Turn 0: IntroductionDerm:[Making Money: Lv1: 5]
[Whoring Around: Lv1: 5+5; Lv6: 1]
[Boozing Up: Lv1: 2]
[Starting Location: Lv1: 2]
You wake up covered in bitches. There are two of them curled under your hands, one has put a head into your lap and one is lying in your feet; that last one looks pregnant. Interestingly enough, all the
male dogs are sleeping at a respectful distance away from you; you have no time to ponder that, for your mind is too busy trying to understand how you ended up here, why there are female dogs piled up around you, and why your breath smells like apple cider gone bad. [4+1] After a minute of contemplation, your mind gives up and urges you to stand straight, which you do with very little resistance from the pile of bitches.
The room around you is made of cheap stone, its floor covered with stale hay and mud, a large stone bowl in the corner filled with murky water. There is a door opposite you: it is wide open, its lock broken into pieces that now lay scattered in the hay. You can see through the door that it is dawn already, but all other details are lost under a curtain of heavy rain.
Your head is pounding, the pouch on your belt seems to bulge with gold, your Robe and Hat of Swag are filthy and you seem to have gotten some new jewelry since the last time you checked. You are now standing in the middle of a doghouse, in a pile of dogs who are starting to wake up, sniffing at the air and growling. What will you do?
Name: Derm
HP: 120/120
Gender: Male
Bio: A new wizard, he scoffs at the human form and desires to surpass its current limitations. He took to jogging during his apprenticeship. and is a little faster and healthier than his comrades.
Suppressed Desire: Wants to ascend to a higher state of existence. (EX: Become genetically perfect, and probably ageless in the process.)
Skills: Apprentice Flesh Mage
Novice Water Mage
Known Spells:Dog SpiceTraits:-2 to fisticuffs
+1 to movement
+20 health.
Inventory: Robes of Swag +5Necklace of Bling +1Rings of Bitch-Slapping +2Hat of SwagA book titled 'Guide to the alteration of chromosomes'. Author: R. M.
Ancestral dagger made of magically sensitive metal
100 gp
Mehrik:[MM: 5]
[WA: 2]
[BU: 5]
[SL: 1]
You find yourself in a gutter, facing the skies as the rain strikes hard against your face. The dark rainclouds above you are painted red by the sun's light: it is either early dawn or late dusk right now.
[4] You rise, staggering, and lean against an edge of the gutter, your knees shaking, your hair wet with sweat and rainwater. You start thinking clearly after standing like that for a while, gathering your thoughts in a bundle.
Eventually, you climb out of the gutter and walk along the road, trying to understand where you've ended up. [2] The buildings around you are made of a mishmash of cheap stones, signifying that you're standing somewhere in a district so poor that its people can't even afford to make monolithic houses. You cannot see any landmarks - even Archmage's Tower - because of the rain, but you can at least tell where the sun is. Nevertheless, you are completely lost as to where you are.
[1] You see dark silhouette approaching you through the rain, from the east.
Name: Mehrik
HP: 100/100
Gender: Male
Bio: Narrow, brown eyes, one of which is obscured by a bad-ass eyepatch. He doesn't need it, he wears it for intimidation purposes. He prefers tighter clothes that allow freedom of movement. He has a generic dark past, and acts generically witty because of it.
Suppressed Desire: Generic vengeance
Skills:Apprentice Fire Mage
Novice Flesh Mage
Known Spells:Fiery LashTraits:Dedicated: +1 will
Bull-Headed: -1 negotiations
Stealthy: +1 sneaking
Slender: -1 wrestling
Inventory:Shortsword
Robes
Tight trousers
Flesh spellbook
Badass eyepatch
200 gp
Murkal:[MM: 1]
[WA: 4]
[BU: 1]
[SL: 5]
You wake up in an unfamiliar room, in a bed much softer than the ones you are used to. [Roll for Beauty: 5] There is a rather pretty young woman sleeping beside you. Her breathing is deep and even; she's unlikely to wake up in the near future.
[Perception: 3] The room around you is built out of some smooth white stone. Two candles, each in a golden candleholder, are adorning the opposite sides of the room; they are unlit. There are two windows in the wall to your left, both of them loosely covered with curtains. A faint light is coming through the windows, and you hear the drumming of rain against the glass. Clothes are spread around the bedroom; even a glance is enough to see that you'll have to spend some time sorting your belongings from these of the woman.
Listening closely, you notice some noises outside the room: doors opening and closing, someone walking on the floor above you, metal plates clanking against each other. It seems not everyone is asleep in this house.
