IC link Cyne Alwyht - remember this name. It is a name you should fear, lest his like ever come again. Once, he was ruler of this land. King before the fall. Then the armies of Arlandia marched upon us. They razed the ground as they came, and when the King rode to meet them in challenge, he was slain with neither care nor mercy.
I do not know how we should have fared if Arlandria had had us at their feet. I was not alive during that strained decade where our people were little more than slaves to the barbarian troops. Regardless, I can scarce imagine it was a fate worse than that which did follow.
It began as a murmuring, in the outskirt villages of Parbrook.
‘The King has returned,’ they whispered, ‘and no blade may kill him now.’
At first, we did not believe the news. We laughed at the messengers with sadness, for they teased us with our own dreams. Then the raids began. Patrols disappeared. Entire towns were found destroyed and empty.
Our people rose up in rebellion. We did not think of those we had lost to the attacks, only of what we had gained. Soon the people of Arlandria were fleeing - their remnants huddles in a single force, poised nonetheless to destroy the seized rebel capital.
Then, overnight, they vanished. Come daylight there was no sign they had ever existed. We thought ourselves blessed, for what but the gods could have done such a thing. Our answer was given the next night, as the walls resounded with the pounding of flesh and stone. The gates burst beneath the mass of the horde, and we stared into the eyes of friends long dead and enemies far fresher. We scattered, spirit broken even in those who were physically not, and we ran.
Some few escaped that slaughter. Most did not. Over the course of years the cities were torn down, and their stones formed a vast tower in on the site of old Parbrook. In the topmost chamber of the tower, surveying the lands below, sat a throne of skulls - and on this throne sat the King, Cyne Alwyht.
He had not been content to die in battle. He had not been content to surrender his throne. And so he had made a pact with dark forces I can only imagine. He returned from the depths where only death may tread, and tore our lands asunder. Only the utmost edges escaped his influence - and it is here we shelter now. Our ancestors still walk their streets, along with horrors that I could not describe within these pages. They are the servants of the Necromancer, and they are our captors.
Twenty years have passed since the fall of Biarule. Twenty years of fear and struggle, the pressure at the borders ever growing. And yet, this last year, it has begun to fall. Now, the merest drips of the horde break on our walls, and even our furthest reaching scouts find nothing they cannot handle alone. To be frank, I do not know the cause, and this troubles me. But these are merely the worries of an old man.
No, the point of this letter is to ask if this is the case elsewhere - and if so, to carry to you a proposition. Now is the time to reclaim the fallen kingdom. And failing this, to slay the Necromancer himself.
You stand before the King in the throne room of Arlandria, the best that the kingdoms could muster. The King himself stands in stark contrast, old and weak, his brow heavy with the weight of the crown. He pushes himself - ever so slowly - to his feet, and the red of his robes slides from the gold of the throne. His face lies grim, as if proclaiming a death sentence.
‘You all know why you are here.’ His eyes glance at the group gathered before him. ‘But for the sake of formality, allow me to repeat them.’
‘You are tasked with settling in the lands to the North, in the shadow of the Necromancer’s tower. The specifics of how and where will be left down to you. We have provided you with the basics you might require, all of which are loaded into the wagon outside. You have been chosen as the best of the best, as those in which we can put the greatest faith of survival.’ The King pauses, eyes flicking between the people in the room - the religious and the blasphemous, the gunners and the warriors. Differences set aside at the call from him. A sad smile settles over his face, and his tongue flicks out, moistening his lips.
‘May you die as heroes.’
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The Necromancer’s shadow is a dark caravan/townbuilding RPG inspired by
Darkest Dungeon (and also partly by Jundial). You are not expected to win, nor to survive intact. Morale will fall, and your characters will develop crippling fears and disorders as they watch the horrors slowly overcome them. your characters need food and sleep.
It is set in a human world, where the closest mortals can get to magic is religion - even then these abilities are often much less spectacular than in a fantasy world.
A d20ish system will be used, and a GM character will be included in the party.
Morale is very important - it can range from -5 to +5, and grants itself as a penalty.bonus on all rolls. When losing morale, and already on low morale, there is a chance to develop a fear or disorder. When on -5 morale, you lose the ability to act except to directly increase morale. Fall below -5 morale, and you die.
Relationships can make or break a character. Merely spending time with a friend can boost morale - and watching them fall destroy it. Relationships between PCs may occur by mutual agreement, and relationships with NPCs can be increased through good RP. there are 5 levels of relationships.
Resources can be divided into many sub categories. the most common resources are Wood, Stone, Metal, and Food. However, other resources may be required. (Both PCs and NPCs need 1 food per day, or they lose 1 HP and may lose morale.
A building/craft generally needs a certain amount of points in a skill put in to be finished. Each attempt requires one relevant resource.
At character creation you gain 3 non-combat (freeform choice) skills - these have 1 point if requiring training, or 2 in not. You gain xp in a skill by using it. It is possible to attempt to use skills that should require training that you do not possess, but at a penalty, and with a vvery slow rate of improvement.
A hit is determined by opposed Accuracy v Dodge checks. Critical hits and misses are possible on a roll of 20/1 respectively, and may affect morale -as may heavy hits.
Damage is determined by weapons opposing armour. ranged weapons generally have a reload time.
Abilities are gained every 3 levels, based on your class description. you start with a single ability, which you may describe.
Levels are gained based on kills - you gain 1 attribute point per level.
The Necromancer’s minions only attack at night. During the day you have 3 actions, and during the night you have 1. These can be used for interaction,, to contribute to a project, to work field, or even to sleep - if you don’t sleep at some point during a day/night cycle, your morale may suffer. be warned.
Name:
Gender:
Description:
Backstory:
Class: Please describe - also describe a starting ability.
Attributes - you have 12 points to divide between these:
Endurance: 0 (HP = (End*4)+3)
Accuracy: 0 (used to hit)
Defense: 0 (used to avoid being hit)
Will: 0 (resistance to fear and morale loss)
Non combat skills (See skills spoiler):
1.
2.
3.
Equipment (Will be PM’d based on class):
Head:
Body:
Hand 1:
Hand 2:
Legs:
This is a map of the Necromancer’s lands, centred on the tower. You will begin at the southern edge - the closer you are to the tower, the harder things will get. It will be up to you to choose where to settle.
Healing has a base rate of 1 HP at day end.
Healing can be increased by other means:
A full days rest - 3 of the 4 actions within one day/night cycle - heals an additional HP.
A healing skill can be used by another player, requiring an action from BOTH players.
healing items can be used.
The wagon moves at a rate of 1d20 km per day. Whilst on the wagon, each player receives one less action per day.
When constructing a new building, it is important to specify the location of the building - namely the centre, the edge, or the very outskirts - this is for when your defenses fail, and could save or destroy your village.
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Topic: In the Necromancer's Shadow RPG: OOC (Read 7822 times)