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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

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Brainamp
Sep 4, 2011

More Zen than Zenyatta

quote:

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.

Corwin himself doesn't remember any interaction with Lady Thorn, but he did meet her once. She and her company chanced upon him in a state of near-death. They nursed him almost fully back to health, but in the grip of a fever he fled their company, convinced they were demons preparing him for a stew. While he never had any further direct contact with Thorn or her scavengers, they still tracked and watched him all the same.

quote:

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.

Corwin hesitates before nodding, "The ones inside the city... they make up stories. Not-too-scary ones to keep the kids well behaved. Horrible ones to keep the adults in line. All those stories rush through your head when you get pushed out into the Death Lands. But then you also got the stories of the heroes that brave the wastes. Like Jav the Tall, the rail jack who held off an army of ghosts by himself to protect a train that broke down, or the Severosi riders with their bloodthirsty horses that actually hunt down the ghosts."

"That second one... there was a group of scavengers I was following. Fresh meat, not a day out of Ironhook. One of them somehow had a lamp and I wanted it. They'd stopped for the night and huddled all close together around that lamp. So I waited, but it weren't too long before I heard something. Hoof beats. A ways off, but closing quick. I thought of those ghost hunting riders, that maybe somehow one'd found their way to us. The scavs heard the noise too and were moving, one of them grabbing the lamp and holding it up in front of him as if it'd shield him from what was coming.

"I... it weren't no man from Severos. It was a rider, sure, but with eyes of flame and a horse that had no worldly right to be galloping as it did with only half a body. I only got a glance, but that was enough. The scav with the lamp was the first to go, the rider's spear driving straight through the light into the man. With the lamp gone I couldn't see what was happening, but I could hear it. Oh god could I hear it. The screaming, the crying, the chewing."

Corwin tenses up and stops talking for a moment. Then he quietly whispers, "That's it. You got your story. We're done talking about this."

quote:

With an anecdote, tell us when your character realized they needed a crew[/b]. 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.

Telda sat bundled up beside her patchwork shelter, watching the stars above lazily twist their way through the night sky. The weather had been shockingly clear and she was enjoying the rare opportunity to see those motes of distant light. She was also waiting for Corwin to return. The boy seemed to have no concept of resting. Always moving about, even in the late hours of the twilight. On the few occasions that he did settle down to sleep, he thrashed and cried out so often that it seemed like he'd wake the whole of Dunslough. She often worried that her newest friend was going to do something suicidal. So she waited, silently offering prayers to whatever god might be listening that this was not the night Corwin had gotten himself killed somehow.

The sound of a puddle splashing nearby drew Telda from her reverie. She was surprised at how quickly she noticed Corwin stumbling down the alley towards her. Usually the boy moved as quietly as a ghost. Here he was however, making what positively seemed like a racket by comparison. It was hard to make any details out in the dim moonlight, but she could still feel that something was amiss. Eventually Corwin planted himself next to her with a thud, breathing heavily. Seeing no need to rush him, she waited until he'd caught his breath before questioning, "The bluecoats again?"

"Yeah. Bloody bluecoats... smelled me." The shame in his voice was apparent, "They're locking down Brightstone harder than ever, but I made it inside. All for one sodding bluecoat going by to tell his buddy that something smelled awful. It coulda been garbage, they could've just kept walking and ignored it. But no, they needed to find out exactly what it was that stank."

Telda let her eyes drift back to the sky above as the boy aired his grievances. She made sure to listen to every word he uttered however. A good hostess did not ignore her guest's woes. Eventually he petered out and she cast her gaze back to him. "You know, you're pretty awful at this," She said matter-of-factly. Corwin turned towards her. Between the faint light and his mask it was impossible to see the expression on that scarred face, but she could feel the anger coming off him just the same.

"Don't you look at me in that tone of voice!" She said harshly. "You know I'm right. Every night you sneak off and try to clamber into that fancy district without so much as an idea of what you'll do once you're in there. Plenty of fools in this city have done that exact same thing and wound up shot or worse!" Her tone softened as she continued, "I don't want that happening to you too just because you feel scared to ask for help or think making it through those cursed lands turned you into some kinda demon yourself. Now we ain't known each other for long, but I can tell there's a smart boy underneath all that gruffness you try to put out. Smart boys listen to the advice of their elders. Don't try to do things alone in this city. All it'll do is get you killed."

Having said her piece, Telda finally retreated back into her shelter, leaving Corwin alone to contemplate her words and the stars. The stars that continued their slow dance across that infernal blackness above him. She was right of course. Her words had stung him deeply, but she was right. Flinging himself blindly at Brightstone wasn't getting anything done. He needed money. He needed help. He needed a crew.

quote:

Describe a score the crew might undertake, and the role your character would play[/b]. 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?

Corwin examined the docked ship with a patient stare. Ten and four men had disembarked, meaning two were left on board if that manifesto they'd looked over held true. Only two men between him and the prize within. All he needed to do now was wait for his distraction to wander up and pull those men away. He vaguely wondered what his compatriots had planned, though that wonder didn't last long as he heard the drunken singing in the distance. The two cutters plodded down the dock, bellowing out some strange tune, until they reached the foot of the plank. Once there, they began to shout and swing at each other. The noise drew the two guards from the ship's innards as was planned, but they stopped and rested on the ship's railing to watch the "fight".

That was a problem. The guards were supposed to leave the ship. His distraction was certainly being distracting, but not in the right way. They were getting a free show of two drunkards clumsily flailing at each other and saw no reason to step in. Taking a deep breath, Corwin calmed himself. That was fine. Not good, but fine. Sliding up to a crate, he checked that the guard's attention was still on his compatriots, then he angled himself towards the ship's nose that hung over that accursed ink. Another deep breath, then he sprinted and launched towards the nose.

The leap covered the distance between the dock and the nose quickly. Had anyone been aware and watching, they'd have been impressed for a bit before calling the bluecoats. Thankfully, no one was aware of the man jumping on board the ship and then proceeding to steal into its hold. Mistress Mayer had only requested a bag of Iruvian seeds that the ship would be transporting, but as he searched through the crates, Corwin saw no reason not to pilfer anything else he could fit in his sack. His special little reward for the two idiots outside making the job harder than it needed to be.

Brainamp fucked around with this message at 00:22 on Aug 20, 2019

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