Orraca u Shia! Land of ancient queens. Orraca u Shia! Land of battling gods, of dry steppes and sage-green hillsides, of crashing waves in the south, and the great Bantu Mountains to the north. Orraca u Shia, where the dry sheraji blows off of the Vishek a Voss, whispering north along the Awhar Coast, and thence to the Vale of Deshar, where a young girl finds an unexpected link to the past. The artifact makes its way to the great city of Ishi Ammah, piquing the awareness of those who have sought across eons for the answer to its creation. The chase begins, the mystery deepens, and all eyes are on the unknown heroes who, alone, can change the path of destiny.
Your provincial brigade has been travelling northwest for several weeks, by ship, by foot, and by disc train. It’s been one day of travel, followed by three or four days of waiting, personnel transfers, and reorganization. Then travel again, followed by more waiting and reshuffling. A seemingly endless cycle.
The climate has gotten colder and colder as you’ve moved north, and for this last stretch at high elevation, just before boarding a transport, Material Distributions outfitted the troops with cold-weather hooded cloaks and boots. Just in time, if that. You were already half-frozen.
You’ve been traveling for 36 hours, huddled in boxcars lined up on disc trains skimming along the old Dominion Highway. As the second night passes, the train begins to descend -- into Dreyen territory, the rumor goes. Many of your compatriots are sleeping, a few are grumbling and hungry, wondering when there will be a fresh meal.
In the half-light before dawn, someone points to the slit window, through which Kelitawi is visible high above. He sleeps mournfully in the pale clouds hanging lightly in the sky following a brief snow flurry which you passed through overnight.
A young man in your car, a Shia fighter with a longbow and scimitar, is unimpressed & moody. He turns to the woman to his right and grumbles, “They just sit there and don’t do anything for us. I’m so ‘lloshing hungry I could eat my boots.” She responds, “You do that,” flipping her hood over her head and pretending to nap.
(OOC: Take a moment to describe your character. What do the others in the car see?You may choose whether you’ve been travelling in this car all along, or if you were just shifted into it from a different car the previous morning. You can choose to continue the youngster’s conversation or not.)
DM for Deathworld: Lost Mine of Phandelver// Story Guide for COYOTE and CROW: Cahokia Forever//Dev Horndin Curious Critters//Co-creator: Princes of the Apocalypse - A DnD Story
Sitting near the middle of the car with careful eyes glancing back and forth at some of the others who are sitting in a circle, an old dwarf pulls his cloak tightly over his armored shoulders and shivers. He has a long white beard that is left untied but neat. His skin is a cracked grayish color that almost holds the appearance of a rough stone and while he doesn't appear to be very large in size (either height or weight), his armor creates a much more bulky appearance. His sharpened war pick and shield lay on the ground of the car next to him. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a set of intricately carved dice that seem to be made of some kind of bone material. Shaking them quickly in his hands, he smiles at the other players, "Let me show you how it's done." He tosses the dice into the circle and smiles as they come up in a pair. He scoops up his winnings into a pouch at his side eliciting a grumble from some of the other players. "Well fellas, it was nice playing with you," Ednyss says as he stands up to stretch his legs. Reaching down and picking up his equipment, he meanders around the car, eventually wandering to an open seat next to a black cat that looks oddly out of place, he puts out his rough grayish hand and introduces himself to the cat, "The name's Ednyss. You seem awfully far from..." Ednyss pauses as he tries to consider where this cat might have come from, "well... Wherever you came from. What brings you to our brigade?"
(OOC: Any 'winnings' that I got would just be part of my starting gold... It's really just for flavor. Also, in case you couldn't tell, the black cat that I am referring to is Mittens.)
Mittens looks up from his book and glares at the complaining man. He has just about had it that guy's incessant whining. It was always, "I'm so hungry,"or "I'm so cold."They all were, but they weren't complaining about it. Mittens rolls his eyes and continues studying his tome. His book is large and thick, and it is bound in black leather. Its pages are yellow and wrinkled with time. A simple leather strap attached to it allows him to come and seal it shut when not in use. It is almost as large as his 3' 4" height.
