Discussion in 'RPG Theme Suggestions' started by Crusader, Mar 15, 2009.
My guy is a miner of sorts aswell lol
I can change it then.
It's not really the fact that he was a miner that's important, it's more or less the fact that he was working at a dead end job and wanted to make a life for himself as a solider XP
I need to tweek a few details on my char and actually commit his background to a sheet
First Post Written:
The shadows of the early evening had grown long and languid; stretching out from the trees and rocks of the western tracts so their length was too great to measure. Everything around them from the trees and grass up to the wisps of cloud in the open sky were tinged with a golden incandescence of the late summer’s day.
Joram could not make himself admire the countryside, his eyes were fixed on the near distance, scanning each rock and tree for attackers looming beyond sight. Real or imaginary; for him there was no difference, they were everywhere and ready to strike. He let his focus slip for a moment to listen in on the conversation behind him.
“Two dozen barrels of lantern oil seems a bit much to me.”
The melodious voice that followed the first was full sycophancy “The keep had just received the shipment prior to out arrival my liege, the surplus is destined for the southern garrisons at next moon. Along with several other of the items in the manifest.” Arcan’s voice bothered Joram to no end, it was a constant struggle to avoid striking the man in anger, making his duties ever harder.
“And how many men are posted to the south?” The king seemed to retain his patience with Arcan, no doubt inoculated by the man’s usefulness.
“As yet just over fifteen thousand, with another five to follow from the outlands. They should be up to standards by the fourth of next month ready for any eventuality.” Joram did not know what it was, the man spoke well and with a voice deserving of a court bard, it just irked his wits.
“This won’t affect the flow of recruits to the navy? Keeping the border intact is nothing if we can’t hold onto the Pinch.”
“Of course my liege, we will be in Tarkan within the hour with the full inspection to take place in the morning, the fleet is at full strength as you will see, with more ships being built every day at the Morralla harbour.”
The conversation trailed off as Joram put his focus back onto the countryside, trying to ignore Arcan for as long as possible. Evening had set in at last and the golden glow had made way for the deep purple twilight as the last light of the day slipped across the fringes of the horizon. It was far too late to be out this close to the border with the king in tow. Arcan had insisted they would make it to their destination before sunset and there were too few of them to keep things safe in the dark.
Lighting torches would keep the way clear but their night sight would suffer, it was a necessary risk against losing track of all the members of the procession and one Joram took with a stern order.
The darkness had soured the moods of all present and for a while the group passed through the night in silence, the nearby trees looming like fierce beasts in the flickering light of the torches. Joram kept his guard up, so focused on the road ahead he didn’t notice the horse come up behind him bearing the King.
“Not long left sire, half a league maybe before we hit the ridge.”
“Good, good…” The king mumbled obviously uninterested by their speed. “Did you see to the task I gave you.” The king looked back at that moment, his attempt at nonchalance hidden in the dark from the other riders, it was clear he was uneasy, but not about the dark woods about them.
“Prestyn rode out this morning heading north, he should have caught a ship across by now.”
“This Prestyn, he can be trusted? Absolutely?”
“Without a doubt sire. He’s been with the Royal Guard since he was fifteen without a blemish on his record.” The king nodded solemnly, his mind obviously elsewhere.
Joram turned his gaze back to the path ahead; too late.
A quarrel took him in the midriff, fired from somewhere out ahead. As he doubled over with the force of it he could hear more cut through the air and the cried of men and horses from behind.
He lifted his head to cough out an order and saw figured dressed in black slipping out as if from the night air itself. Too many to count.
With a last desperate effort he ripped the sword from his side and wheeled his mount round in search of the King, a frantic gaze only found an empty saddle. As Joram looked once more something pieced his side and shot up into his chest, and darkness followed quick on its heels.
Wydin Market Plaza was seething with people, from one end to the other, the whole centre of the city full. There was scarcely an hour of the day when it wasn’t full but this was something different. In places some people stood in the fountains bordering on forums and the low recesses where vendors usually hawked their wares were packed more than ever.