Name: Murkal
HP: 100/100
Gender: Male
Bio: Murkal has the attire and attitude of a beggar. He wears raggedy clothes, and is more than willing to do a dirty deed for a quick coin.
Suppressed Desire: The ability to control the rules of the universe. He wishes to bend things to his will, do the impossible and tear down any barriers in his way.
Skills:Apprentice Air Mage
Novice Soul Mage
Known Spells:Lesser BuoyancyTraits:+2 to Enchanting
Golems May Go Rogue
Inventory:Well-made, raggedy clothing
A book labelled "Advanced Golemistry for the Apprentice Wizard."
GlassesAn empty bottleA stuffed nightingale0 gp
Del Vundi:[MM: 4]
[WA: 6+1; 3]
[BU: 2]
[SL: 5]
Tonight, you dreamt that you have found your true love and became engaged with her. You sighed bitterly without even bothering to open your eyes: it was a good dream, but like all dreams, it ended all too soon. You force your eyes open and, in a fit of foolish hope, look at your left hand.
There is an engagement ring on it.
[Roll against Impulsiveness: 4] You are almost ready to scream with joy, but stay silent as another idea worms its way into your mind: what if this is someone's ill-mannered joke, and the ring doesn't mean anything? [Roll for Beauty: 5] That suspicion, however, is immediately proven wrong by a beautiful girl sleeping soundly to your right, her long, lustrous black hair spread all over her pillow.
Unable to hold your happiness to yourself, you gently cup her left hand in your two... And notice that
she doesn't have a ring.
[Roll Against Panic: 6; 3] You get a feeling that you're trapped in a nightmare, but no amount of pinching yourself snaps you out of it. Soon, you cease your attempts to wake up. Instead, you examine the room for potential escape routes.
[Perception: 6-1] The room around you clearly belongs to someone rich. Its base material is yellowish-grey granite, but there is a small jet insignia set into the wall above the bed - probably a family crest. There is a fur carpet on the floor next to your side of the bed; the other side, the one the girl is sleeping on, is standing against a wall. Your clothes and lute lie in a pile on the carpet. A copper-encrusted wooden wardrobe is standing in a corner of the room.
Your shoes and clothes are freshly cleaned, so at least you'll look presentable when you climb out of a window. Speaking of windows: there is one in the room, its shutters closed tightly, only the sound of heavy rain coming through from outside.
Name: Del Vundi
HP: 100/100
Gender: Male
Bio: Del looks to be a medium height male, with bushy brown hair and blue eyes. He seems fairly well travelled-a heavy green cloak and hood covers his fit body, and he carries a roughly mended wooden hilt sword hung on his left hip, and a fiddle on his back. Has all the looks of a vagabond traveler.
Personality-wise, He seems to enjoy debate and wordplay-one could say he has a problem with talking too much, and not noticing his surroundings. Del is also something of a charmer-he always seem to have a flower and a song for a pretty lady.
Suppressed Desire: Love
Skills:Apprentice Earth Mage
Novice Fiddler
Known Spells:StompTraits:+1 Diplomacy
-1 Perception
Inventory:Heavy cloak with a green hood
Open-throated white shirt
Thick leather pants
High boots with wooden buckles
Tri-corner hat
Old sword
Hip-mounted sword sheath
RucksackFull waterskin
Runed fiddle and bow100 gp
Vira:[MM: 4]
[WA: 2]
[BU: 6; 6; 5]
[SL: 6; 4]
[Achieve Consciousness: 6; 5] You open your eyes. The world is swimming before you, but you are not dizzy: in fact, you are the only thing that remains stable in this ever-changing place. You get out from under the table, stand up and try to get a look around.
[Balance: 3] The floor rises to slam you into the face, but you push it back and trample it with your feet. That'll show it! [Self-Control: 1] To celebrate your victory over the treacherous terrain, you order a beer:
Vira: "I'm not - ick! - drunk yet! I need another one!"Someone runs away to get the beer. You enjoy the sight of such servility; it reminds you of your childhood dream to replace the Archmage of some City and rule it as a benevolent Witch Queen. Not to share this warm thought with the world would be a crime.
Vira: "Witches RULE! WOOHOO!"A murmur of agreement comes through the tavern, but is immediately silenced when the serving girl returns with a mug of beer. People all over the tavern freeze in deference as you savor the drink with small, refined sips. When you finish the mug and slam it upon the table, the tavern floods with esctatic cheers and frustrated moans. Of you have overheard them correctly, a lot of people around you have placed their bets on how much booze it will take to get you drunk. Their attention is
so flattering.
