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Spoiler (click to show/hide)

me: Max Arelli
Bio: Max is an explorer. He explores outside the Bergs, looking for new and interesting lifeforms. He is usually quiet and introverted, unless someone asks about his work. Then he never shuts up. He was originally from the Kigdom of Pallas, but he calls no berg his home.
Occupation: Biologist
Important Characteristics: short stature, very curly hair.
Skills and Specialties:
Photography
Biology
Survival
metalworking (rusty)

[_DivideByZero_]

Alright, I'm sorry Salsacookies and Harry Baldman, both of your characters had merit but I felt that the five I picked would be best for an overall story. Best of luck to future games! NAT, while I tried to be fair, I feel that Mr. Zero and Caellath combined fill the niches of your character in a more descriptive way.

The Eternal Waltz Continues
The end of the fifth night is nigh. After their slumber, the three sisters shall awaken once again. On the beginning of the sixth day, the first to rise above the treeline is Maia, the Schemer. Those inclined to believe in omens would say that this would be a day of loss. The next to rise is Vega, the Eager, and finally Andromeda the Wise, distancing herself from the other two and waiting for the last moment before she fills the sky with the blue light of wisdom.

Spoiler: The story of Anders Jannson... (click to show/hide)

Johansen Adolphus

And there we stood, our camp gripped by winter, surrounded in the midst of a total societal collapse. We were the last of I19-1 since the great riots were put down. I still regret everything I did there... but that was just the past. Now we had to move forward. The Cloud could be seen spreading across the ice fields in the distance, an aqua haze of bacteria, killing all that they engulfed. I told my companions that we had to get the jeep running soon, as we could scarcely outrun the Cloud. We had to get to the base, to the safety of the bunker. Only then could we plan what to do.

Aaaand the rest of the page had been torn off. Such a shame, you can't get any complete documents these days. You have no idea what the second half was referring to, as you've never heard the terms 'Jeep' or 'Bacteria' before. Judging from the context, it seems that the 'bacteria' were a form of soldier or battalion, probably raiders, as the author mentioned that they killed all they encountered. The 'jeep' was probably some form of animal, perhaps similar to a horse and used for messaging.


You set down the document on the chesnut table and set a block of lead on top of it so that the breeze doesn't blow it away. Standing up and taking your coffee, you climb down the stairs from the saloon's porch in order to observe the sunrise. The coming of day was usually widely celebrated in the cities, but in this old riverside town none of the owners had the time to spare or the funds to spend on festivities. After eighty hours of darkness, the citizens of the Bergs usually lay their bets on which of the Sisters is to rise first above the horizon. The chances are usually split between Vega and Maia, although occasionally Andromeda begins to overtake the two, showering the land with the light of wisdom in a brief moment of uninterrupted glory: a gleaming blue disk, alone above the horizon. Every season, the sisters alternate between the unruly pair and the bringer of hope. The Sisters were not widely regarded as goddesses in the usual sense, although there exist cults in every city dedicated to them, usually to Andromeda. Their true nature remains a mystery.

It seems that some of your followers had already placed bets before the sky's color started to change from its deep crimson to its characteristic deep violet, reminiscent of the purple vineflowers that spread their roots along fenceposts in the spring and bloom in the summer. It is said that those vineflowers contain a venom so potent it will put a man to sleep in minutes, often resulting in terrible nightmares and convulsions. It isn't lethal, however, and some great artists of the past supposedly used it. Anyway, most placed their bets on Vega, three on Maia. Mayhap the individual who set down a few shillings on Andromeda this summer could get about a hundred richer this morning... but alas, it was not to be. As the sky brightens, a faint orange dot peeks over the horizon. This was Maia, not her dimmer cousin Vega. Maia was the most active of the sisters, constantly changing size and color from a deep orange to a pale yellow. This process was thought to represent planning.

As the three lucky individuals collected their shares, you return to meet them in order to discuss your future trips. Right now your party of nine is located in a Nemish town along the northwest bank of the Astartes. About thirty kilometers north was Delta Island--a territory filled with traders, dockyards, and marketplaces, hotly contested by both the Pallans and the Nemish despite the fact that the muddy island was not even part of the corelands. Regardless, the Pallans continue to threaten Nem, that they will supply the levies of the Grand Prince with the finest steel halberds in their arsenal. The Nemish, not wanting to lose the upper hand against the princes of Ocibar, have reluctantly pulled their troops from the island, leaving it once again neutral after a brief period of occupation.
At Delta, you were told that there is a foreign merchant there who specializes in ancient manuscripts, and could decipher the tongues of old far better than even the naive explorers of Yor. Your followers suggest you get going, but the merchant was stated to be there until tomorrow on the 7th. That leaves plenty of time to interact with the townsfolk and see if there are any interesting persons here. While the streets are deserted, there are many more inside the bar.

