh, you didn't know? Your share of the company got sold. To me." Arvus looked so smug as she announced the news.

"That's not--who--"

"Bonnie Vey Bonadventuros sold me his share of the Bonadventuros trade empire," Arvus explained, smiling widely, "and then he bought your share. They didn't bother to consult you? Ah, he must be family, to have signed it off alone."

"Why--"

"So you have nothing to save you. You've been disowned. You have no patron to shield you. And no gentleman's code to protect you. Why, I can order my men to kill you right now, but that'll make the Bluecoats mad and I'll have to pay extra to get them out." She grabbed the drinks off the counter and poured them over Milos' eyes. "So I'll just have them beat you to within an inch of your life. Bye now!"

"Wait--!" Milos' anger was cut off by a boot to the neck.

----

An hour later, Milos staggered onto the street smelling of blood and alcohol. Of course the Bluecoats shoved him along, assuming that his injuries had been brought on himself as part of a drunken brawl. He stumbled into an alley and looked at his reflection in a pane of window glass. At his battered face and thin, slender body.

He pushed a fist against the wall and swore. Of course Arvus was right. This could not be only about knowledge advantages and quiet, deniable plays anymore. It would have been gauche to even touch him when he was in the family's good graces. Now Arvus or Vey or anybody else could openly call on thugs to beat the crap out of him, and he would be treated like any other poor ex-noble with no inheritance prospects--badly.

He needed something to protect against that new threat. He needed muscle, spies, arcane power.

He needed to get a crew of his own.

Tricky Dick Nixon posted:

[*]Describe a score the crew might undertake, and the role your character would play. It can be from your character's perspective, or more detached. It can be relatively simple and straightforward, or have many twists and turns along the way. The important thing to communicate is where you (and the character) would see themselves fitting in with a team dynamic. When the spotlight is on them, how do they perform? What is the one unique thing they bring to the crew that no one else quite has?[/list]

Back in the days when Milos was still in the Bonadventuros' good graces, one of the more popular ways to "steal" a good involved messing about with its paper trail. It often involves a fair bit of forgery and cross-loading, both at the location where the good was stored and in the port authority. It relies a fair bit on bureaucratic inertia and browbeating lower level clerks, but done right, it makes the original owners seem like they're trying to defraud the new owner of a rightful claim. Even done only moderately well, the necessary solicitors and suits to get back the goods cost so much coin that the original owners may be willing to let sleeping dogs lie.

Now, back in the good old days the trade leagues would leave it at that, out of fear of retaliation by the law. Obviously, the current parties involved would be more likely to hire mercenaries and cutters to force back the necessary goods. Milos isn't any good at fighting, with a gun or with a knife. And his ability to actually make a forged bill of sale is...questionable. Selling the bill of sale to a tired clerk who just wants to clock out? Talking the ear off of Bluecoats who might take an interest? Charming the noble personages who have the goods to target? That he can do.

Davin Valkri fucked around with this message at 01:05 on Aug 21, 2019

deadking
Apr 13, 2006

Hello? Charlemagne?!


Name: Roethe Keel
Alias: Nail
Archetype: Hound
Look: Man, affable, wiry, scarred; long coat, tall boots, thick belt
Heritage: Dagger Isles (a once young sailor, press-ganged into the imperial army)
Background: Military (he deserted after years on campaign)
Vice/Purveyor: Stupor (Years on campaign in the service of a cause he didn’t choose and barely understands have taken their toll. Under the surface, Roethe has lost his taste for violence and is on the verge of losing his edge. He soothes his frayed nerves with narcotics in the city’s various smoke-filled drug dens. Red Brena’s establishment down near the docks is his favorite.)

Insight ••
Hunt: ••
Study:
Survey: •
Tinker:

Prowess ••
Finesse:
Prowl:
Skirmish: ••
Wreck: •

Resolve
Attune:
Command: •
Consort:
Sway

Special Abilities:

Sharpshooter: You can push yourself to do one of the following: make a ranged attack at extreme distance beyond what’s normal for the weapon—unleash a barrage of rapid fire to suppress the enemy

Gelert, the Hound



Friends:
▲ Casta, a bounty Hunter: Roethe’s closest friend and occasional lover. They came up together in a dockside crew, but she had the smarts and the drive to move up in the underworld. Now she doesn’t do street level stuff anymore and plies her trade for a more selective clientele, although still based out of Crow’s Foot. They deeply and genuinely care about each other but lack the language to express that. More than anyone, Grace can see how close to the brink Roethe might be. As a matter of self-preservation, she now keeps him at arm’s length, but will help him out in a pinch.
▼ Melvir, a physicker: Any scoundrel worth his or her salt knows to find a physicker who will keep their mouth shut and not ask too many questions. Roethe chose poorly. While patching him up Sawtooth got a good look at Roethe’s tattoos and saw one particular to the regiment he deserted from and put most of the pieces together. He hasn’t made any explicit threats yet, but Roethe knows that he knows and that he is obliged to Sawtooth now.

Background

So, the lad is nattering on about his ma and his little brothers again. He can’t wait to finish his term and get back home to spend that enlistment bonus, he says. He’s fooling himself. I’ve heard that cough a dozen times before and I’ve seen the scarlet stains on his kerchief. He won’t survive the winter on Skovlan. It’ll be a miracle if any of us do. The ships carrying the winter coats wrecked in a storm and I can’t remember a time I was warm anymore. They’ve marched us up and down this godforsaken island for fifteen years and I’m tired of the mud and the screams and being loving afraid all the time. When we rotate back to Duskwall this time I won’t be coming back. I’m going to lose myself in its back alleys and scrounge enough together to pay the blockade runner. I’m going home either on my own two feet or in a pine box. I don’t care anymore.

But the boy doesn’t need to know that and it’s not his fault he’s stupid and dying so I tell him my piece. I tell him about the Dagger Isles and its jungles and ghosts. I tell him about what it’s like to go to sea. I watch his eyes go wide when I lie to him about seeing a leviathan. I tell him about passing out drunk in the wrong bar and waking up in His Imperial Majesty’s service like it’s a joke. Was it ever funny? Sometimes I laugh. He has a hundred questions about Severos and the war and the regiment and I tell him about Lauria and Quess and the rest of the old brigade. I tell him to keep his head down and his rifle clean, knowing that he's going to die shivering in this trench and he’ll never see a Skovlander. I don’t tell him about her. Some memories are mine alone.

The years after are a hazy blur of smoke and violence. Doskvol isn’t a kind city but it’ll always have a place for people like you and me. Keep your head down, do the work, and don’t ask too many questions. It’ll take you far here. The smugglers, charlatans and crew chiefs always need hard people and that’s what we are, eh? Nevermind what I… what you do with your own time. Whatever it takes to keep your edge up out on the road. Next year’ll be the year I finally get back home. I’m sure she’s waiting. I’m sure she’ll remember me. These things just take time, you see. This new crew promises a heavy purse and all we have to do is move a few things from here to there. Easy. Just watch my back out there and I’ll watch yours. And you let me know if a bluecoat with one eye comes around asking about me. Why did I tell you about that boy, again? Haven’t thought about him in ages. It's your round to buy, I reckon, mate.


Thoughts

Roethe’s ostensible motivation for joining the crew is earning enough to pay a sea-captain who won’t ask questions to ferry him back to the Dagger Isles. In reality, he is no longer sure why exactly he wants to go home or who might still be waiting for him after so long. In more contemplative moments, Roethe wonders if he sells violence because he doesn’t know what else to do. More than anything, it is the dysfunctional sense of camaraderie and belonging that keeps him on the job. Most of the money he earns is in any case squandered on more immediate creature comforts. His relationship with Red Brena is a confused mix of customer, confidant, and enabler. He feels secure in her establishment, but it is inevitably in her professional interest to supply him with his unhealthy coping mechanism. Roethe is also looking over his shoulder for the Bluecoats who he presumes are looking to bring him to his appointment with the hangman, but his edge has started slipping as of late.

Roethe has a rough way of speaking but is generally good-natured in spite of his blood-stained profession. He selectively adheres to some sort of thieves’ honor and loyalty to his co-conspirators, however temporary they may be. Years in the military, where insubordination met with summary and brutal punishment, have discouraged him from a certain amount of independent thought. Roethe reflexively follows the lead of others, a quality that has put him in danger in the past; an ounce of kindness goes far with him.

Crew preference: Smugglers, Hawkers
Crew un-preference: Cult

deadking fucked around with this message at 18:13 on Aug 21, 2019

thatbastardken
Apr 23, 2010

A contract signed by a minor is not binding!


Name: Viktor Vasko
Alias: Ogre
Archetype: Cutter>Lurk>Hound
Look: Man, Brooding, Huge, Scarred, Work Boots, Work Trousers, Thick Greatcoat, Knit Cap
Heritage: Skovlan. Stubbornly refuses to speak 'proper' Akarosi.
Background: Military (A soldier loyal to the end)
Vice / Purveyor: Obligation (Skovlander Refugees and Veterans) Hutton, the community leader of a large portion of the Skov exodus, gives Viktor the opportunity to help his people in constructive ways.

A looming, sullen presence on the docks and in the lower bars of Doskvol since the end of the Unity War. Will turn from carrying out shocking acts of violence to helping a little old lady carry her shopping in the blink of an eye.

thatbastardken fucked around with this message at 13:55 on Aug 10, 2019

TheFireMagi
Nov 6, 2011

...She's behind me, isn't she?


Name: Duncan Templeton
Alias: Domovoi
Archetype: Hound
Look: Man; Calm, Bony, Worn; Long coat, work trousers, tall boots
Heritage: Akoros
Background: Labor (the latest and likely last of the Templeton line to serve Mother Narya's house)
Vice / Purveyor: Faith (Solve the mystery of the fall of the Scurlock house and restore them to power)

Insight
Hunt ••
Study •
Survey ••
Tinker

Prowess
Finesse
Prowl •
Skirmish
Wreck

Resolve
Attune
Command
Consort
Sway •

Special Abilities
Focused: You may expend your special armor to resist a consequence of surprise or mental harm (fear, confusion, losing track of someone) or to push yourself for ranged combat or tracking.

Friends
▲ Melvir, a physicker. Tends to ramble on, but unquestionably talented at their craft. Has attended to Lady Narya in the past, as well as a number of other nobles.
▼ Steiner, an assassin. A pure mercenary who's made an attempt on Lady Narya's life before. Letting them get away is perhaps my personal greatest failure.

Templeton. A common family name that, at least for members of the nobility, was most closely associated with those devoted servants of the Scurlock house. Common-born as the Templeton lineage might have been, their centuries of unerring servitude to the Scurlocks, descendant after descendant, has earned them an unusual measure of respect and trust by their employing house. The aid of the ever loyal, ever steadfast Templetons has unquestionably contributed to the prosperity of the Scurlock house, though what form that aid has taken has varied over the many years. From menial tasks, to assistance in management, to handling the dirty deeds that every noble certainly committed but couldn't be traced back to, the Templetons were there every step of the way. Thus, it was all the more painful for Duncan and his family as the Six Towers district fell into relative disarray, and with it the fortunes and prestige of the Scurlock house.

