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[Sl4cker]

So does this mean Infiltrator is accepted?

[GiglameshDespair]

Not necessarily.

[Mopsy]

If you want your coif to provide armour, it'll cost points.

I suspected that something like that would cost me, so the coif is more for protection against low-hanging pipes than for softening warhammer blows.

[adwarf]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Granite Ironblood
Gender: Male
Race: Dwarf
HP: 14

Skills: Brute, Brawler

Starting gear:


Your special item:
Pair of Masterwork Adamantine Knuckles - These were supposedly made by a very distant relative of Granite's back when all the races lived on a single world, before the races learned to sail through the Ether, and supposedly they had been forged specifically for use on demons though if that was true it's long since lost any power it may have had. They're worn down and marked from the countless times they have been used, but they still hold a certain rugged charm that makes one wonder at what craftsman could have made it. [10 Points]
 
Description: Granite Ironblood is of average height for dwarves with a sturdy physique born from years of mining, and quite a few bar fights though those are of much lesser note than his former life as a miner. He is bald with a neatly trimmed grey beard obscuring the lower half of a face that's been busted up a few too many times.

Backstory: Granite was born the son of a miner and a somewhat wealthy merchant's daughter who promptly abandoned his care solely to his father before leaving their lives entirely due to what she claimed was a 'mistake made in the haziness of drink'. From there he spent his time being watched over by the wives of other miners who were more than willing to help out their husbands' friend with only a few times throughout the year when he'd get to actually meet with his father who would always spend some of his meager remaining wages to buy him a gift. Though meetings with his father were rare, Granite still gained from them a dedication to hard work and a desire to make his place in life better so that his children wouldn't have to endure the same lifestyle him and his father had. Of course when he grew old enough to work his father helped him get a job with the mining crew he ran with, and gifted him the family heirloom, a pair of battered adamantine knuckles that had been in the family for centuries he said. Now, after mining for so long he hopes to set out into the Ether in search of wealth.

Putting more points into an item will not make it more powerful

Granite no need baby man goods, Granite need only fist and fist related goods. More seriously fiiiiine :C

[Sl4cker]

I edited my sheet.

[Pencil_Art]

Updated things. May continue to work on it.

Spoiler: Gert Firebrand (click to show/hide)

Name: Gert Firebrand
Gender: Male
Race: Dwarf
HP: 14

Skills:
- Navigator
- Demonfriend

Starting gear:
- Long Sword
- Light crossbow
- 10 bolts
- Medical kit

Your special item:
Ancient Toolkit: An interesting keepsake Gert inherited from his ancestors, this set of ancient yet still useful equipment provides bonuses to repairing ship parts. It appears to have a greater affect on magical components.
 
Description:
Gert is a generally amicable and likable person, but likes working with machinery so much that when he is working he doesn't really have much time to talk to real people, without being totally distracted. He has a long, brown beard, and wears overalls and other tough clothing in his line of work. He does make time to talk to demons, though, finding them fascinating. If he's got nothing else to do, he will talk to people, but he fumbles often in social situations. He seems at least competent at using weapons, but swings them a tad too freely, a testament to his mining days.

Backstory:
Gert grew up on one of the huge walking cities on the surface of Ynidus, brought up by his miner father and a mother who had associations with the supernatural. He, as a child, often watched her mother working with the demons and spirits, and his mother, enthusiastic to have a eager and willing learner (for once), taught him the ropes of talking to demons with gusto. He always had a fondness for those creatures of the other world, so free in comparison to him. His father managed to somehow not get eaten by any wyrms in his line of work, surviving to the pensioning age before dying (too early, they say) of multiple stresses.

Gert Firebrand used to work in the mines in Ynidus, but was always fascinated with machinery more then the treasures that could be found beneath the surface of Ynidus, especially after a wyrm attack that took most of the people he knew to the next life. He decisively stopped working in the mining business and decided that any job would be better than what he had then. He caught the next ship off the planet and spent some time trying to find a job that would put him nowhere near the mines of Ynidus, which he now considered a haunted place. His mother bid him a tearful farewell, and passed on some last scraps of information about talking to demons before he left.

Looking for his place among the worlds, Gert took a spot upon this ship, partially because he was curious, and partially so he could have a stable(ish?) job. Perhaps he would see what it was like to be a demon.