A horse drawn carriage rolls down the street. It doesn't seem to be carrying much, and the lone driver appears very weary and tired. Perhaps if he stays for a few hours to rest, you could save your party the trouble of walking along the rocky riverbank or the cracked and neglected roads of the north.

Traits:
-Musician (+1 to playing music. Music can inspire emotions in people or groups)
-Natural Leader(+1 leadership)
-Reasonably Fit (You do not suffer exhaustion from walking long distances)

Inventory:
Lead Lyre (Damage Pattern: 2 + d2)
Modest Blue Robes
170 shillings

Statuses:
None

Spoiler: The story of Maximilian Marcus Cantor... (click to show/hide)

Ah, the Earldom. Not only is it a land of brave men and women who risk their lives in the Black Forest for the sake of all, it is also a land of freedom and opportunity, where peasants are free to move to different tracts of land if they can present a case against their lords. When an incompetent ruler takes hold of a tract of land, he often faces a mass exodus of peasants fleeing the land and heading to fairer nobles. For this reason, the nobles tend to hold overt displays of generosity in order to attract migrants to their lands. The truth that many are not aware of, however, is that most nobles are accruing increasing piles of debt as a result of the partying. Some scholars believe that the Earldom is on its way to decline, overextending itself in debt. On the other hand, its economic successes cannot be ignored in the present. Not only are their peasants among the happiest, but the freedom they have allows for some of the most efficient land distribution in the entire Kingdom. No mine goes untapped, and no privately owned land goes untitled, except for the intermittent moments wherein a lord is losing most of his peasants and is soon to be replaced.

You are inside the Great Hall of the famous Eoghan house. Here, four long tables surrounded by chairs cover most of the floorspace, leaving slight channels for people to get out if they want or need to without running over people's laps. he entire building is constructed in the style of the Jarls of old, built from treated fir and lit by a great candle chandelier high above the table. The Eoghans have chartered a mechanic in the past to construct the chandelier and its raising mechanism. That engineer has since been showered with riches and has one of the best reputations of any machinist in the Kingdom. He is usually present at every feast, dressed in a bright red robe and sitting with the nobles at the front of the hall. At today's feast, however, he doesn't seem to be present. There has been thus far no mention of the machinist Karl Valenor.

Despite the noise inside the Earl's great hall for a communal feast, where the peasants, strangers, and vagabonds are welcome just as much as the nobles, you find yourself focusing solely on the ancient tune as it rings on inside your ears.
Er ist Jockel,
der Gartenteichspringbrunnen!
Umworben von Libellen,
steht er seinen Mann...

Even though you don't understand this particular tongue--they spoke far too many for one man to become fluent in them all--you almost lose yourself in the melody when one of the local aristocrats, apparently upset by your behavior, shouts in your face.
"What in the blazes are you wearing? How can you listen to anything when you've got plugs in your ears?"

Traits:
-Ex-Officer (+1 initiative to bows, crossbows, and light swords when not leading troops. +1 army command morale)
-Scholar of Ancients (+1 to actions related to understanding or learning from ancient text/speech)
-Ex-Wine Merchant (+1 barganing, +1 first impressions)

Inventory:
Canesaber (Damage Pattern: d2 + 2 + d4)
Bronze Buckler (When damaged the first time in a turn, roll a dice and block the last damage number if it is lower than the dice)
Light Crossbow w/ 20 bolts (Can attack from range. -1 initiative for medium range, -2 initiative for long range.) (Damage pattern: 3 + d4)
Ancient Spirit Book
Eye Lens
Old Traveller's Clothes (+1 to first defense die)
200 shillings

Statuses:
None

Spoiler: The story of Tanthal Monserrat... (click to show/hide)

It is not often that a man lives his life only to abandon the same life. Except that you have done just that. You leave the marketplace of Kevanheim with two of the last things you needed: A bag of salt to preserve meat with, and two bottles of citrus juice to prevent scurvy.

As you squeeze through a crowd of ignoramuses parked right at the gates, you acquire an almost scenic view of the capital of the Republik. The marketplace is located at the top of a high plateau that the original village was built around, with only one building located on the plateau: the capital. Over time, however, people started meeting on top of the plateau due to the open space present. Eventually, merchants started to capitalize on the traffic by setting up stalls. Today, it is one of the largest permanent markets in the Kingdom, fueled by an abundance of foreign visitors and local farmers bringing their goods. But another thing it is famous for is the fact that the city has expanded so much one that the only thing visible from the plateau is a sea of buildings with their arches and spinnerets dominating the horizon. It is indeed a marvel of engineering, as Kevan's capital has some of the most talented builders money can buy.