"A series of unfortunate events," the public called it. Every investment, every contract, every deal made in both broad daylight and the shadows of night somehow turned to ash. Sudden storms as Scurlock ships sailed outward and inward. Inexplicable fires set to Scurlock warehouses. The still unsolved disappearance of Lady Scurlock. No matter how one looked at it, it must have been sabotage of some nature, yet no culprits were ever caught. For the Templetons, it would forever cause them pain and grief, perhaps even moreso than the Scurlocks themselves. Was it some kind of curse? Or karma for some of the more ambitious, and malicious actions of the two families in the past? It mattered not. What mattered was that everything the Templetons had worked for was collapsing around their eyes, and there seemed to be nothing that could be done about it. For a lineage devoted to centuries of service, there was no greater shame.

In the end, Lord Scurlock moved on from the tattered and worn Scurlock manor to greener pastures, taking an ailing Leonard Templeton with him. By all reports, the duo have done quite well for themselves since the migration, leaving many to speculate that it was a curse upon the manor itself that dragged the Scurlocks down. Yet two remain in the Six Towers district: Mother Narya Scurlock, mistress of the Arms of the Weeping Lady charity house, and Duncan Templeton. The niece, and the son. As shipments for and even attendants of the Weeping Lady continue to go missing, whatever 'misfortune' has fallen upon the Scurlock house continues to assail its last remaining descendant in Doskvol. Rather than being beaten down, however, the incidents only seem to drive the two forward to discover and be promptly rid of the source of this misfortune. Whatever it takes to restore the Scurlock name, Duncan tells himself.

To that end, Duncan Templeton, alias Domovoi, has taken to the streets of Duskvol. Though he and his family have had contact with the criminal underworld in the past, it is now that Duncan finds he must embrace it fully as the Scurlocks have few allies of note remaining, their misfortune driving away many the house called friend. While he does not expect any wealth earned to last, the connections that can only be found and made running these dirty deeds are what interests Duncan most.

Still thinking about this character, but would probably prefer Shadows or Hawkers.

TheFireMagi fucked around with this message at 17:55 on Aug 14, 2019

Tardzilla
Aug 31, 2006

Interest post. Will see about setting something up during the weekend.

Brainamp
Sep 4, 2011

More Zen than Zenyatta



Name: Corwin Baldric
Alias: Mort
Archetype: Lurk
Look: Man, Grimy, Rough, Scarred, Slim; Rags & Tatters, Work Boots
Heritage: Akoros
Background: Labor (Former servant in the service of Lord Hix Keel)
Vice / Purveyor: Stupor/Weird, Mistress Mayer's Medicinal Shop, Nightmarket (The Death Lands left some permanent keepsakes upon Corwin's body. The pain never truly goes away, but the good lady helps the boy forget it for a while.)

Insight ••
Hunt •
Study
Survey •
Tinker

Prowess •••
Finesse •
Prowl ••
Skirmish
Wreck •

Resolve
Attune •
Command
Consort
Sway

Special Abilities
The Devil’s Footsteps: You can push yourself to do one of the following:
-Perform a feat of athletics that verges on the superhuman
-Maneuver to confuse your enemies so they mistakenly attack each other

Friends
▲ Telda, a beggar. A good old soul and the first person in town to offer Corwin shelter after his return through the barrier. While her best years are far behind her, no one knows Dunslough better.

▼ Roslyn Kellis, a noble. Corwin knew her to be one of Lord Hix's business partners. Popular gossip around the house had it that she held a powerful position in the Hive and oversaw a great deal of their extra-Ministry shipping. When was visiting, the staff knew to keep out of sight as much as was possible. The lady is cruel, happily finding faults where none exist and using them as an excuse to beat those she believes below her station.

------------------------------------------------------------------

The lords make a game of it, you know? Sending men out into the Death Lands. They'll get to drinking and arguing and say, "Any one of my boys can easily last twice as long as one of yours out there!" Course it's not like they can just toss out the butler or the cook. Quality servants are hard to replace after all. But what about that porter boy? What's he doing, skulking around like some loathsome rat? Nobody will miss him.

Nobody would ever miss little Corwin. So a bet is made and the Bluecoats are called in. If you're lucky, you get tossed in with the next batch of Ironhook rejects being forced to walk the wastes. If not, you get a quick boot off the train after it passes the barrier. Fighting back or trying to escape doesn't help. Just means that you'll have some extra scars when you're kicked into the wasteland.

And all that time, the lords are back in their home laughing. Laughing and drinking and forgetting all about that silly little bet. Forgetting about poor little Corwin. They'll sleep in a soft bed while the boys outside scream in pain and horror and hate.

They'd never expect one of the poor saps to actually find a way back into the city.

Corwin's motivation for joining the crew is primarily for revenge. The shame of having to hide his face on the street infuriates him and reminds him of the callous nobles who cast him out. He hopes to use the crew as a means of finding out a way to strike back at them. The money he gets from the jobs generally goes towards medication, but Mistress Mayer has promised him that with enough time and money, she can truly give him the power to fight the lords of Duskwall.

Brainamp fucked around with this message at 01:20 on Aug 14, 2019

IPlayVideoGames
Nov 28, 2004

I unironically like Anders as a character.
Shadows or Cult sounds interesting.

I can put a general character up if you still think you’re looking for more apps.

Tricky Dick Nixon
Jul 26, 2010

by Nyc_Tattoo

IPlayVideoGames posted:

Shadows or Cult sounds interesting.

I can put a general character up if you still think you’re looking for more apps.

Feel free! I will probably close applications once the crew archetype is decided on, but I don't mind having a wealth of options to choose from, though obviously can't take everyone.

If there's anyone thinking of running a Blades game in the near future, there's obviously an appetite for it, so maybe we'll see another recruit go up sometime after.

Relentless
Sep 22, 2007

It's a perfect day for some mayhem!


Interest post

Hawkers or Smugglers sound interesting. I'll get something up later.

Captain Walker
Apr 7, 2009

Mother knows best
Listen to your mother
It's a scary world out there

artist
Name: Shaheen Kashmandur/Alias: Jean
Archetype: Lurk > Cutter
Crew: Shadows, or anything besides Cult
Look: Female; chiseled, dark, scarred, striking; sharp trousers, soft boots, vest, hood and veil (as needed)
Heritage: Iruvia; trained from a young age in the ways of the Sandmen, an ancient order of Iruvian warriors.
Background: Military; her family has long been associated with the Sandmen.
Vice: Pleasure/Purveyor: Rolan Volaris; the Veil is arguably safer than any Whitecrown estate. Rolan doesn't allow any violence or other outside business in the club, and his security enforces that policy with swift and lethal stringency.

Backstory: For centuries, the honorable Sandmen were the guardians of Iruvia's people, from peasant to pharaoh. The sprawling Kashmandur clan is the birthplace of the Sandmen's most famous heroes, and home to the last people in the whole world who believe the order is still relevant. It barely exists at all; the modern group is effectively a subset of the Imperial garrison, reserved for locals who can't be safely reassigned somewhere else.
As the second daughter of a second son in the Kashmandur hierarchy, Shaheen had a combination of prestige and redundancy that made her idea for the Sandmen. She received intense training in the arts of war until the age of seventeen, when she fled Iruvia for Duskwall. She's survived five years in the city largely because the underground life turned her suspicions into beliefs: all morals are flexible, honor is an illusion, and trust is for people who think a sword in the gut cuts deeper than a knife in the back. She never goes anywhere without a way out, and never gets close to anyone she can't kill.

Hooks: Jean has essentially cast aside her Iruvian heritage; she doesn't use her birth name, her Akorosi is flawless, and her accent is more suited for the Silkshore social clubs than the souqs of Sunfall. It's possible that her family is looking for her, but unless circumstances in Iruvia have changed dramatically, she's probably been disowned and forgotten, which is just fine by her. Still, she's easily identifiable as foreign by any Skovlander refugee or drunken Imperial looking to pick a fight with a Stranger.

Captain Walker fucked around with this message at 23:45 on Aug 9, 2019

Krysmphoenix
Jul 29, 2010


Name: Kaja
Alias: Azar
Archetype: Cutter
Look: Woman/Concealed, Fierce, Lovely, Fitted Dress, Hood & Veil, Loose Silks
Heritage: Iruvian
Background: "Occult", raised by a demon
Vice / Purveyor: Obligation/Pleasure, The Red Lamp (Madame Tesslin)

Too many people would sell their souls to have a demon under their command, to fulfill their every whim, to keep as a beast on a chain to enforce their rule. The young Kaja was perfectly happy to serve, and later learn how to protect, a demon. The one she called 'Mother'.

Kaja never knew her own birth parents, but things not of them. Mother tended to her needs, and kindly asked for assistance in return. Simple mortal matters at first: purchase these reagents, deface that rune, watch the man around the corner. Her loyalty in protecting Mother was rewarded in warmth. In Mother's eyes she had truly become worthy of being called a daughter, and not merely a helpful pet. For years, it was all Kaja wanted...until the man came back. A djinni trapped within a lamp, at his every command.

All she knew of the man was he came from Doskvol, but the trail ran cold the moment she stepped off the train. Mother had wise and powerful friends who could use her sword just as much, though the coin never warmed her soul quite the same. Still, it was enough to expand her search. As long as she used her Mother's name - Azar - someone would blink in surprise, and then she could have her revenge.



Crew? Shadows feel too 'default', let's have some fun and get crazy~

Ferrosol
Nov 8, 2010

Notorious J.A.M


Name: Mara Tyrconnell
Alias: Pennywise
Archetype Slide
Look: Woman, Hooded Coat, heavy jacket, work trousers
Heritage: Akros
Background: Old nobility
Vice/purveyor: Gambling, Helene's

Once long ago the Tyrconnell's were a force to be reckoned with, fleets of leviathan hunters sailed at their command and their wealth drew a mix of awe and envy from the whole city. However those days are now long gone. House Tyrconnell is but a shadow of its former self that glorious legacy being reduced to one decaying family mansion from which the furniture has to be sold to fend off creditors. In a desperate bid to restore some of the family fortune the current Lord Tyrconnell hit on a clever solution. Marry his daughter off to one of the wealthy social-climbing merchants, the merchant would gain social status and he would gain funds to fend off the family creditors for a few more years. The plan might have worked had he bothered consulting with his daughter first.

Mara didn't oppose the general idea of her fathers plans. But she did draw the line at her fathers preferred candidate. The man was ancient, for the gods sake! and had several adult children who would resent her, he also bathed far too infrequently for her taste. No, she was not going to marry him! In one last desperate gamble she absconded from the family mansion with a portion of her dowry.,

Not long after a mysterious hooded figure going by "Pennywise" appeared on the streets. She seemed determined to live life to the fullest as if seeking to make up for lost time. She seems to particularly find delight in the card tables of the casinos. Losing and winning fortunes over several nights she quickly became addicted to the rattling of dice or flopping of cards. Still to play at the levels she played at has sparked some speculation as to where her starting funds came from. Especially since she seems to watch each new player like a hawk as if debating fight or flight....