Three mugs later, you, still woefully sober, are approached by a stranger. He's kinda cute and his goatee looks like a piece of high art, though that scar over his eye is a huge turn-off.
Before you can offer the newcomer a seat, he challenges you to a drinking game, insisting that "no woman can outdrink a real man". Hmm... what can you say, the opportunity to prove that boor wrong is quite lucrative. Besides, you're actually trying to get drunk here, so you lose nothing even if he wins.
Name: Vira
HP: 140/140
Gender: Female
Bio: A young witch leaning more towards outright necromancy. She's ambitious but cautious, good traits to have given Soul Magic's limitless potential for both weal and woe.
Suppressed Desire: Servants
Skills:Apprentice Soul Mage
Novice Flesh Mage
Known Spells:Conjure WispTraits:+40 HP
-2 Grappling
Inventory:Witch Dress
Witch Hat
Gnarled Staff
Black Grimoire of Unpleasant Things
Medical Supplies
100 gp
Ardimus Maximus:[MM: 3]
[WA: 6; 2]
[BU: 2]
[SL: 6; 2]
By the time you wake up, the tavern you've passed out in has become slightly empty. They always do in the early morning: that's the time when the hardcore drunkards have gone to sleep, the casual ones are still snoring in their beds, and the only people left in the tavern are either adventurers or those unlucky drunkards who got kicked out of their homes.
Everything in the tavern is made of cheap claystone, which means that it is one of those low-class establishments that served watered-down drinks to people too poor or too cheap to drink in better places. For some unfathomable reason, such 'taverns' tended to attract rookie adventurers, and there was no better place to put a hit on a werebeast or build a bandit-hunting party.
There is a pair of adventurers at a table in the corner; they seem to be talking about you, judging by how often they glance at you and how they speak in hushed voices even while arguing.
Name: Ardimis Maximus
HP: 100/100
Gender: Male
Bio: Ardimis had always wanted to be a hero. The guy who slays the dragon, frees the town, and has his statue erected in the town plaza. The guy who drinks alcohol all night in the town bar, forms a party that morning, and slays ultimate evil by afternoon, while still under a buzz. He wanted to be that guy.
Unfortunately, he's a little...off. He doesn't always think things through. Old lady's cat in the tree? Burn the tree down. Rat problem? Burn the house down. Insect problem? Burn the field down.
Suppressed Desire: Ardimis wants to be the greatest hero of all, to be admired by all the peasant folk in the land. He wants to slay the biggest dragons, meet with the greatest kings, and overall be known throughout the world for his exploits.
Skills:Apprentice Fire Mage
Novice Earth Mage
Known Spells:FireballTraits:+1 to physical rolls when below 50 HP
-1 to interaction with other people
Inventory:
Blue cape
ClothingA bag of charcoal50 gp
Nathair Siliar:[MM: 2]
[WA: 1]
[BU: 4]
[SL: 2]
"The clouds... are pretty."
This is your first thought in the morning. The clouds are not just pretty; they're beautiful in a way only the thick, rolling rainclouds can be in the first moments of dawn, when the sun is just in the right place to illuminate their edges with its pinkish-yellow light.
They're also pouring water onto your face. Each drop of water falling onto your head feels like a strike of a hammer, and, as if that wasn't bad enough, water is getting into your nose and mouth, making it hard to breathe. You turn over on your side and try to fall asleep again.
[Sobering Up: 6; 1] But then you see something that makes you forget all about sleeping. A dead body lies next to you, the corpse's face pale and lax, flies crawling over it. You jump to your legs with a yelp, all traces of dizziness now gone and buried under a wave of fright.
[Examination: 6; 6; 2] Even from here, you see that the deceased was a vagrant - a beggar, and a poor one. His chin is covered in unkempt stubble and there's an untreated cataract over his right eye. Then you looked at his chest and turned away, unable to look even a second more: the sight of so much blood has made you nauseous.
[Street Sense: 6; 5] You have the good sense to run to a sewer grate and lean over it before you vomit; leaving traces of your presence near a dead body in a foreboding dark alley would be, to put it plainly, a bad idea. You watch as the rain washes the vomit into the sewers and think.
If anything, this was not a robbery: both your and the beggar's pouches are still on their respective places. And it couldn't be a deliberate plot of murder: if you have killed a beggar, then why not 'disappear' him in the sewers? It could be one of these serial killings people love to gossip about - you have been out of circulation for the last few weeks, and it's possible another killer has emerged during that time...