However, before you can finish taking in what will probably be your last view of the metropolis for a while, a band of what appear to be knights in plated metal armor, each member having a different Coat of Arms on their shield, charges through the streets below, knocking people aside and forcing caravans to stop as they rush through gaps. Citizens hide behind parked wagons filled with produce and goods as he knights pass, although their immediate intentions don't seem to be hostile. While the Republikan Guards scattered across the streets draw their sabers and their pistols, the armored men show no intention of fighting, keeping their swords sheathed and their helmets off. You keep close to the edge, wishing to observe this new development. It appears that they are not rabble-rousers, like you first expected, but that four of them are carrying a strange-looking man on their shoulders, presumably either because of an emergency or because he is guilty of some crime. Your your suspicions of the former turn out to be correct when the knights disappear into the local Kevanheim's Finest Inn after forcing a couple of drunkards away from the main entrance. One of the drunkards stumbles upon a barrel of wine and tips it over--the cheaply-made drink is spilled out onto the street, leaving a red stain over the dry sand. The city is designed to account for periodic flooding, so the stream of wine finds its way down the path of least resistance and into a gutter where it is redirected to the riverbank. The gutter cuts straight under some buildings--they are all on stilts, so the maintenance workers have an easy time replacing plumbing and sewage infrastructure, which is among the best in all the Bergs.

From the few glances you had at the man being carried, you observed three interesting things about the man. First of all, his skin was a solid silvery grey, shining in the light of the Sisters, which had just begun rising. Next, he was wearing the strangest of hats, a round cap made perhaps of wood or metal painted over with a green finish. Finally, his clothes were ragged, torn into ribbons at the edges.

Traits:
-Master Trapper (+2 trapsetting)
-Beastmaster (+1 animal taming and pacification)
-Strong Intuitions (+1 to detecting traps, lies, ambushes, and other deception)

Inventory:
Brass Canteen
4x Whiskey (Damage pattern: 2 + d3) (Damage pattern (thrown): 1 + d2)
2x Citrus Bottle (Damage pattern: 1 + 2) (Damage pattern (thrown): 1 + d3)
Bag of Salt
30x Salted Meat
8x Trap Parts
5x Animal Mask (Roll a dice. If above 2, gain +1 animal taming and pacification with the relevant animal type)
Animal Whistles (Roll a dice. If above 2, summon a random animal for your current biome.)
Steel Knife (Damage Pattern: d5 + 2)
190 shillings

Statuses:
None

Spoiler: The story of Bellorophon... (click to show/hide)

Some say that the ultimate goal of society is to strengthen the bonds that bind together societies, and to promote peace and prosperity among the separate factions, all in the name of progress.

But mankind was exiled for a reason, and you are a living reminder of why.

Sure, you may have adapted to the ways of man. And there you are, tossing about shillings whilst shouting the names of the celestial bodies.

While the humans continue to revel in their celebrations, they cannot look above themselves. And because they cannot look up, they do not see you overhead on the wings of Vega. If they had seen you, they would revere you as a god. But they do not see you, because you are not here to help them. You are here to surpass them, to teach them their place by doing what they cannot hope to do. It would be prudent to leave the humans to their own ends and go off yourself, but the skald is willing to lead you to faraway lands. He could prove useful indeed... if you do not get sidetracked.

There are archeoptryx in the sky. Your flesh hungers.

Traits:
-Slayer of Gaia (+2 initiative against non-human life)
-Inhuman (-1 modifier to enemy evasion)
-Integrated (+1 to all forms of gambling)
-Unholy Amalgamation (-1 diplomacy, -1 army command morale)

Inventory:
Modest Traveller's Clothes (+1 to first defense die)
The Fire of Argo (Fire damage. -1 to dice in damage rolls when used past short range) (Damage pattern: d1 + d2 + d3 + d4)
5x Richmonde Ale (Damage pattern: 3 + d2) (Damage pattern (thrown): 1 + 2)
150 shillings

Statuses:
None

Spoiler: The story of Yeran Maharatmar... (click to show/hide)

Archeoptryx screech overhead as you follow the River Astartes in search of the fabled land of Yor. In your previous travels, you have encountered a number of individuals claiming to be explorers from this region. This land of Yor interests you, as they seem to be aware of your existence and actually call you by name during the occasional encounter. You've become somewhat of a legend to them, and although the tales of your adventures seem to have been exaggerated, a land of explorers and scientists intrigues you. It may be worth it to pay them a visit.