At the southern end near the walls of the Palaces, Tregan sat comfortably on the balconies of the Sable Maiden, the exclusivity of the establishment giving them some respite from the clamour below and a full view of the currently empty stone benches. The seats on the balcony were all full and conversation was staggered by awaited expectations, minds abuzz with the rumours of the last week and the mood that had been growing, or perhaps festering, over the last months.
Hokellai made an attempt at starting conversations, obviously on edge about the coming events. “I still think it’s a Tanithan trick, all to convenient at the border like that.”
Tregan nodded absently, he considered for a moment rebuking the statement, but was put off by the wave of silence that passed through the crowd, then he saw it himself.
High above on the grand walls of the Rekethali Palaces, the gilded portcullis was slowly rising and six figures in silken hooded robes descended the stairs onto the stout balcony set in fortress-like walls. With no crenulations or walls blocking view of the figures, the entire plaza stood with their eyes fixed on the figures.
The six lined up at the edge of the balcony and five sat down upon the row of stone benches, the only thing besides themselves on the balcony. The last one to remain standing slipped off his hood.
“On this is the fifth day of Arrosol, The high council grants audience to its people and all those within the walls of this fair city, as it was in the days since Jatear and will be as long as these walls stand.” His voice loud and booming, Tregan had no problem hearing him as close as he was, the silence of the plaza carrying his words further into the city.
The only motion upon the plaza was the rows of guard clearing the crowds back from stone blocks at the foot of the wall, where the public could stand before the council and have their questions answered in truth.
Although that was what it said in the Jatear’s scrolls, precedence always left the questions with appointed representatives of the people, who lined up behind the wall of soldiers holding the crowd back.
Attalay, Chief of the council sat down after making the proclamation, lifting his hood once more. There were a few moments of silence before the first of the representatives took to the block, climbing the narrow stairs to stand a good ten feet above anyone else in the plaza including Tregan. He could see it was Ruphos, guildmaster of the masons, a notoriously stubborn man, akin to his profession.
“The People Speak. Noble council members, for three months now my guild has been promised tax exemption on all contracts from the public treasuries yet we have still been charged for quarry shipments destined for the new viaduct.” Ruphos was a loud and booming man, but even his voice was overturned by the rising boos from the crowd, some people were throwing fruit at him, and despite their efforts, the crown was too big for the soldiers to do more than watch. Ruphos grew red and after a moment acquiesced, leaving the block. The people here today had come for one reason alone; to hear the council’s public declaration on the disappearance of King Reden of Tanith and they would accept no delay.
At last the next representative ascended to the block. It was Lymia, the spokesperson for the noble districts of the city, her slow walk up the stairs as graceful and proud as a goddess’. It was no surprise her support from the people at large had been growing every day. At last she crested the block to speak, her words as loud as they were honeyed.
“The People Speak. Rumour in the city has been at war with sense for the last week since first word came across the narrow sea of King Reden VII disappearance. Men driven to violence in arguments over causes, good people fled in fear of imminent war. High Council, let your voiced calm the hearts of Rekethal and tell us the fate of Tanith’s King if it is known.”
Hushed silence followed before Attalay stood up again, removing his hood to speak after what seemed aeons.
“The Council Listens. When word of this tragedy reached our ears, envoys were sent at once to Tanith to offer aid in searching for Reden. Though we could not allow their soldiers to cross our borders in search of him, all assurances were given to assuage their fears. Your council has sent the fifth legion across the Narrow Sea to aid in this matter.”
Just ad Lymia was about to reply a cry went up near the front of the crowd, a man in red was shouting out at those around him. “They didn’t deny it! Not a single denial, just crafted words to fool you, THEY did it, THEY DID IT!” Before even the soldiers reached him, the crowd had descended on the man and fighting broke out below the Block, the crowds so dense Tregan could see the heaving ripple through to the other side of the plaza.