Insight
Hunt
Study *
Survey *
Tinker

Prowess
Finesse
Prowl
Skirmish
Wreck

Resolve
Attune
Command *
Consort * *
Sway **

Special Abilities
Like Looking into a Mirror: You can always tell when someone is lying to you.

Friends
▲ Nyryx, a prostitute. Something of a mentor and a friend to Mara, Nyryx has taught her that a woman can sometimes get further with a sly wink and an innuendo than a pistol and a knife.
▼ Bazso Baz, a gang leader. Bazo Baz became infatuated with Mara and she for her part shared some of her affections with him. However it took some heavy hints and eventually some large gentlemen with clubs making pointed threats before Baz got the message she wasn't that interested. Hell hath no fury like a man scorned.

Crew wise I'd prefer hawkers or shadows but anythings good really.

Ferrosol fucked around with this message at 23:04 on Aug 16, 2019

Waador
Sep 11, 2001

Smashin' down the light.
Pillbug
Alias: Nocturne Red


Heritage: Tycheros
↳ Demonic telltale
My voice is a natural harmony, due to having three sets of vocal chords.
I need not open my mouth to speak, and if I do not, my voice seems to emanate from some source deep within.


Name: Lochlainn Lammergeier
Archetype: Hound (ghost hunter)
Look: Ambiguous // Calm, Cold, Dark // Flame-scarred Raincoat
Background: Law (novice Tycherosi Spirit Warden)
Vice / Purveyor: Obligation to Arkene, the Warden who saved my life, recruited me, and trained me.
Crew Preference: Shadows or Smugglers

pre:
Attributes
Insight			[••]
  Hunt			••◦◦		[0 base + 2 class]
  Study			◦◦◦◦		[0 base]
  Survey		•◦◦◦		[0 base + 1 class]
  Tinker		◦◦◦◦		[0 base]

Prowess			[••••]
  Finesse		•◦◦◦		[1 base]
  Prowl			•◦◦◦		[1 base]
  Skirmish		•◦◦◦		[1 base]
  Wreck			•◦◦◦		[1 base]

Resolve			[◦]
  Attune		◦◦◦◦		[0 base]
  Command		◦◦◦◦		[0 base]
  Consort		◦◦◦◦		[0 base]
  Sway			◦◦◦◦		[0 base]

Special Abilities
Ghost Hunter		[•◦]
  > Your hunting pet gains potency when tracking or fighting the supernatural.
  > [Arcane Ability] Mindlink - allows the pet and hunter to share their senses and thoughts telepathically.
  > Functions as a cohort (Expert: Hunter).

ContactsShrike, a Spirit Warden who watches over the Charterhall district.
  She's on good terms with Arkene back in Tycheros, and is my only connection to the Wardens in Duskvol.
▼ Adelaide Laughingsteel, the navigator on the Bowmore's leviathan hunter ship that smuggled me into Duskvol.
  He cheats at dice, I broke his arm. Mistakes were made.
Background
I've always taken it for granted that I'm fighting the good fight, I guess mostly due to my faith in Arkene. But I have to admit, out here on my own, I take a lot of liberties. I tell myself they're all justified, but isn't that what everybody tells themselves? Does anybody wake up thinking, 'Today, I'm going to cross the line'?

You want to know about my past? I don't even know where to begin. If Doskvol is a city teetering on the edge of the abyss, my homeland - Tycheros - is a place in freefall. There's only one way to explain it, and it will probably come off as condescending: you think that your city is dark, and foreboding. You believe that it is rife with crime, grime, and corruption. As easy as it is to believe that, you don't understand just how much worse things can still get.

I was ten years old when death came for me, in the form of a group of rogue spirits rampaging through the tenement housing that I lived in with what passed for family. Painful, and terrifying, but in all honesty not an uncommon way to die. Call it a cultural trait, or perhaps the broken spirit of an exhausted people, but up until that day I had always thought of fate as an iron lattice -- intricate, but rigidly unchangeable. That was until some force bent fate's bars to spare my life. Its name was Arkene. Homeless and twice-orphaned, I would have likely starved to death if he hadn't taken pity on me.

The passage of time in Tycheros is a funny thing. It's not that it flows differently, but it certainly feels like it does. By any real measure, it has been over fifteen years since that night, but it feels like a lifetime. I left Tycheros because, well ... when you're a culture in freefall, really, how do you climb back out of the abyss? Were we even helping anyone? I couldn't tell, and when I realized that, I knew I couldn't do it any more. Making my way to Doskvol was no easy task, but now that I'm here, I need to build a new life for myself. I don't think I'll ever be able to turn my back on who and what I was taught to be, but I know that I need to be something more than just that.



On Wings of Fear (Cohort: Pazu)
If you aren't particularly familiar with the ecology of Tycheros, Pazu will tell you everything you need to know. A winged terror capable of manipulating the raw aether of the ghost field, her favorite tactic is to use her massive frame to drop on prey from above with crushing force. Reared from an egg, a decade's worth of training stands between us and her more violent impulses. Whether or not you find that particularly comforting is entirely up to you.
pre:
  > Pazu (Expert: Hunter).
     ↳ Quality Tier + 1 / Scale 0
     ↳ [Edge] Fearsome - the cohort is terrifying in aspect and reputation.
     ↳ [Edge] Loyal - the cohort can’t be bribed or turned against you.
     ↳ [Flaw] Principled - the cohort has an ethic or values that it won’t betray.
     ↳ [Flaw] Savage - the cohort is excessively violent and cruel.


Duty. (Obligation: Arkene)
Not all obligations are created equally. Family members, coworkers, political movements ... that's the easy stuff. Even in this nightmare of a world where the ghosts of the dead can rise from their corpses, family members and coworkers eventually move on to whatever passes for the 'next life'. Meanwhile, political movements either succeed, or, well, they're crushed. Either way, those sort of obligations all have finite ends to them, and even if you're shattered and broken when that end comes, you can still try to pick up the pieces and move on with your life.

Arkene saved my life, and I'm thankful for that, but my debt to him runs deeper by a mile. He took me in, and gave me place in the world ... maybe not the place I would have chosen as a child, all things considered, but it was more than anyone else had done for me at the time. Looking back, a cynic might say that was just the bait on the hook, but I know better, and honestly, that's barely scratching the surface of the real story. He didn't just save me, or take me in, or treat me a bit better than anyone else had bothered. He taught me how to survive in a world full of monsters. He showed me the staggering price required to do so without becoming a monster myself. He taught me that price was worth it. He taught me our duty. Our curse. Our pact. Our life.

Let me ask you something: have you ever saved someone? Do you even have any idea what that feels like, to know that someone is still alive and breathing because of an action you took, a choice you made, a contingency you were prepared for? My debt to Arkene isn't anything so mundane as to do what I'm told when he comes calling ... though admittedly, I imagine he would expect me to fall in line if our paths crossed again. That's just interest due on the loan, though, barely anything in comparison. At my most vulnerable moment, Arkene showed me that the iron bars of fate could be bent, and then he spent a decade teaching me how to bend them for myself. At this point, he doesn't need to tell me to do anything, and he knows it. What he taught me to do is a powerful narcotic, and like any addict, there's a drat good chance I'll spend my entire life chasing the next hit until it kills me.

That's part of who I am, and I'm at peace with that. I just hope that I can find something else in Duskvol, to round my life out. Friends, maybe? Coworkers, even. Hell, maybe I'll join a cult, see what that's like for a bit. I just need to be around different perspectives once in a while. I'm willing to die for what I believe in, but I'm smart enough to know that tunnel vision on a single goal will get me killed, and who does that help?
pre:
  > Obligation (Arkene)
     ↳ [+3] Ally to bystanders and innocent victims. I will help them even if it's not in my best interest to do so.
     ↳ [+2] Friendly to the Duskvol spirit wardens. I will help them if it doesn't create serious problems for me.
     ↳ [-1] Unfriendly to any behavior likely to result in the improper disposal of bodies.
     ↳ [-2] Hostile to malevolent spirits. I will look for opportunities to hurt them as long as it doesn’t create serious problems for me.

Waador fucked around with this message at 18:02 on Aug 16, 2019

Tricky Dick Nixon
Jul 26, 2010

by Nyc_Tattoo
Smugglers wins the vote, confirming the crew type. The finer details of the crew will be determined later, but now we have a clearer idea of what sort of dirty business our characters will be getting up to.

I will now be soft closing applications. If you have posted your interest here or come on the Discord already, that is enough, but now is the time to start finalizing character sheets and backgrounds. This Friday I will do some sheet and background feedback and maybe some followup questions for folks, and make final selections on Friday, August 23rd, so there's still plenty of time.

Mors Rattus
Oct 25, 2007

FATAL & Friends
Walls of Text
#1 Builder
2014-2018



Name: Ardashir Jaravani
Alias: Dash
Archetype: Cutter or Hound, Lurk if needed.
Look: Man / Affable, Wiry, Athletic / Slim Jacket, Suspenders
Heritage: Iruvian, third generation immigrant.
Background: Underworld, raised on the streets and dreaming of making it big in the organized crime families his sisters and aunts got into.
Vice / Purveyor: Obligation. The Jaravanis are a rising star in an Iruvian organized crime family, and Dash is paying his dues to Handsome Razhid, a middle-ranking member of the family (and his brother-in-law, having married his sister Vira). Dash resents how little credit Razhid seems to give him.

Background
The Jaravanis are Iruvian, though most of the youngest generation has never been outside Duskvol. The family's matriarch, Azar, is now in her seventies and, while sharp as a knife, physically infirm. Her husband, a simple cobbler, was unable to provide well for their large family by himself, which led Azar into the business of forgery - lucrative, if risky - and thus into the Iruvian crime family known as the Night Sheikhs by most of the rest of the city. (Among themselves, they prefer the Sisterhood of Night - a remnant of an old religious sect whose tenets are mostly forgotten and remain only in the family's various ritual initiations and greetings.) Azar's sons and daughters largely followed their mother into the business, with those who lacked the stomach for it mostly working, like their father, as cobblers.

Azar's daughter, Nahid, was only mildly criminal. She ran a safehouse, with members of the Night Sheikhs coming and staying for a time when they had nowhere else to turn or needed somewhere to hide. This is where young Dash and his four sisters grew up, among tales of crime and criminals. Dash's eldest sister (a full 15 years his elder), Vira, ended up marrying one of the Sheikh's rising stars, Handsome Razhid. Dash had always been close to his sister, viewing her as his idol. From her, he learned to fight, mastering the knife and the art of street combat. It's not pretty or formal, but Vira became famous as the Dancing Blade in her youth, and Dash hopes to one day be able to match her. Unfortunately, he and Razhid don't really get along. While Vira and his other sisters have always encouraged Dash, they made it clear that he had an obligation to support both the family and the Night Sheikhs, who have done so much for them. This would be fine if that didn't mean reporting to Razhid for his work.