During the Summer, the forest floor is extremely dim, even over the river. The extensive cover of trees overhead turns the lower levels onto something akin to a great cave that stretches as far as the eye can see, populated by mushrooms of all colors and shapes. Along the riverbank, you take care not to step on any of the Pink mushrooms. You tend not to give things names... their purposes are clear enough. Most of the fungi in this forest are perfectly edible, although they might as well be inedible for people with weak stomachs. The pink mushrooms that line the riverbank, however, are the main reason that most wouldn't dare to navigate through the forest, aside from the hostile wildlife and obscured sky. Their flesh is delicious, but their spores will rapidly grow inside any tissue they come into contact with. Normally they do not release their spores until the Autumn when the trees give way and allow the wind to blow the spores far and wide. However, stepping on one will cause its internal air sac to rupture, spreading the spores everywhere. Because animals more resistant to fungal infection tend to pop them at all points along the river, the water is logged with dormant spores, which tend to sink to the bottom but can remain free-floating if there are currents in the water, such as from a hand reaching in to get some drinking water.

Due to the pink mushroom's prolific nature, it tends to cover the surface of the inner trees. This renders them nearly un-climbable without proper protection.

Normally, it would be easy to get lost in the forest, but your compass allows you to keep track of how long you've traveled, and lets you determine the direction of Luna regardless of where you are. So far, you've mapped out the twists and turns of the river in your head for about 80 kilometers since you've entered the forest. The forest is said to be 200km across, so you may be close. A couple of hours more and you should get there. However, your stomach calls for a snack.

Reaching into your backpack, you notice something very unfortunate about the meat you brought along. Its surface is coated in a pink slime. Blast. Well, there are other options. The middle tree layer is generally populated by various herbivores safe from the fungal plague, if you can catch one and avoid popping the pink shrooms on the tree bases. They are very good climbers. The top layer has all sorts of juicy and delicious bugs, as well as ones that may be economically valuable, but the Archeoptrix will want your head. You can go look for mushrooms not coated in pink spores, but there's always a chance it'll have some spores jammed inside the gills or something.
Then you'll need a fire, which depends on the wood. It probably isn't adapted to deal with dryness and sunlight as the leaf canopy blocks the light, so it should be reasonably flammable. However, the lower wood will be moist, which means that starting the fire could be tricky.

Traits:
-Survivalist (+1 to crafting things out of unprocessed materials)
-Stargazer (+1 to gaining info from celestial bodies)
-Wild Man (+1 initiative vs animals, -1 first impressions)

Inventory:
Earth Clothes, Scarf, and Turban
Ragged Cape (+1 first impressions with explorers)
Ancient Compass
Driftwood Staff (No exhaustion from walking) (Damage pattern: d5 + d2)
Black Scimitar (+1 initiative, reduce enemy defense die by 1) (Damage pattern: 1 + d1 + d3)
Leather Flask
8x Infested Meat
140 shillings

Statuses:
None

[Errol]

Maximilian flinches as he's abruptly janked out of his own little world of music. "Oh, pardon! I was not aware! But there's no need to shout, I can hear you clearly." He fumbles to find the off switch of the main device hidden somewhere in his pockets. "Know that this device does not impair my hearing, but rather aids it, as my ears aren't what they used to be..." he explains as he takes the plugs out and stows them away with the main device. "But, alas, wearing things in my ears just makes me look like an ungrateful, deaf buffoon, and I really should have known better. My humblest apologies."

This was the sixth or seventh incident of this sort already, and disrespecting a member of nobility was the probably second worst of them... the worst had been when the tune had made him completely oblivious of approaching robbers in the alleys of a city, and he only kept life and assets through sheer dumb luck. He really had to spend less time listening when he was with other people, no matter how heavenly the music was...

Damage control.

[Caellath]

After the men disappear into the building and out of his view, Tanthal shrugs and turns his back on the scene - he was never the kind of watch commotions - before turning on his heels and heading for the inn, curiosity doing him in this time.

Check on what's happening inside the inn.

[Kaferian]

"Triumph—Vega, sing the songs of victory, the hymns of solitude, the dirge of the Cerberus, of the Slayer of Gaia Bellorophon. Merciless, non-ending, savagery that ravaged the souls of Man, casting Man down unto the ground, feast for the vermin of the trees; the hordes of Gaia are marching on until they will cease to be. Begin now, Andromeda, when the two clashed, the Slayer and the Swarm." -The Song of Drakkar, First Stanza

The decision to join the "skald's" group may wait. There is more important business to be done, such as killing the inferior creatures that currently fill the skies, which may also serve as a show of skills. And so, the Slayer ventured out into the open and shaped his inner Fire of Argo into spears of flames before launching them towards Gaia's servants.

OOC: I apologize for the lack of Dactylic hexameter.