Just as things were escalating Tregan caught sight of a man in blue uniform pushing through the crowd towards the front, where there was space people parted before him giving him room and at last Tregan saw why. The blue was the deep dark hue of Tanithan military.
Where fighting went on it did not subside but the peaceful members of the public turned their eyes to the front when the Tanithan soldier had reached the line of Rekethali troops guarding the Palace before the Block.
Tregan could see better now the man was apart from the crowd, the soldier seemed somewhat dishevelled from travel, a sported at least one wound. Though he could not hear what was being said it was clear he was arguing with the guards, at last beginning to shout loud enough to be heard.
“Damn you, I have the right to stand before the council, it’s in your blasted scrolls, let me by!” The yells carried and soon the brawling down the line erupted again at the sign of the Tanithan, soon it was full scale rioting. Above Attalay shouted to let the soldier through but by then it was too late.
The crowd had exploded under the pressure of day, too many people on edge set alight by fear and hatred. The soldiers finally broke and fled back to the Palace gates, the angry mob breaking through.
Tregan could not see what had happened to the Tanithan soldier, lost somewhere in the crowd, he hoped the man hadn’t been ripped apart by the crowd, after the King’s disappearance that could be the final straw before outright war began.
The high council all stood now, gawping at the riots below, far above harm they looked to another before returning behind the portcullis. Tregan looked back at the rioting throng below. Perhaps he was wrong, perhaps outright was had already begun.
Liadan here. Just dropping the comment that KTQT and I will be posting our profiles together and that they probably won't be up until Monday at the earliest (I don't fly back until Sunday and I don't wanna' take away "I'm cuter than a basket of puppies" time away from them). I also have homework due Tuesday that I should've started and haven't. lol
Hey Cru, I'm going to see if I can fiddle around with your map on PS. I just have an idea.
NO YOU MAY NOT!!
I mean, go for it, what are you doing, fancifying it or changing bits? because I'll probably redraw the narrow sea area at some point anyway.
Well I thought since people still wanted a bit of "big bad guy" I was going to extended the eastern continent by making your map (narrow sea vertical), so we can have the bad guy's haven off to the east instead of typical north.
Also thought I could spice it up a bit that's all.
GUYSSSSSS KATIE'S ALMOST DONE WITH HER COMMISSION <3
Sorry, I just had to throw that out there.
Anyway, characters. Yeah, I might be able to get her to practice character sketches on our characters (and maybe yours if you ask nicely ). I'm about to grab my laptop and start filling out the profiles some more in just a bit.
err, come again? So far no big bad guys established, no particular regional nature to evil and all that, if you mean the northern continent theyre not evil, just a little less civilised than further south, but thats due to environmental factors anyway.
in fact as I have it, Rekethal is technically on that continent and theyre one of the more civilised nations on the map, just go look at the first post, they haves a council and all that stuff.
Also now that I look at it, if you turn it clockwise it looks a little like mirror-england with wales broken off and scotland shattered.
Anyway nows a good time to post some character details with the first post up, I'll get mine in tomorrow at some point, until then sleep well kids.
I read on one of the earlier posts, people were happy to have the generic goal of eventually fighting a bad guy at the end. From there I noticed that these sort of people usually reside up north and what what you.
Working on my character right now though.
Generic badguy doesn't mean a whole nation of evil people, it could just be one person with a REALLY bad combover etc. we need an antagonist. in fact since this is character based a whole nation is a bad idea as what can the part do without unleashing unreasonable power? we were against that too
So far I've figured it the plot behind it, but for now things are mysterious and badguy/s will be revealed later. Until then we do however have a static goal with which to work, which is find the king, that provides the same sense of linearity as the villain, and more narrative potential in revealing antagonists later.
I'm off to sleep, please leave further comments in the suggestion box.