You can see that Mittens is a Cat under his padded clothing. He has short black fur that covers his body. If he wasn't drowning in clothing, you could see that he has white 'tiger stripes' running the length of his body, and he has a grayish underside. He has bright green eyes with the typical feline slit for pupils, and he peers around often at his surroundings with a disdainful expression on his face as if he is not impressed with his surroundings. The fur around his mouth is also white, and he has long whiskers extending around his pink nose. He is just coming into adulthood, but it is difficult for non-Cats to tell. A blackwood staff members tipped with clear quartz is strapped across his back. Sitting in his lap with his large book is Pooky, his familiar. Pooky is an orange stuffed cat toy that looks worn and well used. He has a cream colored underside and blue buttons for his eyes. Red strings trail from its face and act as whiskers. One of his button eyes is missing, and it looks like it has several holes stitched shut across its body.
Mittens joined this plucky group on the last stop, and he hasn't shared his name with anyone onboard. He hated his name. Mittens was his kid name, and he hasn't earned his adult name yet. He was fine with no one asking him his name, and he was fine with not asking anyone in return. He has spent his trip so far poring over his book. He was having trouble mastering this spell called Ray of Sickness. It was simple enough magic, but it frustrated him that he couldn't get it right. With an exasperated sigh, he slams his book shut loudly and sets it aside. He puts his head in his hands and runs his temple before looking around at his surroundings. Realizing that his spell was reaching its limits, he whispers a few well-rehearsed words of power and casts Prestidigitation on himself. His clothing heats up to a comfortable warmth that will last him for an hour. He stretches with a small smile as his magic drives away the cold air. He thinks back in his warm bed he had left behind and how comfortable it was.
His pleasant daydreams poof away as the dwarf speaks to him. He stretches out his paw and shakes the dwarf's hand curtly. He says, "My name is, uh..." Rats! Hurry and think of a cool name! "Mittens. Mittens Toodaloo," he says in a panic.He inwardly groans at his blunder. Way to go, you idiot, he thinks to himself. He continues, "Some higher up was originally assigned to be here, but he delegated his assignment to me, the lazy slouch."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"Huh..." Ednyss says looking curiously at the cat (Insight to see if Ednyss notices Mitten's panic: 16). Noticing the cat's hesitation in giving his name, Ednyss is given pause, but can't remember even learning about this race of people and so he figures that customs may be different. Ednyss settles into the seat next to Mittens and holds out a deck of playing cards. "Care for a game?" Ednyss asks with a grin.
Mittens looks at the cards and the scrunches up his face as he thinks for a moment. "Mmmmm... Sure, as long as we don't bet. My boss was a stingy bastard about my wages."
((OOC: Since he is of a smaller race, his voice sounds similar to a human child's))
"No problem." Ednyss says, although he is a little disappointed that we won't be able to make an easy coin off of this fellow. He sits back and begins to shuffle and deal out the cards.
(OOC: I'm not sure what card/dice games exist in this world and how we could mock those up (i.e. Insight, Deception, Intimidation rolls), but I will wait for a disclaimer from @1973 before we actually play a game so as not to mess with any potential games he has.)
(OOC: Ednyss's voice sounds like it used to be a powerful and booming voice, but it is now a little diluted and less intrusive. His voice is also a bit scratchy, almost like two dry stones rubbing against each other.)
Standing in the corner, armoured and armed, holding a shield in one hand and a longsword in the other, as if ready to fight every second Varielky stands motionlessly. She's quiet most of the time, except for an occasional whisper in a language that only Mittens seem to understand, though she's unaware of this, that translates to "Unworthy fools. They'll never ascend."
Since she boarded the train the previous morning, except for the time she spent sleeping, Varielky has been standing all the time in the same way she is now. She is fully armoured head to toes with a scale mail and the only part you can see of her body is the part of her face that isn't covered by the helmet. Through it, you can see an anticipating expression. Through an opening in the back of the helmet erupts a long, brown and thick braid, resting on her back. Her blue eyes are looking forward, though not at any particular thing, just forward.
Hearing the young man talk, Varielky looks at him and speaks. This time in common. "A true warrior could handle a day or two without eating, without even thinking about it. Do you not consider yourself a true warrior?" although, just a moment after, her stomach produces a sound that indicates just how hungry she really is.
Ka'imi sits quietly against the wall of the train car, watching the conversations and noting the behavior of the soldiers. Approaching a year of service in the Oraccan Brigade, he's seen a constant stream of people coming in and out of the fighting force.
The worst thing about this year, aside from constantly being away from The Tree, way too much time spent indoors, and the heat? It's been trying to figure out how to sit comfortably but also having his two shortswords and longbow at the ready, just in case. The longer he's been a ranger the more ready he's felt the need to be, at all times.