[Caellath]

((@Kaferian: The GM put my character's inventory in your turn.))

[Kaferian]

((@Kaferian: The GM put my character's inventory in your turn.))

((Ah. I thought there was something wrong. Thank you.))

[Samarkand]

His small flokk would surely prefer to travel in the carriage; and Anders was always looking for a fresh set of ears to listen to his music and stories, in hopes they might be another key in reclaiming the lost cultures. This road weary man represented a perfect opportunity, one Anders would not pass up.

Invite the carriage driver into our small camp. Play gentle background music on my lyre while I speak, changing the keys to match the mood of the story.

[D]"A man of good Nordic name, Johansen, gathered his men, all ready to fight for their cause.
[Ab]But the enemy was great, the Cloud relentless.
[g#]They knew the only path was forward, only safety was in a bunker. And so they mounted their trusty jeep,
[Ab]braved terrible bacteria-monsters, and committed themselves to their fate.
[D]These good Nordic men faced down the fiercest of odds and did so without blanching at their task.
[A]Their great sacrifice is a mark on our common heritage, a message from the past. Our challenges pale compared to their own."

[_DivideByZero_]

*The inventory ghost moves silently, stealing stuff and returning it to its rightful owners*

((Also waiting on Mr. Zero))

"Oh, pardon! I was not aware! But there's no need to shout, I can hear you clearly." He fumbles to find the off switch of the main device hidden somewhere in his pockets. "Know that this device does not impair my hearing, but rather aids it, as my ears aren't what they used to be..." he explains as he takes the plugs out and stows them away with the main device. "But, alas, wearing things in my ears just makes me look like an ungrateful, deaf buffoon, and I really should have known better. My humblest apologies."

The aristocrat sharply turns in response to a request from one of the military officers, standing a good 10-15 meters away in one of the corners of the great hall.
"Damn right. I'll be going..."
He momentarily pauses, and then in an attempt to make up for the trouble this incident may cause on his public image, he states:
"...despite my attitude, I deeply hope you are enjoying the party."
The seemingly contradictory words sort of match how contradictory the whole situation in Yor is. In fact, as some scholars have argued, the peasants are in a no better position, having gone from being fought for as a resource to being... fought for as a resource.

Anyhow, you realize that you are currently full, and can't stand to eat any more. Perhaps it is time to leave, but if a noble sees you walking out he may deem you ungrateful. Bleh.

As the aristocrat leaves, a peasant across the table invites you to guess which of the Sisters is going to be first to show. It seems time has flown, and the end of the eighty-hour night is right around the horizon. You get a slight nagging feeling that the peasant is inviting you to some form of gambling, however, which may not be prudent for a person in a situation such as yours.

-1 Local Aristocrats Opinion (Currently 0). +1 Local Peasantry Opinion (Currently +2)

[Mr.Zero]

Yuk, pink slime. There goes my saved meat, although it might still be good for something. When it comes to meat, creatures of all sizes adore it. So i could use it as bait and maybe catch something else. I don't have any tools to set up a trap, so i will have to ambush it from above.

Throw away some of the meat at a visible and open spot with a tree branch overhanging it.

Climbing trees is not something new for me, but I've always considered it a risk and these trees being slippery doesn't help at all. But falling from a height is the least of my concerns in this forest as there are more gruesome ways to die here. I also remember that herbivores like to roam just above the ground but just out of the reach of the archeotrapix, so i might have a shot at catching one of those buggers. That is if i manage to stun them with my staff from a distance.

Climb the tree above the bait by making indents using the scimitar. Then either wait for a prey to approach the meat or if visible and within a safe distance, sneak upon a herbivore and stun it with my staff.

The wood here is not great for fire stoking but the inner wood should be dry. Simply skinning a tree or some of the thinner branches from its bark should be sufficient to create some firewood.  ( Is there a different word to get rid off the bark of a branch/tree? Skinning sounds more towards skinning animals and not trees.)

Cut or break off a couple branches and get rid off the bark using the scimitar.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Traits:
-Survivalist (+1 to crafting things out of unprocessed materials)
-Stargazer (+1 to gaining info from celestial bodies)
-Wild Man (+1 initiative vs animals, -1 first impressions)

Inventory:
Earth Clothes, Scarf, and Turban
Ragged Cape (+1 first impressions with explorers)
Ancient Compass
Driftwood Staff (No exhaustion from walking) (Damage pattern: d5 + d2)
Black Scimitar (+1 initiative, reduce enemy defense die by 1) (Damage pattern: 1 + d1 + d3)
Leather Flask
8x Infested Meat
140 shillings

Statuses:
None

[_DivideByZero_]

Spoiler: The story of Anders Jannson... (click to show/hide)

The carriage driver, weary from his journey, is eager to hear a song as delightful as yours. (+1 to music roll)
[Music Roll: 5+2 > 6 & 3] [Emotion: Inspiration!]