[My Name is Immaterial]

Spoiler: Tokoda Moonfist (click to show/hide)

Name: Tokoda Moonfist
Gender: Female
Race: Dwarf
HP: 14
Skills: Skilled Pilot, Gunner.       
Starting Gear:
Longsword: 1d8, one hand: 3p
Light shield: +2AC, one hand: 3p
Chainmail: +1AC, +1DR: 4p
Special Item: The Fist of a Moon - A classic of the practicality of dwarven engineering. It is a big gun that shoots big shells with the intent to hole a vessel with a single shot, venting the entire atmosphere. The weapon was designed by her family, hence the name. She had it specially shipped out.
Description: Tokoda has the build of a woman who, for most of her adult life, scraped by on Ynidus by desperate mining; wiry muscles, smooth skin from the atmosphere, and an unnatural pale from living in perpetual night. However, it's clear that she's let that muscle mass go in recent years. She wears plain, undyed beige tunics and pantaloons, fading into her sunstarved olive skin.
Backstory: How did that one marine put it, Tokoda thought to herself as she raced down the corridors of the ship. The ship shuddered from another impact, jolting her memory. "War is months of boredom interrupted by moments of terror" Replace war with life on the Rings, and you'd describe Tokoda's situation perfectly. Cometships were slow affairs and needed little attention, which is why a hand of Nulom was left abandoned in the rec-room while the crew dashed for their stations. Towards the reef or away? Before she could even arrive at the bridge, she had to decide whether or not she should dive towards ring, hoping to find cover among the asteroids, or to spin off into The Ocean, looking to dodge away from whatever was attempting to break through the ice shields.
Her adrenaline addled mind on overdrive, her thoughts drift back to half a century ago, when she was a youngling, working in the strip mines of Ynidus. Back there, the most important decision she'd have to make was where to swing her pick. Always something to do, never anything to do, she thought snidely. Who am I kidding? Turning in my pick for a voidsuit was the best choice I've ever made. She allows herself a small smile, and puts on a small burst of speed. A decade of toil on ships for a shot a chance to sit in the pilot's' chair was a pretty good tradeoff, from the perspective of a dwarf.
Some decent card games out here, too, she mused. For most, life on the moons was an tedious struggle to survive the harsh conditions and frequent raids. Pastimes developed that appealed to the time rich and cash poor of the Rings. Everyone and their mother had a deck of cards, and they've all played every variation of the standard games. Strange amalgamations cropped up and spread in popularity, eventually replacing their predecessors. A popular game was Nulom, a crossover of Old Maid and Poker about accusations and bluffing. It had made her rich and poor in equal measure. Thinking back to her hand, she let her smile grow a little more. They'll never know what hit them.
She slid into the pilot's chair, and gripped the controls before taking a dive into the thick of the asteroid belt.

Her gamble didn't pay off. They were holed heavily and barely managed to avoid their pursuers through sheer luck. The ship crippled, most of the crew dead, including the captain, the remaining crew sold off the ship and cargo, and went their seperate ways. Tokoda joined on with another crew, her current one. Tokoda was loyal to the captain. They meshed well and treated her with respect. Hell, she would be loyal to anyone who let her fly them anywhere twice, what with her penchant for risky, dangerous stunts. She feels irrationally responsible for what happened, despite the fact that she couldn't have done anything to save them. It's an old-fashioned case of survivor's guilt. On her metaphorical shoulders, she feels the burden of keeping the crew together and avenging the loss of their captain.

Spoiler: Special Item ideas (click to show/hide)

Ship, if you'll let me: Cometship - A vessel specially designed to traverse the treacherous rings of Losanii and beyond. Made from a hollowed out asteroid or comet, a Cometship is coated in ice to protect it from the endless micrometeorite impacts characteristic of travel between the moons of Losanii. They are uncommon sights much sunward of The Scatter; the ice burns off, rendering it vulnerable to accidents and attack. Tokoda won it in a game of Nulom from a smuggler almost twenty years ago. The Death and Gravity has served her faithfully for those years, but she keeps running into people thinking she was the previous owner, who clearly left unsettled debts.
If the ship isn't okay: The Fist of a Moon - A classic of the practicality of dwarven engineering. It is a big gun that shoots big shells with the intent to hole a vessel with a single shot, venting the entire atmosphere. The weapon was designed by her family, hence the name. She had it specially shipped out.
If that isn't okay:
Vacuum Sealed Armor - For voidfaring societies, voidsuits are an uncommon luxury, and voidsuits appropriate for combat are reserved for the elite. Tokoda won it from a smuggler in a hand of Nulom. Needless to say, they weren't too happy, so she watches her back while dirtside, often leaving the armor on the ship.