His blue-green skin and blue-grey hair are easily visible around the scale mail, and even at 120 years there's still a youthfulness to the face. "Gravy, they're acting like they're starving but not sure they'd enjoy the bug guts we had to eat last month after that beetle massacre" he remarks to his right, with a blinking realization that Gravy was transferred two days ago and he's really gotta get off this train.
(OOC: I'm not sure what card/dice games exist in this world and how we could mock those up (i.e. Insight, Deception, Intimidation rolls), but I will wait for a disclaimer from @1973 before we actually play a game so as not to mess with any potential games he has.)
(OOC: Good question! I haven't gotten into this granular level of detail yet. Let's say this: On your tour of duty you've noticed hardly anyone plays the really good [i.e., Dwarven] games you know. Also you lost your set when you were mugged in Jen Ghessa [don't feel too badly, every other single person you have met who has ever been there was also mugged. Indeed, there's an informal competition regarding who was there the shortest length of time before getting robbed]. So these days you play the Imperial games: the card game Slaughterhouse (based on the Orcan game "Slaughter," but now with farm animal pictures of 6 possible suits, as opposed to human stick figures and only one suit in the original); and dice games: Flocks, Spit, and Highrise. At some point down the road, I'll figure out what rolls would lead to a win.)
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DM for Deathworld: Lost Mine of Phandelver// Story Guide for COYOTE and CROW: Cahokia Forever//Dev Horndin Curious Critters//Co-creator: Princes of the Apocalypse - A DnD Story
Ednyss begins teaching Mittens the basics of Slaughterhouse. As he is dealing the cards out, his stomach growls audibly and as he glances around to make sure nobody noticed, anyone can plainly tell, he is not pleased.
(OOC: I think I would still have my sets (i.e. they are a part of of my starting equipment) but if I cannot for some sort of story reason, then I will go back and retcon my introduction)
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“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
Hearing the young man talk, Varielky looks at him and speaks. This time in common. "A true warrior could handle a day or two without eating, without even thinking about it. Do you not consider yourself a true warrior?" although, just a moment after, her stomach produces a sound that indicates just how hungry she really is.
(OOC: In this world, Jenghen is the Common Tongue)
Hungry Boy turns his attention to Varielky. She has noticed him before: young, strong, handsome, skin deep purple with black hair, human, big puppy dog eyes. Varielky is slightly disappointed because up to this moment, she had thought him praiseworthy, according to her way of thinking. Hungry Boy smirks for a beat in silence, folding his hands behind his head and flexing biceps. The Hooded Girl notices this and rolls her eyes, glaring at him. "Oh please."
Hungry Boy says coyly, "Excuse me, but I'm Shian, and if you haven't noticed yet on this trip," (OOC: there are quite a few Shians in the brigade), "we speak our minds. If we want something," and he looks Hooded Girl straight in the eyes "we make our desires known."
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DM for Deathworld: Lost Mine of Phandelver// Story Guide for COYOTE and CROW: Cahokia Forever//Dev Horndin Curious Critters//Co-creator: Princes of the Apocalypse - A DnD Story
Ednyss begins teaching Mittens the basics of Slaughterhouse. As he is dealing the cards out, his stomach growls audibly and as he glances around to make sure nobody noticed, anyone can plainly tell, he is not pleased.
(OOC: I think I would still have my sets (i.e. they are a part of of my starting equipment) but if I cannot for some sort of story reason, then I will go back and retcon my introduction)
(OOC: Apologies: I meant, you lost your Dwarven Game set, but you have the two Imperial Game sets (cards, dice). Will that work?)
DM for Deathworld: Lost Mine of Phandelver// Story Guide for COYOTE and CROW: Cahokia Forever//Dev Horndin Curious Critters//Co-creator: Princes of the Apocalypse - A DnD Story
Ednyss begins teaching Mittens the basics of Slaughterhouse. As he is dealing the cards out, his stomach growls audibly and as he glances around to make sure nobody noticed, anyone can plainly tell, he is not pleased.
(OOC: I think I would still have my sets (i.e. they are a part of of my starting equipment) but if I cannot for some sort of story reason, then I will go back and retcon my introduction)
(OOC: Apologies: I meant, you lost your Dwarven Game set, but you have the two Imperial Game sets (cards, dice). Will that work?)
(OOC: Sounds good!)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
"Gravy, they're acting like they're starving but not sure they'd enjoy the bug guts we had to eat last month after that beetle massacre" he remarks to his right, with a blinking realization that Gravy was transferred two days ago and he's really gotta get off this train.