Your song inspired not only the traveler's heart, but the heart of the village as well. From every porch, corner, and balcony comes a soul eager to hear the rest of your masterpiece. The tales mentioned in the song inspire not only the driver, but two other travelers as well. Your new followers are:

-Richard Capet, fifth son of King Aldemar of Pallas. With little hope for gain in the court of his father, Richard has left the royal house in search of opportunity elsewhere. Today in the small village of Barten, Richard has found his place among your promising group of individuals, clearly destined to find wonders beyond the Black Forest. He is armed with a hand-crafted steel saber and extensive knowledge of the Royal House's inner workings.
-Ronald Caprica, merchant in exile. He claims that he was framed by his former coworkers after finding a way to become particularly rich. He has since lost his possessions but his knowledge of trade will be invaluable. However, his tongue is more akin to lead than silver, so to speak.
-And of course the driver himself, Bob Cherson. Once a poor peasant, he bought his freedom after he lost the rest of his family to disease. With his cart and the clothes on his back as his only possessions, he does not offer much to the group other than his almost-legendary expertise in sheep shearing.

You also seem to have lost one. A quick mental headcount reveals you have only 7 of the original followers. Actually, you see him running off into the street, head cast down. As soon as you notice him, a crisp Archeoptryx corpse falls to the ground in front of him from the sky. You stop playing.

Traits:
-Musician (+1 to playing music. Music can inspire emotions in people or groups)
-Natural Leader(+1 leadership)
-Reasonably Fit (You do not suffer exhaustion from walking long distances)

Inventory:
Lead Lyre (Damage Pattern: 2 + d2)
Modest Blue Robes
170 shillings

Statuses:
None

Spoiler: The story of Bellorophon... (click to show/hide)

You head off to an open area in the street. Meanwhile, your presence in the sky prepares a torrent of fire from your coiled head. On wings individually wider than two men are tall, you are more than capable of coming up behind one of the flying creatures. As you belch forth a plume of flame, [2+2] vs (6+1) the beast of the sky suddenly drops down, its four wings offering it far superior maneuverability. It uses its momentum to strike you from below as you struggle to pinpoint its location, forced to use your eyes on the ground to find it. (Damage Roll: 3 + d4 + 1 -> 3 + 5 + 1) Alas, you spot it at the last moment, causing it to miss your presence's body entirely, making contact with the wing. You pull your wing upward, negating some of the flier's momentum while it impacts. Its spear-like beak punches through the top layer of your skin... but it catches on the bone, halting its motion completely and allowing you to belch flame directly on top of it (no evasion roll). Its raw flesh puts up little resistance against the flames (-1 penalty to first defense die)

[Damage Roll: 1 + 2 + 1 + 2 = 6 & 2] The bird-like hunter is thoroughly roasted, leaving it to fall to your feet on the ground, beak embedded in the ground. You lift it up out of the gravel and hoist it on your shoulder. The skald behind you stops his music, and those who turned their attention to the thudding noise are speechless.

Traits:
-Slayer of Gaia (+2 initiative against non-human life)
-Inhuman (-1 modifier to enemy evasion)
-Integrated (+1 to all forms of gambling)
-Unholy Amalgamation (-1 diplomacy, -1 army command morale)

Inventory:
Modest Traveller's Clothes (+1 first defense die size)
The Fire of Argo (Fire damage. -1 to dice in damage rolls when used past short range) (Damage pattern: d1 + d2 + d3 + d4)
5x Richmonde Ale (Damage pattern: 3 + d2) (Damage pattern (thrown): 1 + 2)
Cooked Archeoptryx
Archeoptryx Bill (Damage Roll: 3 + d4 + 1)
150 shillings

Statuses:
Minor Bruising on Presence's Wing

Spoiler: The story of Maximilian Marcus Cantor... (click to show/hide)

Subtly ignoring the peasant's invitation, you turn your attention to the group of noblemen and military officers gathered on the front stage of the hall. Some of the Earl's family has left their seats at the table and joined the gathering on the stage.

"And now for a report on House affairs," says the speaker, giving his position to the Earl.
"Yes, it is time. Ladies and gentlemen, migrants and residents, this morning we are all gathered together in one place. And as you know, our nation--no, our kind is in a grave position. This is why we have chartered Ottomar Waldin and his crew to explore the River Astartes. He shall take his men far beyond the banks of Kevan, into places few have dared to sail. Please welcome him to the stage."