[Dwarmin]

Spoiler: Name: Fiori Suntouched (click to show/hide)

Gender: Female
Race: Elf
HP: 10

Skills: Fighter, Double Weapon

Starting gear:
Heavy Askrima [Longsword] (3p)
Parrying Askrima [Shortsword] (2p)
Ironleaf Armor [Chainmail]: (4p)
Dagger: (1p)

Your special item:
Space Drakeling (Cormyr) ~ Fiori is hardly seen without her small pet Dragonlet perched on her shoulder-it's resemblance to it's larger cousins is quite unnerving-with the top half of it's body starkly white, and the bottom half pitch black respectively (a unique coloration adapted by Space Dragons who hunt the inner worlds and frequently fight gravity wells in search of prey-the dark serving by reflecting the furious heat away their bellies during orbital entry, and the light helping to cool their bodies when traveling the void), and scintillant, nearly transparent heart-golden wings (often stretched to catch stray solar rays, which can allow them to survive for usually very long periods they must go without solid food)...unlike them however, Cormyr-A name meaning 'royalty' in old Elven tongue-is about the size of a housecat (assuming those exist anymore). While her pet can be ferocious in defense of his mistress, she more often uses it as a scout and lookout-Cormyr is quite intelligent, and is well adapted for traveling the void-his senses are very sharp, capable of picking out even minute traces of mana, heat, and light flaring in all the darkness and cold. As far as friends go, Fiori's had much worse, and few better or as loyal-thought he can be temperamental at times and has a habit of hoarding small, semi-precious objects...

Description: Fairly striking at first glance, Fiori seems shorter than the average an Elf, with tucked in, shortly pointed ears, and subtle levender hued eyes-a narrow, delicate, nose over a small, tightlipped mouth-so much she could pass for a human when not under serious scrutiny. Her features are more than passing fair, and refined, but her physique is undeniably honed to a warriors edge, and she has chipped away at the soft, pleasing edges she might once had-Fiori was born to wear steel, rather than silk, as the old saying goes-and her body is lean, muscled, and well balanced. Her short, spiky, dark red hair is tied in an intricate warriors braid that barely touches the back of her neck-no great care taken in the this, merely brutal practicality, to deny her enemy a handhold in a fight-to allow her to cut it off with her belt dagger in one deft motion, perhaps-intersecting geometric loops of great practical design, but no true style. Picture a woman who would probably be considered beautiful in a certain light, wearing certain clothes, posed in a certain way-but the very act seems inimical to her being. You cannot look at this woman-her close set lips (with just the slighest hint of bared teeth when you meet her eyes) and the defiant, arrogant tilt of her body-and imagine you could 'pose' her, anymore than you could chain a Space Dragon and expect it not to rage against it's chains until it freed itself...or, died in the attempt. And you would be right, if you were perceptive enough to glean this-Fiori is best described as two parts strict, regimented discipline and one part pure, empty eyed rage-with a truly melancholy heart, and a pinch caustic wit thrown into the mix.

Backstory: Fiori Suntouched knew she was doomed from an early age-it was just that sort of thing. The Elders frowned and shook their heads, muttering and stroking their chins. They poured ritual waters over her head (her wet hair, dark like blood) under the dying trees of the Tanglewood, chanting half-remembered prayers to Dead Gods-waters rich with pure mana liberated from the Scatterfolken...no change. A week meditating in the stilled heart of the Earth Goddess without food or water-a sobering experience. Nothing. She imbibed a small, precious decanter of Dwarfblood-though the taste wasn't too bad, it didn't do very much for her. They laid her in the shadow of a Star Dragon's passing comet-nest and hoped he would bless her, as the old ways said they still did from time to time-she just managed to avoid being swallowed whole. Which might have been their intention. From an early age, Fiori Suntouched was just bad luck, a curse-a pesky stone in a shoe that they would have shaken free of, if they could.

It didn't matter how liberally she tossed herself into the raids, or how many warriors she felled, or how many sacrifices she captured with her special weapons-lightning fast combat sticks sometimes called 'Askrima' in Elf-tongue-ideal for getting in close and breaking bones, living the victim broken, but alive. The truth was, she was blind and deaf to the spirit of the Tanglewood-the heart of the forest, of the old world they fought so hard to keep alive through sacrifice. Most Elves can hear and feel the voice of the wilds that are n more, even thought it has been greatly weakened...but, she couldn't feel a thing. Her senses were always drawn to the void...In a society where this connection was considered so vital-the essence of life itself-to not have it, was seen as a mark of bad omen. She found herself at the bottom of a caste system with no hope for ever raising her fortunes...no hope at all, really. Her best result was an honorable death in battle, a deluge of hedonism culminating in one oblivion or another, or brokering herself even further down the ladder-there was always room for another girl at the Bleaken House, after all...