Razhid is a glory hound, after all, and while he always has plenty for Dash to do - indeed, the work seems almost neverending sometimes - he takes credit for most of young Ardashir's deeds and rarely mentions him to the higher ups. Dash is an ambitious young man, hoping to rise in the esteem of both the Night Sheikhs and his own family, and to do that he's going to have to make a name for himself...without risking Razhid's position, upsetting the Sheikhs, or angering his sister, grandmother or various aunts and uncles.

Mors Rattus fucked around with this message at 16:59 on Aug 12, 2019

Tricky Dick Nixon
Jul 26, 2010

by Nyc_Tattoo
A few folks thought it might be better to focus on the backstories and the like before doing the sheets and do that after selections. I don't mind this. However, if you have a very strong preference for an archetype, I invite you to complete the sheet and make that selection. Please do include in your submission a backstory, their vice, motivations etc. for me to take into account, as well as your preference for different archetypes and options. Again, to be clear, I don't need a full character sheet, just a backstory and details.

I am going to shift the deadlines slightly so we have time to go over character sheets after selection. First round of feedback will be this Thursday, August 15th, and the final selection will be Wednesday, August 21st.

Tardzilla
Aug 31, 2006



Name: Nerissa Thorn
Alias: Viper
Archetype: Leech
Look: Woman; Brooding, Dark, Scarred; Hooded coat, Long scarf, Soft boots
Heritage: Tycheros
Telltale: Snake-like fangs. Scaly skin.
Background: Academic (Former student and foster daughter of Aldric Thorn, a professor who teaches at Doskvol Academy)
Vice / Purveyor: Weird/Pleasure (Mordis, a merchant covered in robes and hoods who deals in occult and arcane good, which Nerissa uses to experiment on herself; Nightmarket.)

Insight ••
Hunt
Study •
Survey
Tinker ••

Prowess ••
Finesse
Prowl •
Skirmish
Wreck •

Resolve ••
Attune •
Command
Consort
Sway •

Special Abilities
  • Alchemist: When you invent or craft a creation with alchemical features, you get +1 result level to your roll (a 1-3 becomes a 4/5, etc.). You begin with one special formula already known.
Friends
▲ Stazia, an apothecary. Another who shares Nerissa's interest in alchemy, and one of the few who Nerissa respects. She and her have spent nights working on various formulas together.
▼ Veldren, a psychonaut. A former student and bully now turned addict unable to return to lucid thoughts. He "borrowed" Nerissa's concoctions, and drank them all even after she warned him. Sent him spiraling down a hole he never recovered from, and blames Nerissa for everything.

Background

Nerissa was always a strange girl. Found washed up ashore as a young girl, she was taken in and raised by Aldric Thorn, a professor from Doskvol Academy. Not much is known about her past before she was found by the professor. She doesn't remember her parents, her home, or even how she ended up in her situation. It's all nothing but a black mist in her mind, and any attempts made to recall her past memories are met with a throbbing headache. The only thing she does know for sure is that she was originally from Tycheros, but how she ended up from there to Doskvol is a mystery to her.

Growing up in the academy, she was someone who the other students had avoided. The scars on her face, the coldness of her eyes, and her moody demeanor did not exactly make her the most popular person there, but none of that matters to her. No, if there was one thing that brought the spark back to her eyes, it was alchemy. To her, alchemy was more than just a science, it was an artform. The ways the chemicals mix together, how they can change forms into something entirely new, the different effects they had on the body, they all fascinated her. But it wasn't until when she drank one of her chemicals that her obsession intensified. The cloud that had been in her mind for so long began to clear a little, giving her the smallest glimpse into her past, and from there, she started experimenting on more dangerous substances, such as various kinds of poisons, on herself, going further than she ever did.

Her surrogate father did not approve of his daugther's experiments, but he wasn't the only one. There were shadows watching her, and she knew she could not continue to do what she was doing in the academy anymore. She needed more freedom, and so she left, and ended up joining a group that would benefit her, and give her what she needed. Their smuggling operation was the perfect thing for Nerissa. It gave her access to materials that were otherwise hard for her to get, and she had the freedom to do what she wanted, away from prying eyes.

Tardzilla fucked around with this message at 13:21 on Aug 13, 2019

Tricky Dick Nixon
Jul 26, 2010

by Nyc_Tattoo
It's early, but I've got some time and I'm going to give some feedback and prompts for those that finished. Those still working on their sheet can feel free to answer the two generic prompts below. I'm not expecting extremely in-depth answers, just a quick expression of your character and how they picture themselves, and a hook for why they might have formed into a crew.

To all, feel free to answer the following two prompts:
  • With an anecdote, tell us when your character realized they needed a crew. Maybe it was a score they tried to put on that was bad. Maybe it was something more introspective, but there was a moment where it clicked that you needed to band together. It's possible this isn't the first crew or gang you've run along with, and maybe you even had partnerships (potentially with other PCs, we'll have a chance to build on those connections later) with individuals, but you've never really been a "founder" before of a real venture. This is something special, so tell us what brought your character to that decision and how they look at it.

  • Describe a score the crew might undertake, and the role your character would play. It can be from your character's perspective, or more detached. It can be relatively simple and straightforward, or have many twists and turns along the way. The important thing to communicate is where you (and the character) would see themselves fitting in with a team dynamic. When the spotlight is on them, how do they perform? What is the one unique thing they bring to the crew that no one else quite has?
The following will be only one-half of the submissions thus far. I'll get the other half down hopefully later tonight.

Heliotrope posted:

Hira "Crow" Gadhavi

Feedback: You might think of adopting a different alias. There's a gang called the Crows that (especially with your connection to Baszo) will likely feature. Two recommendations I might make would be Jackdaw if you want to keep within the corvids, but Starling might be interesting especially since you are a Slide because of their impersonation skills and sleek coats (much like your sense of fashion). It's not a big deal though: Crow works fine, it'll just come off as common.

Prompt: Tell me about what you stole from the royal house of Anixis. It must have been precious enough that you can never return to Iruvia due to the weight of it, but it must have also not been valuable enough to guarantee the life you wanted for yourself. Or perhaps it was difficult on your own to capitalize on the fortune it could have been. Perhaps it was even taken away from you, or you were cheated in some way, being unfamiliar with Akoros and out of your element? That might have finely honed your bullshit detector ability.

Tricky posted:

Elizabeth "Cosette" Strangford

Feedback: A minor correction in that the Strangfords are based on a private island near the Charhollow district rather than Brightstone, where they profit immensely off the misery of the workhouses there from their house on a hill. On the subject of her noble heritage, with the way lifestyles work in this game, yours won't be particularly better than your fellow street-thieves. Since her motivation was to "escape" her father's estate, it makes sense that at the beginning of the game, she may be still adjusting to living without her old life above her, which is a good hook, but I just wanted to make clear that despite being a former noble, she won't be able to call upon those privileges overmuch.

Prompt: How did you learn the secret of the ghost contract? Was it some occult ritual that you dug up from texts? Or is it something more innate, that you developed? If the former, where did you delve, and what dangerous writings did you let infect your mind? If the latter, how did you discover the talent, and then develop it into something you could command, and control? Your Attune rating indicates at least some talent with interacting with the ghost field and an interest in that. There would be many resources at hand for a Strangford, but they all come with strings attached, whether by book or by blood.

Rather Watch Them posted:

Henrig "Jones" Dimorgen

Feedback: I notice that in your background you discriminate on your victims, picking the pockets of nobles but using violence and mugging laborers. The difference in degrees is interesting to me. Is there an intent there in expressing how Henrig relates with the rest of the underclass he is a part of? If intentional, I'd like to see that play out a bit, it's interesting to me. If unintentional, it might be worth thinking about it as a potential element for your character.

Prompt: Pick any two districts in Duskwall and describe for us Henrig following their "jones" there. They could be adjacent neighborhoods or far apart, that's up to you. I'd like to see you express Jones' relationship to the city in this way, how they navigate and find their means of travel, and what it
"looks" like to use the reader when the city speaks back.

Scrree posted:

Tristaine "Scrape" Edda

Feedback: Both your Vice and Backstory are good, but they don't quite intersect. Rather, it's not really mentioned how you found yourself in the employ of a noble, and how its being used essentially as blackmail in its obligation to keep your younger sibling safe. It's a good motivation, but needs a bit more coloring in. We could color it in play, but I'd still want something to chew on as to how it affects her, as from reading the backstory, it seems she's motivated more by her desire for wealth. And that's fine! Maybe even a Gambling Vice with her attachment to the arena could be represented there, that she's willing to put her life on the line for coin and that gives her a thrill. Just as interesting though would be having her motivations towards wealth and power being dampened by obligation to a family member, which reading between the lines is what I think you originally intended but could be developed a bit more.

Prompt: Tell us your favorite story of your people. With your sheet opening with overtures to the myth of Skovlan and heroic pretensions, it feels like it would hang over Tristaine a bit the stories of her grandmother, and help inspire her. Give us a taste of a particular story. Give us at least a beginning, middle, and end to it, though it needed be fully written out. What's more important is how it influenced her, and why she finds herself thinking about it. What lessons do such folk tales still have?

Theantero posted:

Arnaud "Hexe" DeFitch

Feedback: Dunslough tends to be inhabited mostly by the truly destitute, or the families of prisoners and forced laborers. Was that the source of your poverty? With your concept, you may also consider Barrowcleft, which while a bit less poor, has a sort of clannish and rustic mentality that suits your hedge wizard concept.

Prompt: Give us a unique, mystical solution to a problem. Specifically, the kind of problem a hedge wizard like yourself might be drawn to. You've given out poultices and charms and all that, but this should be something a bit more formative, something a bit more challenging. It should give us an idea of the character of Arnaud's talents.


Feedback: The central motivation of Naradar seems to focus around their affliction. Are they driven primarily by a desperate desire to return to how they were? If so, do they have anything to return to? Did they have a family, loved ones or peers that would accept them back? Or is there an element of revenge as well? Who do they blame for what happened? Themselves, or others? Given some color to this might give us a clearer idea of how Naradar relates to their condition.

Prompt: Tell us the next ingredient on your list. You have a list, don't you? Of terribly foreign, exotic, and dangerous substances you will want to put together to try and reverse the condition you suffer under? We don't have to detail it all out, but give us the seed of a score, something precious and monstrous that Rasp would risk himself to attain, just for the chance it may be part of the panacea he craves.

Davin Valkri posted:

Milos "Othello" Bonadventuros

Feedback: A classic concept and motivation, and we discussed on Discord how the Dagger Isles might play the sort of banking role described. What is less clear is what talents Milos himself has. You've got pretty flexible choices as far as archetype, but it would help to get a sense of the character to find out what they have that would be unique. This ties into the general prompt, but more than anything I'm curious as to what kind of criminal Milos would be.