A man dressed in a flourishing red jacket and wide-brimmed hat ascends to the podium. His hat is adorned with a sing,e long feather from a kind of bird you have never seen. Clearly, this man was either an explorer or a traveler, having been to the southern state of Kevan at the least. His crew does not seem to be present, although you notice a fairly contiguous group of men and women wearing navy-blue coats and hats of the same shape as the sir Otto, minus the stylish feathers. These men and women appear to have very poor hygene and manners, having splashed liquor all over their section of the tablecloth. The men have beards reaching to their waist, and the women have hair that reaches to the floor. Surely this group can't be associated with such a fine individual... but the thought continues to bother you as Otto speaks.

"Runners from across the Astartes have brought news of a possible heir to the far kingdom of Hellas. Many of you have not heard of this land. It is a kingdom in the desert of the same name, surrounded by a single, long wall of sandstone separating the Black Forest and its surrounding hills from the desert sands. They are ruled by a most peculiar man, King Nicholas, a man of great strength, despite being thin as an ostrich. His skin is silvery grey and gleams in the sun, causing many to believe he is undead. He has ruled his land for over one hundred years, and many fear that his lasting health is only a mere illusion. Others accuse him of sorcery, keeping himself forever young. But needless to say, there are great arguments as to who is to succeed this man once he dies. But recently a band of crusaders from the north have discovered a man who looks very similar to King Nicholas, having the same characteristic skin. They are bringing him to Kevan as we speak, as he was passed out when they recovered him."

The Earl completes the annoucnement: "Otto and his crew shall first visit Kevan by sail, to discover this mysterious relative of Nicholas. Then, it has been agreed, they shall visit Hellas and deliver the heir to Nicholas himself."

Traits:
-Ex-Officer (+1 initiative to bows, crossbows, and light swords when not leading troops. +1 army command morale)
-Scholar of Ancients (+1 to actions related to understanding or learning from ancient text/speech)
-Ex-Wine Merchant (+1 barganing, +1 first impressions)

Inventory:
Canesaber (Damage Pattern: d2 + 2 + d4)
Bronze Buckler (When damaged the first time in a turn, roll a dice and block the last damage number if it is lower than the dice)
Light Crossbow w/ 20 bolts (Can attack from range. -1 initiative for medium range, -2 initiative for long range.) (Damage pattern: 3 + d4)
Ancient Spirit Book
Eye Lens
Old Traveller's Clothes (+1 first defense die size)
200 shillings

Statuses:
None

Spoiler: The story of Tanthal Monserrat... (click to show/hide)

You calmly make your way down to the rest of the city's level, down the long spiraling ramp surrounding the plateau. This ramp has been lengthened several times as more fragile goods have been introduced, necessitating a smoother slope to prevent damage. Some younger folk occasionally leap off the ramp at a height of two meters or so, but for you to o so would be imprudent with the heavy backpack you are carrying.

You approach the inn, taking note of possible alleys of escape (quite literally). Next to the Inn is an armorsmith's shop, followed by a theater at the corner as the road turns. On your side of the Inn, there is an open farmer's market where local peasants sell their goods at above-average prices. Here you can find apples, pears, oranges, and big carts of watermelons. But the most striking things are the many barrels of honey being auctioned by one merchant who is clearly not a farmer. next to the stage there is a large cart with about thirty barrels of honey stacked precariously high on top of each other. It would be a shame if someone were to knock those over...

Opposite the Inn, there is a flower and extract store owned by the local herbalist, Mackenzie Hacker, as well as a physician's office next door. The physician, Laura Nuremberg, is good friends with the herbalist, and they are frequently seen together in public. Finally, a jeweler is moving into a vacant storefront located on the corner ahead. They are still in the process of setting up decorations and signage, but a wooden panel with the words 'JEWELER OPEN' scrawled over it is affixed to the open door.

...

Realizing that your backpack makes you look a lot like a traveler, you decide to freely walk into the Inn. Inside, there seems to be a lot of chaos. The knights have set the silver man down on one of the benches, displacing some of the people who were formerly waiting. The innkeeper is speaking with them, and they seem to be arranging for a room and a visit from the physician. One of the knights rushes past you and heads inside Dr. Nuremberg's office across the street. Some of the bystandars are murmuring about how rude the knights are, while others are speaking about the silver man and how he may be related to some foreign king named Nicholas.