Fiori eventually decided if she was going to die, it would be on her own terms. Turning her back on her people was somewhat easier than she thought it would be, a relief of a secret grief that had been hanging over her, for her entire life...turning her back on her legion, those she had fought and bled with, was harder-many who had come to know and value her, even love her, despite those faults-but, she did it anyway. In the end, she consoled herself with the simple fact...it was part of the Way-the Way things had always been. She was a burden, there was no doubt. Sooner or later they would have to choose who lived and died, who was more useful alive...Fiori would rather seek her fortune and fate in the void, than force them to kill her-even by inaction. This was the Way. This was how the Elves had survived. When the lean times come...and these times had grown exceedingly lean even in the best of them, indeed.

Was it really a mercy for them, or her? It's not easy to say which, not even for her.

Duty. Honor. Sacrifice. Words to live by. She carried them with her, and didn't dare look back...had to keep both eyes on the road ahead. She found a world that was not as harsh or alien as she had imagined. Perhaps even someplace she called home. Fiori just hoped no one ever remembered that raider in the skull-white, half moon mask. Wielding two blood soaked fighting sticks with terrible focus and furious intensity-as if trying to outrun a pursuing foe only she could see, even if she had to beat down an army in her way to do so.

[writes too much]

Even if I don't get accepted, you are free to use my impromptu Space Dragon lore. Green glow could be could considered lore stuff, I think.

[Mopsy]

A question for GiglameshDespair: Would it be useful if we prospective players began discussing issues like

• How we all met.
• Why we are going to fly a ship together.
• How we got the ship. (My Name is Immaterial had an idea about that.)
• Where we are starting out. (Most charsheets seem to assume that we're somewhere in Human territory.)
• Where we are going.
• What our (primary/initial) mission is.
• Whether we'll have a full chain of command, just a captain, or an enlightened anarchy. (I'm thinking of tactical situations here. Strategic decisions will be made more or less democratically, I presume.)

or will you take care of that yourself?

[GiglameshDespair]

You are starting in the Scatter.

How and why you met, I'll leave up to you lot - it'll also help me judge who will be in the game, as more people have expressed interest than I'm taking.
I plan to offer you some possible missions at the start, but if you decide on an overarching goal I can take that into account.

[My Name is Immaterial]

Is the Cometship okay? I'd like to contribute to the conversation, but my contribution depends on my ship or lack thereof.

[Pencil_Art]

So does mine, because I have no idea how random strangers would be willing to all pitch in to buy a ship.

[Twinwolf]

Spoiler: Character in progress (click to show/hide)

Name: Jane Treston
Gender: Female
Race: Human
HP: 10

Skills:
Repairman: +2 to repairing objects and ships
Gunner: +2 to hit with ship weaponry

Starting gear:
Leathers: +2AC: 4p
Shortbow: 1d6, two handed: 2p
   20 arrows: 2p

Your special item:
Magi-tool: An engineering tool, that functions as several different commonly needed tools- and a few specialty tools- at once, changing it's shape to match the job. Adds a GM-determined bonus to engineering-related checks.
 
Description: A short woman- although not dwarf-short- with medium length, black hair and light brown eyes- although you can't see the latter under the goggles she's usually wearing. She has pale skin, due to usually being under the decks of ships rather than in the sunlight.

Backstory: Jane's lived in the ships and stations of the Scatter her whole life. Her father was a cargo ship captain, and her mother his first mate. Not a very formal ship. She was born in between docks, so she isn't technically a citizen of any particular nation of the Scatter. Being born and raised on a ship, she knows how they work, usually, and became a mechanic once she was old enough- and learned how to use the guns she so often had to repair- and became a fixture of the crew. Eventually the ship was retired with her father's death of a bad sickness. She had to take a job on a new ship. She met the Captain, got offered a job, and that was that.

[My Name is Immaterial]

So does mine, because I have no idea how random strangers would be willing to all pitch in to buy a ship.

Options: they worked on a large cargo freighter, saved up enough money to buy a ship, set out on their own. They crewed a smaller ship and the captain died, retired, or is out of the picture in some way. All are freelancers hired to do a job. Time share spaceship. Reality TV show.

[Pencil_Art]

I sort of like option one, since that gives us freedom of being able to choose what we want to do (so do quite a few of the other options, though). However, being freelancers would give us something to do from the start, like a sort of tutorial thing, if we need it.