I don't mind. I just also had a personal situation for my character where a certain geographic presence would fit in that's all lol
Full Name: Jaeger “Jae” Freematyr
Occupation: A solider of Rekethal
Hometown: Cemate Dor, a small village near the center of Dei. The soil there is rather rocky and not fit for farming. Up until fifty years ago, the only steady place of work was the Forest of Quartering, where one could find work as a lumberman. This all changed when Rekethal came, looking for soldiers.
Skills: Great brute strength, still visible from his time in the forest, in which he worked in from the age of 13 to the age of 20 when he joined the forces of Rekethal. As a soldier, he honed his skills into legitimate attacks. He also learned survival skills and understanding of nature, living so near to the forest.
Likes: Peacetime, though he knows war is necessary.
Dislikes: Bigots and moneyed folk
Clothing: An old Iron suit of chainmail and leather greaves. Overtop he wears a grayed cloth breeches and a tunic which bears the worn insignia of crossed swords. His forearms are padded with coiled white cloth.
Weapon(s) of choice: An iron maul upon an oaken handle and a small steel knife upon an ivory encrusted handle- a parting gift from his father.
Relevant History: He was raised in Cemate Dor, the son of Thayne Freematyr. His mother, Holly, died while he was only three, in childbirth to what would have been Jae’s first sibling. His father and he lived a lumberman’s life and he had held an axe since his earliest memories. He quickly gained strength and prowess as a lumberman, and gained a reputation among the other men.
His father never re-married and they lived alone, on the very edge of the small town. He loved his father more than most anything in the World, but he left him at 20 to make a name for himself in the ranks of the army. He didn’t want to end up a nameless peasant like his father had. He remained in the lowest ranks of soldierly until present day, where he sits a veteran under a soft-faced commander. His life wasn’t all that he might have hoped, but if only another war would come along, Jae can only hope that he can finally make a name for himself and cement his surname in the history books.
-Eye Color: A deep hazel color
-Hair Color: Short gray. His hair will rarely hang below his neck. He has a thick stubble on his face, but he rarely lets a beard show.
-Notable Scars/Injuries: He favors his left leg only slightly, though it is barely noticeable. His right cheek is greatly scarred from the falling limb of a tree.
-General Physical Ability: Above average, for his age.
Optimist/Pessimist: Optimist, in many ways. Pessimistic to the way of the World.
-General Intelligence: He has little schooling, though he is well informed on the Realm’s current events.
-General Attitude Toward Friends: He respects those who respect him, drinks with those who would drink with him.
-General Attitude Toward Strangers: He is rather welcoming, though he might be considered a little sharp before he gets to know you.
-Opinion of the World: There’s no saving it. Care for yourself and you might survive.
-Mental Endurance: Rather low
-Favorite Quote(s): “War is delightful to those who have had no experience of it.” Desiderius Erasmus
Shouldn't we make a seperate thread for character profiles?
General sort of question. It looks like we're keeping the system that KT and I came up with, sooooo... If we limit the total number of runes to 58 (random sort of number, but random sort of day), can we trust people to use basic common sense and not go super god mode and use ultra powerful magic? (i.e. please don't make me/us outline every single rune.) 'cause if you do, I swear that the next post I make will start out with "I put on my robe and wizard hat."
sure but I'll allow extreme powerful use on one condition:
it required the user to die, using the majority of their blood supply to splash out a rune on the floor and activate it with their dying breaths.
What about if multiple runewitches all contribute their blood to it?
Actually is there any specifications of these runwitches combining their efforts to increase the power of a rune? Or does the specificity of genes disallow this?
from the look if it seems not since the rune seems to be only activate by the breath of the witch who wrote it. and set of blood would only activate one part of the rune which would either be ineffective or dangerous.
Hi guys I was interested in joining your new RPG, and spoke to Crusader, who said to post a profile in here for you people to judge and decide whether or not I make the grade. There are a few minor details I have left vague at present (like city names). Please let me know what you think.
So here it is;
FULL NAME: Piers Destrae
OCCUPATION: Information gatherer/Safe house operator for the Spymaster of Rekethal.