Ka'imi glances next to him to see with whom he had just shared his thoughts. In Gravy's old spot sits the company commander, Shirei-Kin, a middle-aged Jenghen paladin, the only Jenghen in the car. You've found him to be an able leader, firm but fair. He sometimes makes the rounds and sits among the troops under his command. As you turn, you see he is observing you closely. "And what's wrong with bug guts?," he asks, holding your eyes. Then he drops the veneer, chuckles low in his gut, and admits, "now THAT. That was the worst thing I've had in a long time."
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DM for Deathworld: Lost Mine of Phandelver// Story Guide for COYOTE and CROW: Cahokia Forever//Dev Horndin Curious Critters//Co-creator: Princes of the Apocalypse - A DnD Story
“That’s the thing I miss the most about The Tree and the outskirts, knowing how easy it was to find food from the roots or grasses or even the bugs”
Ka’imi eyes the card game playing out in front of them. Does the distraction keep their mind off of food? Or are they just distracted enough to shut up about wanting the food?
Sitting in one corner of the car is a young man, who is known to the others as Dyn Gwelw. Having either worked with him or seen him around the Brigade, most know he is of quiet demeanor, spending most of his free time in meditation and exercise that clearly demonstrates his hand-to-hand martial arts abilities, though he does work with a staff and Yklwa in a very effective fashion. Dyn Gwelw is tall and very well built and, when asked, will speak of the body being a temple that should be revered and respected. He has never been seen to consume any attitude altering substances, grog, beer, lotus blossom, etc. He respectful of others but, once, when harassed with no let-up by a typical bully, Dyn Gwelw did put him on the ground with a finger hold that reduced the bully to whimpering in agony very carefully applied.
"Food is fuel for the most part, sometimes one has no choice about what has to be eaten, so it is best to accept it as fuel. Saves wasting emotional energy. One should save such for those who need it."
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Panic is a mechanism that strengthens the gene pool.
As you talk, the train slips northward through snow-covered terrain, a sharp rise on the left, and woods to the right. Anyone looking out the right-side slit windows sees a family of spotted deer quietly leap ever so gracefully from the woods and run southward (to your right), just as a red sunrise crests above the tree line, the snow reflecting prismatic rays off of the tallest of the pines.
Suddenly, the train shudders, there is an incredibly loud crashing sound from up ahead, and the entire line of cars begins to jackknife! It derails! The groaning cacophony is almost unbearable, like the sound of a thousand screaming banshees, and you all hold onto your benches for dear life, while some of your compatriots fly, flailing, through the air.
Your boxcar tips and careens off the tracks into the snowbank! Packed slush flies everywhere, a grinding, tearing sound rattles your bones furiously and threatens to shake you all apart, then diminishes. Your car finally comes to a halt, its rear edge flopping listlessly to earth with a resonant THUD, now on its side, the roof facing the woods.
In the ensuing silence, a few snowflakes drift eerily in the air. You and the rest of the troops find yourselves prone, in a tangle of moving bodies, those on the bottom pinned to the wall--the same wall whose windows you’d been gazing through only a minute ago, and which is now the floor. You cast around anxiously. Some of your compatriots, injured in the crash, begin to moan and others shout curses to Ellosh with breath crystallizing in front of them. You can hear the same scene playing out in the muffled distance from the cars in front and behind.
(OOC: All: roll Perception saves vs. AC15 (Hearing)) Spoiler for those who succeed.
[Perception Success: Outside the car, beyond the roof (now the EAST wall) you hear two more crashing thuds. Similar to the sound the car made when it flopped down, but also different.]
DM for Deathworld: Lost Mine of Phandelver// Story Guide for COYOTE and CROW: Cahokia Forever//Dev Horndin Curious Critters//Co-creator: Princes of the Apocalypse - A DnD Story
Clutching the side of his seat with one hand, Ednyss scoops up his cards with his other and manages to avoid getting knocked to the bottom of the pile. "Takal be taken!" He exclaims as he rights himself and regains his bearings. His ears still ringing from the derailing, he shakes his head to rid the sound in his ears. As he does, he listens for any sounds outside that might give a clue as to why the train suddenly derailed.
Perception: 14
He cannot manage to clear the ringing from his ears, unfortunately, and spends the next few moments just shaking his head and trying to rebalance himself.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Ki'ami rolls around the cabin for a second and finds his bearing. He searches for a way out of the car first, and then looks around to see who is damaged or dead.