Prompt: Give us the names of whom you hold as most to blame for your estrangement. Is it a relative, a rival, or perhaps something even more external? The blame might even be distributed among many names and faces. The one person I think we can be sure has no blame is Milos himself, of course. But getting a sense of this would give us a bit of a sketch of Milos's situation, and how he might plan to claw out of it.

deadking posted:

Roethe "Nail" Keel

Feedback: Dagger Islanders are described as copper-skinned and superstitious, with an exotic flavor compared to the Akorosi in addition to their maritime culture. Roethe in name, appearance, and background reads mostly as an Akorosi. I would like to see maybe a little more Dagger Islander influence, maybe some strange habits or superstitions earned from living without the protection of lightning fences, alongside spirits rather than separate from them. Another possibility might be that Roethe is descended from Akorosi expats who settled in the Isles for some reason, though he identifies with the land he grew up rather than the one his family distantly comes from.

Prompt: Tell us what you lost in the war that you can never get back. It doesn't need to be profound. It could be something like a favorite flask. The easy answer is something like "innocence" but in the sunless world of the Shattered Isles, it's unlikely Roethe was all that innocent even before they were drafted into the Unity War. Something was lost, carved out of them. It's different than the emptiness of being far from home, now a deserter, missing a family that may have already moved on. It's something a little more personal, something that affects their person, that craves to be filled.

Tricky Dick Nixon fucked around with this message at 18:23 on Aug 15, 2019

Tricky
Jun 12, 2007

after a great meal i like to lie on the ground and feel like garbage


Tricky Dick Nixon posted:

To all, feel free to answer the following two prompts:
With an anecdote, tell us when your character realized they needed a crew. Maybe it was a score they tried to put on that was bad. Maybe it was something more introspective, but there was a moment where it clicked that you needed to band together. It's possible this isn't the first crew or gang you've run along with, and maybe you even had partnerships (potentially with other PCs, we'll have a chance to build on those connections later) with individuals, but you've never really been a "founder" before of a real venture. This is something special, so tell us what brought your character to that decision and how they look at it.

For my part, I've imagined Cosette's introduction to the crew as almost Nick Fury-esqe. Perhaps arranging a score through Salia, bringing in the various PCs for their relevant talents, and the whole thing going off well enough to suggest that they stick together to make the crew a going concern. While her network is quite good and that implies some prior experience in the underworld, I'd lean towards the formation of the crew proper being the first time she was in the thick of things rather than consulting or otherwise facilitating connections from the shadows.

---

In the flickering candlelight of Lord Strangford's hidden study, Elizabeth looks with no little horror at the cramped scrawl filling the pages of her father's notes. Musings on topics too arcane to decipher in the moment, though ominous to the extreme. The subtle references to progeny and their uses are not lost upon her, though the exact end to the means is. She takes a deep breath, her eyes narrowing with determination, "So that's all I'm useful for, is it? We'll see about that."

Placing everything exactly as she'd found it, Elizabeth slips out back into the library. The hidden door slides shut behind her, latches and mechanisms springing back into place, and she walks back to her room. Thoughts race through her mind all the while. The Strangford House, clearly, is no place for her any longer. She's played the game long enough to have friends and favors aplenty, it just falls to calling in the proper resources for the job. The question is who to trust.

There's a slight hitch in Elizabeth's step as it comes to her: Salia. They'd done business on occasion: information is always the greatest of weapons, even when it comes to high society. She'd have to offload what fungible assets she could spirit away, but that should provide some form of off-the-grid accommodations. Her expertise would surely prove useful, as would her connections, so perhaps Salia would be able to point her in the direction of a job in need of such skills. Not a long-term solution, to be sure, but it'd be a step. If her suppositions are correct... well, it'd take a rather large organization to deal with all of that. Ideally, one where she's on top, but a partnership of mutual gain would work in a pinch.

Elizabeth breezes past servants, seeming to be utterly unconcerned with the world, stopping only to accost a maid. She says, "Have some ink and parchment brought to my room. Oh, and some of that delightful roast."

No harm in having one last meal, of course, given the situation Elizabeth would soon find herself facing. It'd also afford the opportunity to send a missive to Salia via messenger bat and begin some of the necessary arrangements.


quote:

Describe a score the crew might undertake, and the role your character would play. It can be from your character's perspective, or more detached. It can be relatively simple and straightforward, or have many twists and turns along the way. The important thing to communicate is where you (and the character) would see themselves fitting in with a team dynamic. When the spotlight is on them, how do they perform? What is the one unique thing they bring to the crew that no one else quite has?

One of the most interesting ideas about a group of smugglers, to me, is bypassing the cordon of guards and the lightning fences one way or another. Getting things out to a group of Deathland raiders or, conversely, smuggling in some truly unusual finds for the discerning Duskvol connoisseurs. The big question, of course, is how that'd be done. The answer? Networking. More than anything else, Cosette brings a level of having fingers in every pie that nobody else can on the crew. They need an in with the guards on rotation? She knows a guy who knows a guy. Hell, maybe she has an identity ready and can get a transfer approved to be manning the fence come time for transit.

With the addition of Ghost Contract to her toolbox, I also see some really fruitful opportunities for flashbacks. When all seems lost and the crew cornered by the bluecoats, all it takes is flashing back to arranging a bribe... and then the camera panning down to show the stylized nine-legged spider mark somewhere on the lieutenant. So Cosette will always be more on the social end of things, even in remarkably weird situations once she's expanded into Ghost Voice and the like, but in a way that allows her to be right there with the rest of the team... or to reveal herself, disguised and infiltrated, when the time is right.

---

Disguised in a stolen bluecoat uniform, Cosette inspects the Cutter's credentials with a skeptical gaze. She'd 'transferred in' from Crow's Foot, according to the documentation she'd provided, and a few shifts with the bluecoats was a small price to pay to ensure that their cargo — highly illegal flora from the Deathlands, they'd arranged a buyer in Nightmarket — made it through this checkpoint without drawing attention. The others had been easy enough to bribe, but the lieutenant here was a known hard-rear end. The only way to be sure was to be in position herself.

After a moment longer, she waves him through. Cosette says, "Your papers are in order. Get moving before I bring you in for blocking traffic."

Inwardly, she sighs with relief. Just as planned. The rest of the shift is remarkably uneventful, though she does take the opportunity to make life quite difficult for some of their rivals. It takes a smuggler to find one, as they say. She gracefully loses a nominal amount at cards, drinks some swill with the rest of the guards, and vanishes once the shift is up. The identity will have to be burned, unfortunately, but it's more than made up for the effort of establishing it.


quote:

Feedback: A minor correction in that the Strangfords are based on a private island near the Charhollow district rather than Brightstone, where they profit immensely off the misery of the workhouses there from their house on a hill. On the subject of her noble heritage, with the way lifestyles work in this game, yours won't be particularly better than your fellow street-thieves. Since her motivation was to "escape" her father's estate, it makes sense that at the beginning of the game, she may be still adjusting to living without her old life above her, which is a good hook, but I just wanted to make clear that despite being a former noble, she won't be able to call upon those privileges overmuch.

As we discussed in the discord, absolutely no issues adjusting that, I just got a little mislead by Lord Strangford getting written up in Brightstone. I agree that Elizabeth isn't mechanically or narratively going to have the lifestyle she was formerly accustomed to, though I think that her connections and playbook loadout items — fine cover identities, blueprints aplenty, fine whiskey, etc — do imply some level of access to wealth. Or a twisting web of off-screen favors, I suppose, which does make sense with the Spider. I'd imagine that whatever access she has to the estate's money without raising any flags is tied up in the maintenance of those assets, hence her lifestyle rolls being tied to the crew.

quote:

Prompt: How did you learn the secret of the ghost contract? Was it some occult ritual that you dug up from texts? Or is it something more innate, that you developed? If the former, where did you delve, and what dangerous writings did you let infect your mind? If the latter, how did you discover the talent, and then develop it into something you could command, and control? Your Attune rating indicates at least some talent with interacting with the ghost field and an interest in that. There would be many resources at hand for a Strangford, but they all come with strings attached, whether by book or by blood.

Elizabeth has always had a taste for the occult. She's often traveled to Nightmarket to shop for the bizarre and arcane, even prior to her entry to the life. The book — Codex Ennead — was an early find. It's been a constant companion ever since. She's quite certain that the ghost contract, while certainly tremendously useful, is only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the secrets it might contain. Study, particularly with the aid of further items of arcane import, is likely to unearth further techniques that will help her along the path.

There is, of course, the small matter of the whispers that have taken root within her. Quiet, unobtrusive, but inescapable. When all is silent, that is when they're the most noticeable. Some prompt action, the sort of power consolidating that Elizabeth sees fit to do already. Others... others have stranger desires. She's never sated those, at least not of yet, but perhaps the taste for power will see the calculus surrounding such a decision change.

Tricky fucked around with this message at 21:17 on Aug 14, 2019

Mors Rattus
Oct 25, 2007

FATAL & Friends
Walls of Text
#1 Builder
2014-2018

Tricky Dick Nixon posted:

It's early, but I've got some time and I'm going to give some feedback and prompts for those that finished. Those still working on their sheet can feel free to answer the two generic prompts below. I'm not expecting extremely in-depth answers, just a quick expression of your character and how they picture themselves, and a hook for why they might have formed into a crew.

To all, feel free to answer the following two prompts:
With an anecdote, tell us when your character realized they needed a crew. Maybe it was a score they tried to put on that was bad. Maybe it was something more introspective, but there was a moment where it clicked that you needed to band together. It's possible this isn't the first crew or gang you've run along with, and maybe you even had partnerships (potentially with other PCs, we'll have a chance to build on those connections later) with individuals, but you've never really been a "founder" before of a real venture. This is something special, so tell us what brought your character to that decision and how they look at it.

I've never really done a crew thing before. I mean, I've run jobs for my family and Razhid - I don't care what my sister says, he's not family until he acts like it - but the thing about those is you take orders. You don't question 'em. You improvise, sure, you help, maybe even offer up your thoughts. Not that Razhid generally cares about my thoughts unless they make him look good. But the thing here is, no shot calling. And if you aren't calling shots, you aren't making a name for yourself. Oh, sure, maybe folks remember that I fought off three guards to let the courier escape. But they never learned my name from that. And going solo?

First thing grandma taught all of us: you don't go solo. If you go it alone, there's no one to catch when you fall. I learned that one the hard way. Tried to do some volunteer work, grab a shipment of drugs from the docks and bring it back to make my name. Now, I can fight, I'm decent at making friends and scaring people. But none of that matters when you're trying to convince a dock official that you're a customs inspector. Sure, he liked me, but I didn't know the patter, didn't have the words a customs man should have. It got worse when I tried to break in - the captain had set up some kind of ghost guardian, and...well. It was skin of my teeth that I got out at all, let alone alive. A partner would've saved my skin - and a crew could've made that disaster into a success. I know that much because I've seen what a solid team can do working with the family.