HOMETOWN: (at present) in Tanith, close to the border with Rekethal in a large city currently running a tavern named “The Demons Whip” in a market district well known for its underground dealings.
SKILLS: Well versed in all aspects of “normality” adept at appearing inconspicuous and blending in with his surroundings. As with all engaged in spy craft, he is familiar with petty criminal acts such as sleight of hand, pick pocketing etc. Quite good at reading lips and people’s expressions, hand gestures etc. Sexually ambiguous, and uses sex and love as a weapon in order to gain what is needed. Usually relies on his wit and charm to disarm most situations, however if pressed he is quite capable in unarmed combat or knife throwing. Has a disdain for the heavy weapons of war and will only pick them up and use them in an absolutely desperate situation.
LIKES: The high life and its associated perks.
DISLIKES: The fact that he lives a lie, and is denied these things in order not to betray his persona,
CLOTHING: Plain everyday wear of his profession, simple white shirt of indiscrimate quality, under a well worn leather jerkin. Greenish/brown breeches and quality well made boots, which appear cheap and rough by his deliberate scuffing and staining of them.
WEAPONS: Usually his manner of speech, or brilliant wide smile. However if the need calls he always carries a brace of throwing knives on his upper body, and one in each boot. A more than competent and capable proponents of unarmed combat as well. But he definitely has a penchant for knives.
RELEVANT HISTORY: The firstborn of a minor noble on the borders of Rekethal and Tanith, his family were ardent supporters of Rekethal. His father’s death in minor border skirmish on his ninth birthday fostered an intense hatred in him for Tanith and all it stood for. As his age was too young for him to take on his fathers mantle, his Uncle was appointed regent till he came of age.
His Uncle proved a foul craven man with unnatural desires, and made his and his family’s life a nightmare. As the conflict escalated and Tanith war parties constantly raided the area, his uncle reneged on his oath to Rekethal and changed sides, sensing this his best chance of retaining the title he had grown used too.
However a major battle in the area secured the province for Rekethal, and his family’s betrayal (even though it was entirely his Uncles fault) was exposed. The ancestral titles and lands were stripped from them, and the entire family and retainers etc were cast out penniless to whatever fate befall them. The uncle however disappeared in the chaos after the battle and has not been seen since in Rekethal.
The then twelve year old boy was taken into the service of the Councils Spymaster, due to his unique knowledge of the borderlands and hatred of the Tanith. Trained over the years in this craft, his resentment of everything grew, and his once haughty arrogant nature of the nobility, transformed into a twisted sadistic streak, that he was only too happy to express. A series of well executed missions early in his career brought him to the attention of the Grand Spymaster, and he was sent deep into the Tanithan capital on a delicate operation. Little is known of what occurred but a spate of unsanctioned murders and worse, almost brought the spy masters operation and the Tanith capital spy ring to an end. As one of the few survivors, he was relegated to a lesser role outside the main cabal, resulting in his current posting.
Height – 5’ 10’
Weight – 176
Eye Colour – Deep Sea green, intense but lifeless, devoid of caring.
Hair Colour – Black, but very closely cropped at present. Always clean shaven.
Has no major visible scars or injuries. Have a few minor marks on his arms and chest from altercations mainly with patrons. However on his left side of his chest, under his arm there is a long (5 inch) scar, which appear to have been made with a knife.
His body is quite sinewy and muscular, and his reflexes are very sharp. He often tries to hide this fact by deliberately slowing his actions in public and wearing looser clothes to indicate a paunch.
Very well schooled in all mannerisms of society and military technique. Very approachable and welcoming to those who appear to be of noble stature, yet slightly aloof and arrogant at the same time. Openly displays a somewhat flirtatious, almost sycophant in style at times when pursuing a mark, be it male or female. Despite his love of the art of seduction, he appears to be incapable of forming any emotional attachment with anyone.
Separate names with a comma.