Traits:
-Master Trapper (+2 trapsetting)
-Beastmaster (+1 animal taming and pacification)
-Strong Intuitions (+1 to detecting traps, lies, ambushes, and other deception)

Inventory:
Brass Canteen
4x Whiskey (Damage pattern: 2 + d3) (Damage pattern (thrown): 1 + d2)
2x Citrus Bottle (Damage pattern: 1 + 2) (Damage pattern (thrown): 1 + d3)
Bag of Salt
30x Salted Meat
8x Trap Parts
5x Animal Mask (Roll a dice. If above 2, gain +1 animal taming and pacification with the relevant animal type)
Animal Whistles (Roll a dice. If above 2, summon a random animal for your current biome.)
Steel Knife (Damage Pattern: d5 + 2)
190 shillings

Statuses:
None

Spoiler: The story of Yeran Maharatmar... (click to show/hide)

Throwing the meat is not exactly hard. You locate a fairly low but sturdy branch to hide in. A lot of animals are stupid and easily fooled--you've learned to stay still as a corpse, even when balanced on a branch. Then you throw the meat down on the black soil, rich with decaying matter and tiny bugs.

[1 & 2] You try to scrape some of the pink fungus off of the tree, standing behind the tree in case one of the mushrooms are popped. One of them does so, and covers your blade in spores. Deciding that it's not worth it, you wait for the spores to settle and then climb the branch by leaping up, shaking it a bit. The upper parts of the tree are less moist and luckily do not support fungus growth. Even if they did, tree ants regularly scour the upper branches for any amount of food they can find. You perch atop the branch, trying to figure out what to do with the spores on your scimitar.

[5] It seems that your meat has already attracted its first... customer. A small, black-furred mammal scurrying about on the forest floor catches the scent of fresh meat, and moves in closer. Despite yourself being right above it, its eyes are focused on the potential feast in front of it. Realizing that you need to act quickly, you drop your scimitar and lunge at the animal, [6+1] vs (5+1) grabbing it by the neck with both hands and strangling it to death. The animal is about twice he length of a squirrel, but much heavier and slower, so it could make a decent meal.

New miniquest: Aerial Assassination

Quests:
-Aerial Assassination (kill using ambush tactics from above: 1/3) (Reward: new trait)

Traits:
-Survivalist (+1 to crafting things out of unprocessed materials)
-Stargazer (+1 to gaining info from celestial bodies)
-Wild Man (+1 initiative vs animals, -1 first impressions)

Inventory:
Earth Clothes, Scarf, and Turban
Ragged Cape (+1 first impressions with explorers)
Ancient Compass
Driftwood Staff (No exhaustion from walking) (Damage pattern: d5 + d2)
Spore-Covered Black Scimitar (+1 initiative, -1 to first enemy defense die size) (Damage pattern: 1 + d1 + d3)
Leather Flask
Floorstoat Corpse
140 shillings

Statuses:
None

[Caellath]

The good measure of common sense Tanthal has - and apparently doesn't apply very well as far as "animals to avoid taming" goes - continues to tell him he should get going right then and now. All the time he wastes around the city instead of embarking on his adventure in earnest is irreplaceable, but something at the back of his mind persuades him to stay, reasoning the kind of information he gets from this kind of unusual event may yet be of use in the future.

Knowledge is said to be power, and as long as he gets something useful out of the time he's spending watching the silvery man and the group of knights with him, all is well. The man sits down and takes a trap piece out of his backpack, pretending he's checking on it but keeping his ears and peripheral vision focused on the odd group.

Continue to stand around inconspicuously in order to see how much more information can be gleaned from this event.

[Samarkand]

Anders scolded himself mentally for thinking the name Archaeopteryx. It was so sterile. Some scientist who did their best to isolate themselves from their culture made it up. Anders tried to remind himself to use the name Urvogel. It may not have been Scandinavian, but at least it felt slightly cultural. Archaeopteryx wasn't a word that got people excited, Urvogel was. Word choice aside, Anders needed to find out what was going on. Despite gaining three followers Anders was reticent to lose even a single member of his band.

Go by the one running away and figure out what happened. If it's nothing urgent/I have time, introduce Richard, Ronald, and Bob to the rest of my followers.


OOC: I assume Urvogel is harmless enough lore to claim to know. Let me know if its not.

[Kaferian]

"He came down furious from the clouds of Terra itself, with his head coiled and his Fire raging in his throat, and the wings shook on his back with the rage that trembled within him. He sat himself down away from the people of Man with a face as mysterious as Andromeda, and his body roared death as he shot his Fire in to the Servant of Gaia. He smote its body and ripped out its beak." -Song of Drakkar, Stanza 6.

"Ah, Skald Jannson," the Slayer spoke, "Was that an effective show of strength and worthiness for you?" With that, Bellorophon walked away to greet the rest of the crew.

Meet and greet the new members and hand the corpse of the Beast to the Skald. Keep the beak for myself and start learning to effectively use it.

[_DivideByZero_]

((Bump for our other two players, as well as Samarkand's response.))