So there you have it - after I got out of the docks with my soul intact, no small thanks to the Bluecoats raiding the docks and distracting everyone, I knew I had to get myself onto a team - and as a shot caller. There's no other way I'm going to make the Sisterhood recognize my worth, especially if I stick to my plan of not pissing off Razhid.

quote:

Describe a score the crew might undertake, and the role your character would play. It can be from your character's perspective, or more detached. It can be relatively simple and straightforward, or have many twists and turns along the way. The important thing to communicate is where you (and the character) would see themselves fitting in with a team dynamic. When the spotlight is on them, how do they perform? What is the one unique thing they bring to the crew that no one else quite has?[/list]

I know I'm not really a mastermind. I'm still learning the ropes when it comes to planning jobs. But I'm at home anywhere, and that means I can do my work anywhere. Get me a suit and I can play bodyguard at a fancy party. Point me at a squad of guards and I can distract 'em with my stunning looks, quick wit and quick blade. That's the thing of it: I'm muscle, but people like me. Now, grandma says that if you have to kill, something's usually gone wrong. I agree. But that's not the same a s fighting - or having the threat of a fight or a kill. I know how to dance with a blade, and that makes me versatile. There's no such thing as a job that doesn't need muscle, because there's no such thing as a job that can't go wrong. Now, when it comes to ghosts and demons, that'd be tricky. But when you need someone who can move where needed and handle people in an emergency? That's where I come in. I can drop them or I can chat them up - and either one can solve a problem in a pinch.

That's my skillset. I solve emergency problems. Plus, you know, I know the job. Sometimes you need to plan for a fight to begin with, or you need a distraction. But that's obvious stuff. Obviously, yes, I can take out a guard or distract a group with my stunning repartee. Don't ask me to maintain a long con or a heavy disguise, but...well, people like me. I'm a sparkling smile hiding a blade, as my grandmother would say.

Well, she'd say it in Iruvian, but I don't think you understand that?

Theantero
Nov 6, 2011

...We danced the Mamushka while Nero fiddled, we danced the Mamushka at Waterloo. We danced the Mamushka for Jack the Ripper, and now, Fester Addams, this Mamushka is for you....

Tricky Dick Nixon posted:

Feedback: Dunslough tends to be inhabited mostly by the truly destitute, or the families of prisoners and forced laborers. Was that the source of your poverty? With your concept, you may also consider Barrowcleft, which while a bit less poor, has a sort of clannish and rustic mentality that suits your hedge wizard concept.

Yeah, I supposed Barrowcleft fits better with the theme and aesthetic, and I'll be changing into that. The source of Arnaud's family's poverty is not really a driving motivation, and is really just a conceit to get him where he is. His wish to break free from said poverty and the consequences of his mistakes is a more important character motivation.

Tricky Dick Nixon posted:

With an anecdote, tell us when your character realized they needed a crew. Maybe it was a score they tried to put on that was bad. Maybe it was something more introspective, but there was a moment where it clicked that you needed to band together. It's possible this isn't the first crew or gang you've run along with, and maybe you even had partnerships (potentially with other PCs, we'll have a chance to build on those connections later) with individuals, but you've never really been a "founder" before of a real venture. This is something special, so tell us what brought your character to that decision and how they look at it.

Arnaud sat alone in his hut, having cleared a small space on his cluttered table, upon which he had laid a deck of cards and a single bloodtallow candle to read them by. Baleful shadows flickered upon the grimace on his weary face, as he thought. What had gone wrong? He drew a card, and placed it upon the table.

The Star. Upright.
Hope. Optimism. The faith in plans coming together.

Arnaud nodded. The auspices were aligned. The Vice-Pontiff, though stuffy, would know that. Meaning that he would certainly bring the Ivory Tulip to his next mass at The Sanctorium. But Arnaud knew it also. And he had his grappling hook to climb the spires, the tools to remove a pane of stained glass to get in. He had the potions, to hide his ascent from mortal eyes, and the scapegoat doll to hide their use from those of clearer vision, at least for a time. He had made them himself. They would work flawlessly. He would be there, in wait, before the mass started. He would grab the tulip from the rafters.

He would be an ingredient closer to his freedom.

But hope is just that. Hope. What do we make of such hope?

Death. Upright.
Failure. Ill fortune. But in service of change and new beginnings.

The potions worked perfectly. The scapegoat doll worked perfectly too, Arnaud could feel the gaze of the Spirit Wardens be channeled through the etched bone piercing his arm, into the similarly pierced doll. But the Spirit Wardens are not fools. After they found the doll, they fairly quickly surmised what was going on. He had bought time. But not enough. Not nearly enough. Especially since he was not quite so nimble as he was when he was younger and the climbing took longer than expected. The Mass was already in progress. Too many people to sneak onto the rafters. He had to take an arcing shot at the tulip from the window.

He missed, and barely made it out with his life, all thanks to a well-timed dose of eyeblind at pursuing Bluecoats.

An embarrassment. A failure. He could not afford failures. He was running out of time.

His eyes drifted over the card again.

What is to be learned here? What change is to overcome me?

Three of Cups. Upright.
Community. Networks. Giving aid, and receiving it.

Arnaud's eyes narrowed. He grunted, and cleared the cards away.

So be it.

Tricky Dick Nixon posted:

Describe a score the crew might undertake, and the role your character would play. It can be from your character's perspective, or more detached. It can be relatively simple and straightforward, or have many twists and turns along the way. The important thing to communicate is where you (and the character) would see themselves fitting in with a team dynamic. When the spotlight is on them, how do they perform? What is the one unique thing they bring to the crew that no one else quite has?

"...And you're sure these things will work?" the cutter asked as she surreptitiously turned around the sharpened and rune-etched femur (from some animal, probably) in her hand. Arnaud, in turn, shot her the angry and indignant glare of somebody who could not believe they were being questioned. "The Deeper Garnets", he explained as one might to a particularly stupid child, "Draw vampires like a moth to a flame. Especially outside the city walls. Have you ever seen what it looks like when a vampire descends upon an unprepared person? Because I have. I've yet to be eaten by a vampire myself, and that's because I know how they work. Do you?" Arnaud leaned in closer, as if to dare the woman to challenge him. She did not say anything, so he continued, "A vampire is a corpse possessed by a spirit. But this is not the proper way of things. And this is something you can remind them of. But only if you know it yourself. I have studied it my whole life. Have you? No? If not, then perhaps you might want to shut up and trust in the fact that those femurs contain words enough to remind the vampire exactly what the World thinks of it. All you need to do is stick it in them for it to leave us alone, which is what you are here to do in the first place."

"To stab things", he needlessly clarified, "Not to ask stupid questions."

Arnaud took one more check at everyone's equipment, taking note that everyone had a femur and proper protections against possession, and then they left.

--

Carefully, Arnaud picked the box open, deftly avoiding the traps with the fingers of a true artisan, and peered at one of the Deeper Garnets through his spirit mask. It was still beautiful. A luscious, deep scarlet unlike any other precious stone. But something was missing. It did not glow in that ephemeral way you could see only if you knew how to look. The poor bastards smuggling in the gems were dead, but this gem proved what had caused it. "One is nearby", he stated, curtly, "More I do not know."

"But there are many denizens here, and I am certain one of them will."


OOC: Arnaud's biggest contribution will be the preparation of Arcane tools and preparations to the team for scores. Whilst on a job, he specializes in intel with Attune, Study and Survey, as well lockpicking and trap disarmament with Tinker.

Tricky Dick Nixon posted:

Prompt: Give us a unique, mystical solution to a problem. Specifically, the kind of problem a hedge wizard like yourself might be drawn to. You've given out poultices and charms and all that, but this should be something a bit more formative, something a bit more challenging. It should give us an idea of the character of Arnaud's talents.

In which Arnaud proposes an Occult Plan.

The crew was in uproar. They had gone to far too much trouble to get those Deeper Garnets into the city just to let them be confiscated and end up in some blighted brighter's mansion vault. But that's where they were. Which was sort of bad, robberies weren't their usual business. So they argued over the mansion blueprints (which their contact swore were accurate), for lack of better knowledge. Except Arnaud. He sat a little ways away, studying the city map, tracing lines on it with his finger, muttering faintly to himself. Finally, in the midst of a particularly loud argument, he piped up.

"We won't need to break into the vault", he stated, for a moment shutting everybody up. A moment long enough for him to continue.

"It's all in the mystic correspondences of the World", he explained, "Lord Havenridge is a noble, and he loves his jewelry. Nightmarket has the best jewelers in town. He will have a servant go, under a retinue too heavy to assault directly, through Six Towers, to Nightmarket, to his chosen jeweler. But here he makes his error, which no guard may protect against. Because see, Six Towers is the place of obfuscations, lost things and hidden truths. We can perform a Summoning for our lost treasure."

"You can... teleport the Garnets to us?" a goon asked, a bit incredulously, causing Arnaud to snap angrily at him. "No. Absolutely not. The Ghost Field is not some window for incompetents to crash through to grab loot. Well, they can try. And then die", he gave the man a pointed look, until he was convinced he was suitably cowed, "Here, for our purposes, think of it like a mirror. Something to reflect with. To redirect with. We cannot teleport the Garnets to us, but we can... coax the World into handing them over. With the proper correspondences."

Before anybody could ask what 'correspondences' were, Arnaud continued. "The Deeper Garnets are jewels, small precious things, to be made into jewelry, which speak of your station. What are other similar things that would correspond, metaphorically?" Arnaud thought for a bit, and made more strange signs on the map with his fingers, "Memories. Memories are precious things, especially if secret, which can be made into knowledge, secret knowledge of one's station."

Arnaud nodded once more, smirked in a rather self-satisfied sort of way, and slammed a finger on a particular crossing in the Six Towers. "Here. This is the exact middle between Brighstone and Nightmarket. Where clarity is most obfuscated. If we draw the circles and speak the words to the corners, here we can pull the wool over the eyes of reality for long enough for us to convince it that a Damning Secret concerning Lord Havenridge is the one and the same as the Deeper Garnets his servants carry, and perform a bit of sleight of hand by trading one for another. No matter the guards, no matter their equipment or preparedness, fate itself will carry out the exchange."

Theantero fucked around with this message at 17:09 on Aug 14, 2019

Tricky Dick Nixon
Jul 26, 2010

by Nyc_Tattoo

thatbastardken posted:

Viktor "Ogre" Vasko

Feedback: Right now your backstory leaves a lot of empty space, which isn't a bad thing especially as it's just a thumbnail. Ogre, at least on the surface, seems pretty straightforward too, you get an immediate feeling as to what he's like from the picture and description, it's very evocative. What I would like to see developed more would be character motivations, what drags him into crime as opposed to perhaps committing fully to his people under Hutton or the like. Why is it just an Obligation rather than his calling?

Prompt: Describe a moment of terrible injustice done to your people in Doskvol. It doesn't matter whether you were powerless or not in this moment, only that it expresses the daily oppression you and your people live under. Maybe it spurred Viktor to action, maybe he could do nothing but watch. How he reacted and was motivated by could be illustrative of the above, while also adding color to the setting.