Perception Roll - 9
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Orraca u Shia! Land of ancient queens. Orraca u Shia! Land of battling gods, of dry steppes and sage-green hillsides, of crashing waves in the south, and the great Bantu Mountains to the north. Orraca u Shia, where the dry sheraji blows off of the Vishek a Voss, whispering north along the Awhar Coast, and thence to the Vale of Deshar, where a young girl finds an unexpected link to the past. The artifact makes its way to the great city of Ishi Ammah, piquing the awareness of those who have sought across eons for the answer to its creation. The chase begins, the mystery deepens, and all eyes are on the unknown heroes who, alone, can change the path of destiny.
POST #1: A COLD, COLD OPEN
Image: Disc Train tracks in the North
Your provincial brigade has been travelling northwest for several weeks, by ship, by foot, and by disc train. It’s been one day of travel, followed by three or four days of waiting, personnel transfers, and reorganization. Then travel again, followed by more waiting and reshuffling. A seemingly endless cycle.
The climate has gotten colder and colder as you’ve moved north, and for this last stretch at high elevation, just before boarding a transport, Material Distributions outfitted the troops with cold-weather hooded cloaks and boots. Just in time, if that. You were already half-frozen.
You’ve been traveling for 36 hours, huddled in boxcars lined up on disc trains skimming along the old Dominion Highway. As the second night passes, the train begins to descend -- into Dreyen territory, the rumor goes. Many of your compatriots are sleeping, a few are grumbling and hungry, wondering when there will be a fresh meal.
In the half-light before dawn, someone points to the slit window, through which Kelitawi is visible high above. He sleeps mournfully in the pale clouds hanging lightly in the sky following a brief snow flurry which you passed through overnight.
A young man in your car, a Shia fighter with a longbow and scimitar, is unimpressed & moody. He turns to the woman to his right and grumbles, “They just sit there and don’t do anything for us. I’m so ‘lloshing hungry I could eat my boots.” She responds, “You do that,” flipping her hood over her head and pretending to nap.
(OOC: Take a moment to describe your character. What do the others in the car see? You may choose whether you’ve been travelling in this car all along, or if you were just shifted into it from a different car the previous morning. You can choose to continue the youngster’s conversation or not.)
DM for Deathworld: Lost Mine of Phandelver // Story Guide for COYOTE and CROW: Cahokia Forever // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Co-creator: Princes of the Apocalypse - A DnD Story
Sitting near the middle of the car with careful eyes glancing back and forth at some of the others who are sitting in a circle, an old dwarf pulls his cloak tightly over his armored shoulders and shivers. He has a long white beard that is left untied but neat. His skin is a cracked grayish color that almost holds the appearance of a rough stone and while he doesn't appear to be very large in size (either height or weight), his armor creates a much more bulky appearance. His sharpened war pick and shield lay on the ground of the car next to him. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a set of intricately carved dice that seem to be made of some kind of bone material. Shaking them quickly in his hands, he smiles at the other players, "Let me show you how it's done." He tosses the dice into the circle and smiles as they come up in a pair. He scoops up his winnings into a pouch at his side eliciting a grumble from some of the other players. "Well fellas, it was nice playing with you," Ednyss says as he stands up to stretch his legs. Reaching down and picking up his equipment, he meanders around the car, eventually wandering to an open seat next to a black cat that looks oddly out of place, he puts out his rough grayish hand and introduces himself to the cat, "The name's Ednyss. You seem awfully far from..." Ednyss pauses as he tries to consider where this cat might have come from, "well... Wherever you came from. What brings you to our brigade?"
(OOC: Any 'winnings' that I got would just be part of my starting gold... It's really just for flavor. Also, in case you couldn't tell, the black cat that I am referring to is Mittens.)
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
Mittens looks up from his book and glares at the complaining man. He has just about had it that guy's incessant whining. It was always, "I'm so hungry," or "I'm so cold." They all were, but they weren't complaining about it. Mittens rolls his eyes and continues studying his tome. His book is large and thick, and it is bound in black leather. Its pages are yellow and wrinkled with time. A simple leather strap attached to it allows him to come and seal it shut when not in use. It is almost as large as his 3' 4" height.
You can see that Mittens is a Cat under his padded clothing. He has short black fur that covers his body. If he wasn't drowning in clothing, you could see that he has white 'tiger stripes' running the length of his body, and he has a grayish underside. He has bright green eyes with the typical feline slit for pupils, and he peers around often at his surroundings with a disdainful expression on his face as if he is not impressed with his surroundings. The fur around his mouth is also white, and he has long whiskers extending around his pink nose. He is just coming into adulthood, but it is difficult for non-Cats to tell. A blackwood staff members tipped with clear quartz is strapped across his back. Sitting in his lap with his large book is Pooky, his familiar. Pooky is an orange stuffed cat toy that looks worn and well used. He has a cream colored underside and blue buttons for his eyes. Red strings trail from its face and act as whiskers. One of his button eyes is missing, and it looks like it has several holes stitched shut across its body.