But, of course, you have more pressing matters to take care of right now. Going to the guard might not end well: after all, drunken people are not the most trustworthy witnesses. But neither would running away and letting someone else find the body: if anyone notices you passing by the scene of the crime in such an early hour, you will be the prime suspect.
[Perception: 4] Or... there is a third way. Your attention shifts to the stone grate which you have just graced with your stomach's contents: the City's sewers, ancient as they are, have traditionally been a sanctuary for the City's criminals, and reach far and wide, passing through every street in the city. If you could get around the grate somehow, you'd be able to remove yourself from the alley without attracting unwanted attention.
Name: Nathair Siliar
HP: 100/100
Gender: Male
Bio: Nathair is a young-ish wizard, with dark-coloured hair, with a calm personality. He is the typical picture of a whoring, alcoholic wizard, though his does try to keep control of himself and keep a suave front up. He has always had a fascination with golems and Soul Magic, and thus has made it in his interests to study the two things.
Suppressed Desire: Power, Wealth, Social Standing.
Skills:Apprentice Earth Mage
Novice Water Mage
Known Spells:Shape StoneTraits: +1 to social interaction rolls
-1 to movement rolls
+2 to crafting rolls
-2 to grappling rolls
Inventory:Dark gray robes with green highlights
A toolkit
An empty bottle
20 gp
Bruce Grothinime:[MM: 1]
[WA: 4-1]
[BU: 2]
[SL: 1]
You wake up, head buzzing, on a rotten sofa in a decrepit building. Icy drafts are circulating through the half-empty room around you. There are burn marks here and there on the walls and the ceiling. The room seems to consist of a mishmash of stones, not all of them even matching; this building must have been built block by block by someone very, very poor - too poor to get all of his materials from a single place.
You stand up from the sofa and approach a broken window that seems to be the source of the chill. It's not so pretty on the outside: the rain is so thick that you can't see the Archmage's Tower, which is the most visible landmark of the City. The clouds are very thick and dark, and you can only determine a general direction of the sun. It seems that this window is facing east.
[Perception: 2] There is nothing more to see from that window: a few steps beyond it begins the realm of rain, and you can barely see the outlines of other buildings on the streets. All of them are small and squatty, irregularly built, with not a single mansion or a factory in the vicinity. Such architecture is indicative of the City's slums, where the poor get robbed by those poorer than them. Good thing you have only a few meager coins, isn't it?
Just as you are ready to leave the window, you sense a hostile presence behind you. [Reflex Save: 2+1] Before you can react, something - something deathly cold - grabs you by the shoulders and shoves you out of the window. [Agility Save: 1+1] You try to hang on, but a cut finger is all you get for your troubles. You fall... and, little more than a heartbeat later, land unharmed on a stone yard before the house's front door. Hey, it's not like you could see the ground from that window!
From outside, you can see that this house is rather big. While it's still made of materials that only the inhabitants of the slums use, its size and shape remind you of a mansion; the front doors - the only expensive-looking part of the mansion - are made of claystone and reinforced with copper bands. They don't open when you pull at them.
At least you haven't left anything inside that room: all your belongings, including a virtually weightless coin pouch on your belt, are with you.
Name: Bruce Grothinime
Gender: Male
Bio: Wears glasses, younger than he looks, lost his love when pushed towards magic though he does love magic too.
Suppressed Desire: his lost true love.
Skills:Apprentice Fire Mage
Novice Air Mage
Known Spells:Fiery LashTraits:-1 to speech
+1 to stealth
-1 with the ladies
+1 to agility rolls
-1 to intuitionish rolls.
+1 to intellectish rolls
Inventory:Robes
Glasses
House keys
Unkown address
Frying pan
0 gp
NOTE 1: If you need your character to examine something in more detail, say so. I cannot cram all of the relevant details into a single post; it would take too much time and effort.
I will answer the 'examine' queries in between the turns.NOTE 2: Everyone,
please pick a color in which your character will speak. I have forgotten to ask you to pick your colors in the character sheet and I deeply regret being such a scatterbrain, but colors are a necessary evil with an emphasis on 'necessary'.
NOTE 3: You are not limited by your Known Spells: these are only the spells that you have already cast or learned. If you believe that your Known Spells are inadequate for your current situation, craft a new one.
Spellcrafting is a free action, meaning it can be done in the same turn with any other action, but has its limitations: first, you can only craft one spell each turn; second, if you roll 1 or 2 on the Spellcrafting roll, you don't get a spell.
Author
Topic: Staggering Wizards RTD: Turn 7: Saving Lives of Rats and Renegades (Read 20765 times)