TheFireMagi posted:

Duncan "Domovoi" Templeton

Feedback: We've discussed a little the implications of Mother Narya and her being a Scurlock on Discord. You mention however the Lord Scurlock moving on from Doskvol, which isn't entirely accurate. Lord Scurlock is said to be an immortal, obsessed with the occult, and actually individually represents a faction within the Underworld due to his power. This makes the idea of a family curse even more compelling since Scurlock is canonically bound to the terrible demon Setarra. Leonard being his servant would be a good hook, but might require some adjustment. What is his relation to Narya? Is she a niece, a granddaughter? Some minor thoughts to fill in.

Prompt: Name those who you believe want Mother Narya dead. You have become something now of a bodyguard and hunter for the charitable Mother, who represents at base what seems to be a purely philanthropic institution but clearly has attracted the attention of those who would mean her harm. Does Domovoi blame the curse primarily? Or can he name specific names and people that they have encountered that are marked as dangerous, that he spends time tracking and tabs on during?

Brainamp posted:

Corwin "Mort" Baldric

Feedback: I like the Hive connection. The Hive is liable to at first be the source of some work for the crew, but if you folks end up having any ambitions at all, they are liable to end up a nemesis once they clock you as a threat to their monopoly on contraband. I'd also be curious if your character had any interaction with Sister Thorn or the scavengers at all, or if that's something to explore in play.

Prompt: Describe a horror you witnessed beyond the lightning curtain. To be sure, most of what Mort witnessed and still remembers, he would rather soon forget. The death lands and what lies beyond the city is intentionally kept vague in the fiction, so this is also an opportunity for us to fill in that blank space, with just a glimpse. And it should likely just be that: A glimpse into something most of the other PCs will have no experience or understanding of, a particular small-t trauma that you carry and understand.

Captain Walker posted:

Shaheen "Jean" Kashmandur

Feedback: It's unclear why Jean originally left the Sandmen behind, which might be completely intentional on your part to keep vague, but it does leave a question as to her wider motivations. The Vice doesn't shed much more light on that, other than a common theme that Jean craves safety, and is very slow to trust. What would then coax her out to join a crew in the first place? This might tie into the general prompts given for all, but food for thought and to chew on.

Prompt: Give an account of a night at the Veil. It's not only your purveyor but a hot spot for the Underworld of the city, with a rogues gallery of interesting characters and regulars to draw from. This is an opportunity to illustrate a bit of what draws Jean to this place, and her experience with Duskwall's seedy underbelly, and perhaps what sort of pleasures she seeks to partake in when given a chance to feel secure enough to do so.


Feedback: The Vice doesn't get any mention in the backstory, and combining Pleasure with Obligation makes me interested in what kind of relationship Kaja has with Madame Tesslyn. Tesslyn's brothel is the oldest and most respected in the city, and she herself is a very influential figure. Does she hold Kaja in debt? Does Kaja work for her on the side? Is Kaja a client? Or has a personal relationship with her in some way? It need not all be fully explained, but considering how finding her mother seems to feature as Kaja's main motivation, I'd like to know more with how the vice interacts with that, and perhaps stymies her progress.

Prompt: Share an anecdote from your childhood as the ward of a demon. Demons, like many setting elements, are kept vague for us to fill in answers about them, but we do know they wear humanoid shapes (and sometimes disguise themselves as human), have elemental natures, and do not reflect in the ghost field but instead live eternal with blood of electroplasmic essence. And of course, they are driven by a dark, perverse desire that drives them. This all would account for an unusual childhood, so shed a little light for us on what it would be like, and perhaps what a demon is like when it interacts with a mortal for an extended time.

Ferrosol posted:

Mara "Pennywise" Tyrconnell

Feedback: There's a lot of good hooks in Mara's backstory to draw from as far as the history of her old house and its decline, as well as snubbing the up-and-coming mercantile house you nearly were married into. Still, the thrust of her motivations are a bit vague, and I'm looking for highly motivated scoundrels for this crew. I'd like to see a little more of what drives her to go for the top, perhaps with the prompts or otherwise.

Prompt: Relate a story of overindulgence at Helene's. Vice can be a major motivator, and Mara uniquely among the current submission has a Gambling vice, where the results can be feast or famine. It can, on one hand, provide motivation by entangling you in debts, while on the other it can stymie ambitions whether from loss of coin, or even by gaining a bit too much and inspiring complacency. It's an addictive rush... What draws Mara to it, and how does it influence her criminal career?

Waador posted:

Lochlainn "Nocturne Red" Lammergeier

Feedback: The backstory gives a clear idea of who Lochlainn is, and provides a lot of great detail as to Tycheros and the spirit wardens, but why crime? With her skillset, they wouldn't necessarily be pushed into it, and their principles would often put them at odds with other scoundrels. Why not join the Spirit Wardens, or become a rail jack, where their talents would be directly applicable, and the need is always great? Were they rejected? Was there an incident or disagreement? Often a vice can play a part in driving you to desperation, but in this case a sense of duty seems more at odds with a life of crime than feeding into it.

Prompt: Relate to us an incident that occurred just before your departure from your homeland. Working with the Spirit Wardens there would have put you up against many horrors. Perhaps there was a single instigating event, or it was just the last in a long sequence that pushed you away. Give us some color as to what that was like, and why it would make a place like Duskwall seem tranquil by comparison.

Mors Rattus posted:

Ardashir "Dash" Jaravani

Feedback: I love the elements of a crime family in the back story. I was surprised to find in the book that there really wasn't many elements like that, and was planning to inject one or two such factions in myself, so the Sisterhood and Night Sheikhs will definitely feature. However, joining another crew might cause some conflict. You've explained a little about why Dash would seek partnership, but would their first loyalty always be with the Sheikhs and their ambitions there? It might be an interesting avenue to explore.

Prompt: Name one of the Night Sheikh's rivals or enemies. Every scrap of territory in Duskwall is already well-claimed, which will be a challenge for the crew come time for it. But even the Night Sheikhs likely had to step on some toes to get where they are. This is an opportunity to draw connections to existing factions, or maybe add color for a few more, and establish what kind of business in the Underworld your family gets into.

Tardzilla posted:

Nerissa "Viper" Thorn

Feedback: Amnesia is a classic plot hook, especially headache amnesia. I also really like the academic connection as the academia of the setting in Duskwall is an underrated element. The motivation is also very clear for the character as to what would draw them into the crew. Something to think about thought not explicitly state is... What happens after? It's, of course, hard to know for sure as Viper likely imagines that their hidden memories will help define a new purpose for them, but what would keep them in the life even after they "finished" what they started for?

Prompt: Describe an alchemical solution to a problem in the context of a score. Alchemy is wondrous, though it has its limitations. And side-effects. This maybe expands a bit on the second generic prompt, which you describe your personal role, but goes a bit more specific. I'd like you to imagine the actual act of mixing and brewing, what it looks, feels, smells like, and share with us a bit of the visceral experience it might entail.

Tricky Dick Nixon fucked around with this message at 17:45 on Aug 14, 2019

TheFireMagi
Nov 6, 2011

...She's behind me, isn't she?

Tricky Dick Nixon posted:

Feedback: We've discussed a little the implications of Mother Narya and her being a Scurlock on Discord. You mention however the Lord Scurlock moving on from Doskvol, which isn't entirely accurate. Lord Scurlock is said to be an immortal, obsessed with the occult, and actually individually represents a faction within the Underworld due to his power. This makes the idea of a family curse even more compelling since Scurlock is canonically bound to the terrible demon Setarra. Leonard being his servant would be a good hook, but might require some adjustment. What is his relation to Narya? Is she a niece, a granddaughter? Some minor thoughts to fill in.

Discussed this in the Discord, but whoops, totally hadn't realized Lord Scurlock was basically meant to be this setting's Dracula. In that case, my first idea is still to have Leonard as Duncan's father, but similarly Leonard might be thought to be an immortal, as he and Lord Scurlock have been by each other's side as long as anyone can remember. As such, while Duncan listens to his father due to blood and duty, there is also a sense of something more dangerously occult that pushes him to obey. With regards to Mother Narya, I did originally intend for her to be Lord Scurlock's niece, but after learning that Lord Scurlock has more power/relevance than I realized, I think I better like the idea that she has a more direct connection to Scurlock's bloodline as his granddaughter, and the Lady Scurlock that disappeared could be Narya's mother/Lord Scurlock's daughter.

quote:

With an anecdote, tell us when your character realized they needed a crew. Maybe it was a score they tried to put on that was bad. Maybe it was something more introspective, but there was a moment where it clicked that you needed to band together. It's possible this isn't the first crew or gang you've run along with, and maybe you even had partnerships (potentially with other PCs, we'll have a chance to build on those connections later) with individuals, but you've never really been a "founder" before of a real venture. This is something special, so tell us what brought your character to that decision and how they look at it.

"Whatever it took to restore the Scurlock name." That was what I swore, to myself and to Lady Narya. Yet what I could accomplish on my own was limited. Financially, much of the resources that Lady Narya had access to was dedicated to the upkeep of the Weeping Lady and what remained of the once glorious Scurlock manor. Even if there was more coin to go around, using Scurlock resources recklessly could cause unnecessary attention and trouble to be drawn back to Lady Narya. An unacceptable outcome, but I had little finances of my own to work off of. And though I had been trained in observation, investigation, and sharpshooting to safeguard my charge, that left two important gaps I deemed necessary for my current goal: communication, and knowledge of the occult. I had other weaknesses, of course. But for discovering the truth behind the fall of the Scurlock house, dealing with people and arcane beings were both skills I almost certainly needed on hand.

Extra hands were necessary, that much was clear, but they could not be just any set of hands. I have heard the whispers of what few servants remain under Lady Narya's employ, even as they try to shield it from me. That they remain only because the mistress is kind, and that while the pay is meager, the alternatives are worse, or nonexistent. There is no loyalty there, save for a mercenary interest in coin and self-preservation. Not that I spite them for such thoughts. So long as they performed their menial duties, their motivations were irrelevant to me. But whatever forces I pursued were unquestionably powerful, if they could enact a curse potent enough to bring down a house as prominent as the Scurlocks. And such powerful forces could easily sway those with mercenary interests to their side, or sweep them away entirely. What I needed was not only capable allies, but ones with ambitions greater than making enough coin to make it through the day. Ambitions that, if not serving in Lady Narya's best interests, could at the least be relied upon to not abandon or betray at the first sight of real trouble. A tenuous, dangerous form of trust, if it could be called that. But as I doubt there is any other as devoted to Lady Narya's well-being as I am, it was the best I assumed to find.

quote:

Describe a score the crew might undertake, and the role your character would play. It can be from your character's perspective, or more detached. It can be relatively simple and straightforward, or have many twists and turns along the way. The important thing to communicate is where you (and the character) would see themselves fitting in with a team dynamic. When the spotlight is on them, how do they perform? What is the one unique thing they bring to the crew that no one else quite has?

