Edge of the Abyss
The countless spires of Ildhina glow orange in the light of Voror, the primary moon. They descend, widening and thickening, into the earth. Thin lines of polished stone dive into the depths of the Abyss, gradually fading into the rock of the cliffside. In the low-hanging clouds of the Middle Depths, buildings of brick, brass, and wood rise, vast, sprawling towers and roofs shrouded in water vapor. Still lower is the Hive, that vast network of shanties, narrow alleys, hidden courtyards. Level after level, each built with the last as its foundation, descending into the depths of the Abyss. At the very bottom, nearly a kilometer below the clouds, there is the Warren, an immense space formed by the massive support columns of the city above, filled with heaps of scrap and ancient cisterns with vaulted ceilings.
At every level there is life, from the solitary magos in a lofty spine of stone and steel to the feral, desperate scavenger scraping out a meager existence in the heart of the Warren. Ildhina is an old, old place, home to hundreds of generations and still ever-growing. Airships ply the skyways above the Abyss, carrying cargo to other, lesser cities. Small, darting windriders carried through the endless sands of the surface by light sails, bringing exotic spices and metals from lands far away.
Virtually everyone has some magical ability, but only the rare few manage to find the time and funds to train properly, and even fewer possess either enough inherent strength or enough dedication to study to truly master the art. Many have some small scrap of talent for day-to-day use. Rumors persist of some sort of magic cancelling ability found in those far across the great desert, but the average magos completely denies such foolish thoughts.
You are one of the millions that live in Ildhina, true, but who
are you? An ambitious apprentice to a magos, hoping one day to rise to true power? A downtrodden worker in the vast hydroponic farms, skin pale after years with only artificial light? A member of the crew of a merchant vessel stopped over for a few days? A wild survivor of the Warren, clad in rags and armed only with your fraying wits? A member of the Watch, trying to avoid thinking about the rampant crime beneath the clouds? Choose, then, and cast yourself to the winds of fate.
Name:
Health: Excellent
Skill: (This is one thing you’ll get a +1 to related rolls in.)
Inventory: One small object of some sort. Clothing is implied.
Age:
Gender:
Description:
Background:
So then. I think I’ve developed things to the point where I know exactly what I need to do to keep from being frustrated on every front. One RTD with lots of man-behind-the-curtain work is enough for me to run. There aren’t going to be many rules here, mainly just standard d6 for actions. I’d like things to work like this: every turn, everyone gets to do one or two cool things. So in other words, do a thing or maybe two if they could be reasonably chained together.
I’m not going to impose hard-and-fast restrictions or anything, but it would be greatly appreciated if people respected that. Nothing kills my interest in a game faster than continually having to deal with attempts to shoehorn ten minutes of pre-scripted action into a single turn, especially if people are doing things to other players and just assuming they’ll get away with it. Also, trying to do patently impossible things. Difficult, yes. Unlikely, yes. Improbable, possibly if you roll really well. Pulling a moon out of the sky from sheer force of will (without being supercharged with divine power or something), no. If you want to try BS like that, it’ll get shut down pretty fast. I like this world and I want people to enjoy playing in it, and I’m more than willing to make it fairly brutal if that’s what it takes to stop
That Guying. Thanks ahead of time for not being That Guy.
I’m going to be taking a more descriptive stylistic approach (as opposed to a game-y one), so enjoying RP to some degree will probably be a plus. If you’re only in it for the chance to smash lots of faces in, you probably won’t enjoy this very much.
1: Critical Failure: Everything that could possibly go wrong can and will.
2: Failure: You screwed up.
3: Minor Failure: Things didn’t quite work out.
4: Minor Success: You probably did okay, but not great.
5: Success: You achieved whatever you were trying to do.
6: Overshoot: You did so well that you screwed something else up.
Six players. I promise this one will keep going, both because it'll scratch a writing itch for me and (hopefully) because it will be fun to run.
Greenstarfanatic (Alani Bourne)
Caellath (Eunh Aberdan)
CrimsonEon (Aldyn Glaedus)
kilakan (Jacob Wiles)
Flintus10 (Sarek Tel'Hal)
Tiruin (Tala Alipin)