The simple part was waiting. It was difficult for some, it seemed, but patience was a virtue you learned quickly while dealing with nobility, even as a servant. At least here I was free to let loose a few shots if any fool attempted to double-cross or weasel out of a deal. And let loose I would, if that was needed. But if all things went well, it would be a quiet night, a night that would soon be forgotten. Of course, if all things went well, I wouldn't be here to begin with. So, I quietly checked the state of my pistols, even though I was well aware that they were as well-maintained as they could be. One hour to go before the other party was meant to arrive. Enough time to perform another scan of the area, ensure there wouldn't be any unwelcome surprises.

quote:

Prompt: Name those who you believe want Mother Narya dead. You have become something now of a bodyguard and hunter for the charitable Mother, who represents at base what seems to be a purely philanthropic institution but clearly has attracted the attention of those who would mean her harm. Does Domovoi blame the curse primarily? Or can he name specific names and people that they have encountered that are marked as dangerous, that he spends time tracking and tabs on during?

I will be the first to admit I know little of curses, or of the occult in general. I have attempted to investigate and dabble here and there, in the few occasions I have spare time, so that I might better protect Lady Narya, but it is more difficult than I anticipated to learn. As such, how much of the misfortune that has befallen her and the Scurlock house is due to some great curse, and how much is due to incompetence on the part of us Templetons, I cannot say. It would be simple to write off every failure as a matter outside of our control, but that is not true, is it? The Scurlocks have long had enemies in the shadow, working behind the scenes to bring us down and pull themselves ahead. Both the Bowmore and the Rowan houses had and still have land in the Six Towers district, and have been competitors with my lady's house for many generations. Despite that, I have my doubts either Bowman and Rowan are behind the curse that has brought the Scurlocks low. For one, our misfortune has hindered the Six Towers district's fortunes as a whole, causing great loss to all of our houses. I doubt the damages done to us would be worth the costs for either family. More likely it is some other noble house with a grudge against the Scurlocks in particular, who saw the damages to Bowmore and Rowan as a bonus.

That said, I am aware of the rumors surrounding both Lord Scurlock and my father both. The ones regarding immortality, that is. The criminal ones, well. The Scurlocks must prosper, and the Templetons do what they must to ensure it is so. But while I am not privy to all the details, I am not so foolish as to ignore the occultic whispers. There is a reason I am on edge whenever my father passes down orders, even if I intend to follow them regardless. With such whispers comes many new enemies, unusual ones. Politicians and assassins, I am familiar with, even if I confess I am not always successful in my dealings with them, as with failing to capture Steiner after their attempt on my lady's life. But there is something different about two that I have noticed as of late. One is a woman that calls herself Lucille, a regular face at the Weeping Lady. Tattered and grime-covered as she may be, there is no hiding her sharp eyes as she observes Lady Narya. I have considered eliminating her, but my lady seems to have taken a shine to this Lucille. and I am uncertain what her goals might be even after following her on multiple occasions. It would be unwise to be rid of her before learning more.

The other threat I have acknowledged I have even less information about, and it was only by chance that I learned of them. My lady had left a ring behind at the Weeping Lady, an heirloom of her mother, and I left to retrieve it. Along the way, I caught sight of a figure seemingly preparing to enter the building. Taken off-guard, it seems I was unable to fully hide my presence, and they noticed me before I could draw my pistol upon them. Though they fled, there was enough moonlight that evening for me to spot the bronze mask they were wearing, but little more detail. Afterwards, I thoroughly examined the Weeping Lady for any sign of foul play, but concluded that nothing was amiss or astray. I have yet to catch sight of that figure again, but it has been a constant concern of mine since.

TheFireMagi fucked around with this message at 00:53 on Aug 21, 2019

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deadking
Apr 13, 2006

Hello? Charlemagne?!

Tricky Dick Nixon posted:

With an anecdote, tell us when your character realized they needed a crew. Maybe it was a score they tried to put on that was bad. Maybe it was something more introspective, but there was a moment where it clicked that you needed to band together. It's possible this isn't the first crew or gang you've run along with, and maybe you even had partnerships (potentially with other PCs, we'll have a chance to build on those connections later) with individuals, but you've never really been a "founder" before of a real venture. This is something special, so tell us what brought your character to that decision and how they look at it.

What’s the rush, mate? Sit down and let old Nail chew your ear for a minute. You’re flush off the last score, everyone can see it. Well done. You got lucky. Let me tell you a story about a cutter fresh off the boat. He’s handy with a carver, you see. But he can’t speak proper and he knows better than to cross the angry dead but that sometimes it can’t be helped. But he thinks he can cut his way out of any scrape, so he tries to go it alone. He sticks up someone with friends, someone he shouldn’t have. Not but a few weeks later he’s in the gutter trying to catch his breath with a few inches of iron sticking out of his throat. Don’t stare at it, mate, it’s not polite.
You know what his worst mistake was? He thought he couldn’t trust no one. Some of the gaffers will tell you as much. They’re talking poo poo, mate. You see, the work depends on trust more than anything. Trust that the one next to you’s watching out for you. That they can handle themselves and their job. You don’t have to like them, but you have to be able to trust them or you’re not long for this city. We die alone out here but we earn together. Find yourself a crew. They’re your brothers and sisters now. Or don’t, plenty like you around here.
That candle’s in the bowl for a reason, so leave it be will you?


quote:

Describe a score the crew might undertake, and the role your character would play. It can be from your character's perspective, or more detached. It can be relatively simple and straightforward, or have many twists and turns along the way. The important thing to communicate is where you (and the character) would see themselves fitting in with a team dynamic. When the spotlight is on them, how do they perform? What is the one unique thing they bring to the crew that no one else quite has?

Roethe is very aware of his own limitations and quite willing to serve as a menacing presence while others more expert ply their particular trades. However, he has something of a sixth sense for impending danger and when the violence starts he's in the thick of it. He considers assuring the safety of his associates an essential part of his job description and will literally take a bullet for the team.

The job was supposed to be a simple one. Pick up the crate in the docks, move them past the bluecoats, and drop them off with the buyer. But most of all, don't look inside. It all went smooth as silk to start. Moira and her boys are upset about sommat and spirits know why. They always make business a little harder than it needs to be. But the Scavengers are born cowards the lot and behind all that bluster they ain't up for it. Aldric's smoothing things over with them so I just lean back against the lamp pole and let them gab. I don't say naught but I pull my coat back just enough so that Moira can see the knife and so's she knows that her night could take a very different turn if she pleases.

They're happy enough now though, so we get to work. Me and Phin muscle the crate up onto the cart. Aldric just watches. Again. Oh well, I probably wouldn't help neither if I wore such fine clothes. Phin says sommat funny about Twelves' new little beard and I laugh and clap her on the back. The boy's distraction works like a charm and so we sail unnoticed right past the guard post and into Silkshore. Easy money so far.

It all goes south after we get the goods to Carver's spot. We're sitting round his table settling accounts when one of his cutters comes in and whispers sommat into his ear. Carver gets real angry then. He's shouting and demanding to know who opened the box. Aldric's got his hands up and he's swearing on his ma that it weren't us. For a minute it looks like he's done it again but then, in the blink of an eye, it all kicks off. Carver's smiling and I see the glint of his steel before he throws it. I'm on my feet that instant and pushing Aldric down to the side. The blade catches me in the shoulder, right where Aldric's face was a second before. I kick the table into Carver's leg as I desperately yank the pistol off my belt. He loses his balance and his second knife goes wide. His cutter's closing fast on me and there's barely enough time to level the gun. It goes off right in the scab's chest in the nick of time. No time to pull my own out, so I make do with the recently departed's blade. I can barely feel my shoulder as I leap over the fallen table at Carver. I think I'm grinning from ear to ear.

quote:

Feedback: Dagger Islanders are described as copper-skinned and superstitious, with an exotic flavor compared to the Akorosi in addition to their maritime culture. Roethe in name, appearance, and background reads mostly as an Akorosi.

Roethe is a dagger islander of mixed descent. His mother is and islander and his father an Akorosi sailor. Roethe’s name comes from his father’s people, but he was raised by his mother. He is of fairer skin than the average islander but is still recognizably an islander. His speech reveals the accent and unusual vocabulary of islanders’ cant. Beyond that, Roethe has spent the majority of life around Akorosis on merchant ships, in the military, and in Duskwall. He has acculturated to a large degree to Akorosi culture, although his mannerisms and particularly his idiosyncratic beliefs about spirits bear the mark of the Dagger Isles.

quote:

I would like to see maybe a little more Dagger Islander influence, maybe some strange habits or superstitions earned from living without the protection of lightning fences, alongside spirits rather than separate from them.

Roethe’s beliefs about spirits are far from coherent or complete. They consist of a syncretic blend of Dagger Isles folklore, sailors’ wisdom, and soldiers’ superstitions. Those who know or have spent time working with him may have noticed some of the following quirks:

He wears a small leather pouch around his neck which he will rub or even kiss in stressful situations. No one (maybe not even Roethe) knows what this bag contains but he strongly resists any attempt to take it from him.

He has a large tattoo of the emperor’s face on his back in the (patently mistaken) belief that no officer would dare to mar the ruler’s visage with the lash and that an imperial curse will fall upon anyone who dares to do so.

Sometimes, especially when intoxicated, he boasts that he cannot be drowned. If asked why, he alludes to a bargain struck during his first voyage.

He has a particular regard for cats, especially those with two differently colored eyes. He goes out of his way to be kind to them and can become quite upset at those who mistreat them. He can be observed watching a cat’s activities intently and changing his own behavior and demeanor accordingly seemingly without much consistency or logic. For example, he gets very nervous if he sees a cat grooming its fur against the grain.

He believes that certain combination of days and hours are inauspicious. If asked to explain why, Roethe cannot articulate any sort of logic or pattern to these unlucky days. Instead he seems to rely on an intuitive sense of dread to determine their proper time.

He is extremely reluctant to enter wooded areas. He mutters vaguely about misfortune and impending danger when compelled to do so.

When possible, he leaves a small bowl of milk mixed with a bit of his own blood outside the door of whatever room he sleeps in.

He is terrified by the prospect of cremation. Past associates recall that in particularly dark or dangerous moments he has begged them not to let his body be burned. If asked why later, Roethe changes the subject.


quote:

Prompt: Tell us what you lost in the war that you can never get back. It doesn't need to be profound. It could be something like a favorite flask. The easy answer is something like "innocence" but in the sunless world of the Shattered Isles, it's unlikely Roethe was all that innocent even before they were drafted into the Unity War. Something was lost, carved out of them. It's different than the emptiness of being far from home, now a deserter, missing a family that may have already moved on. It's something a little more personal, something that affects their person, that craves to be filled.

One of the few personal possessions Roethe managed to keep after he was pressed into the imperial army was a fiddle. It was scuffed and perpetually out of tune, but it was a gift from a former shipmate and Roethe cherished it. Several years into his service the instrument was lost during a hasty retreat. In the following years Roethe has several times tried to replace it but it is not the same. His playing is half-hearted and he eventually sells the replacement or simply abandons it. Perhaps he wants to regain not so much the specific instrument but the joy and pleasure of playing it before. It is a feeling, he wonders in rare contemplative moments, that he has approximated through poppy, but the drug is ultimately a poor substitute and a perverse approximation.

deadking fucked around with this message at 05:44 on Aug 16, 2019

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