Mittens joined this plucky group on the last stop, and he hasn't shared his name with anyone onboard. He hated his name. Mittens was his kid name, and he hasn't earned his adult name yet. He was fine with no one asking him his name, and he was fine with not asking anyone in return. He has spent his trip so far poring over his book. He was having trouble mastering this spell called Ray of Sickness. It was simple enough magic, but it frustrated him that he couldn't get it right. With an exasperated sigh, he slams his book shut loudly and sets it aside. He puts his head in his hands and runs his temple before looking around at his surroundings. Realizing that his spell was reaching its limits, he whispers a few well-rehearsed words of power and casts Prestidigitation on himself. His clothing heats up to a comfortable warmth that will last him for an hour. He stretches with a small smile as his magic drives away the cold air. He thinks back in his warm bed he had left behind and how comfortable it was.
His pleasant daydreams poof away as the dwarf speaks to him. He stretches out his paw and shakes the dwarf's hand curtly. He says, "My name is, uh..." Rats! Hurry and think of a cool name! "Mittens. Mittens Toodaloo," he says in a panic. He inwardly groans at his blunder. Way to go, you idiot, he thinks to himself. He continues, "Some higher up was originally assigned to be here, but he delegated his assignment to me, the lazy slouch."
"Huh..." Ednyss says looking curiously at the cat (Insight to see if Ednyss notices Mitten's panic: 16). Noticing the cat's hesitation in giving his name, Ednyss is given pause, but can't remember even learning about this race of people and so he figures that customs may be different. Ednyss settles into the seat next to Mittens and holds out a deck of playing cards. "Care for a game?" Ednyss asks with a grin.
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
Mittens looks at the cards and the scrunches up his face as he thinks for a moment. "Mmmmm... Sure, as long as we don't bet. My boss was a stingy bastard about my wages."
((OOC: Since he is of a smaller race, his voice sounds similar to a human child's))
"No problem." Ednyss says, although he is a little disappointed that we won't be able to make an easy coin off of this fellow. He sits back and begins to shuffle and deal out the cards.
(OOC: I'm not sure what card/dice games exist in this world and how we could mock those up (i.e. Insight, Deception, Intimidation rolls), but I will wait for a disclaimer from @1973 before we actually play a game so as not to mess with any potential games he has.)
(OOC: Ednyss's voice sounds like it used to be a powerful and booming voice, but it is now a little diluted and less intrusive. His voice is also a bit scratchy, almost like two dry stones rubbing against each other.)
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
Standing in the corner, armoured and armed, holding a shield in one hand and a longsword in the other, as if ready to fight every second Varielky stands motionlessly. She's quiet most of the time, except for an occasional whisper in a language that only Mittens seem to understand, though she's unaware of this, that translates to "Unworthy fools. They'll never ascend."
Since she boarded the train the previous morning, except for the time she spent sleeping, Varielky has been standing all the time in the same way she is now. She is fully armoured head to toes with a scale mail and the only part you can see of her body is the part of her face that isn't covered by the helmet. Through it, you can see an anticipating expression. Through an opening in the back of the helmet erupts a long, brown and thick braid, resting on her back. Her blue eyes are looking forward, though not at any particular thing, just forward.
Hearing the young man talk, Varielky looks at him and speaks. This time in common. "A true warrior could handle a day or two without eating, without even thinking about it. Do you not consider yourself a true warrior?" although, just a moment after, her stomach produces a sound that indicates just how hungry she really is.
Varielky | Emma
Ka'imi sits quietly against the wall of the train car, watching the conversations and noting the behavior of the soldiers. Approaching a year of service in the Oraccan Brigade, he's seen a constant stream of people coming in and out of the fighting force.
The worst thing about this year, aside from constantly being away from The Tree, way too much time spent indoors, and the heat? It's been trying to figure out how to sit comfortably but also having his two shortswords and longbow at the ready, just in case. The longer he's been a ranger the more ready he's felt the need to be, at all times.
His blue-green skin and blue-grey hair are easily visible around the scale mail, and even at 120 years there's still a youthfulness to the face. "Gravy, they're acting like they're starving but not sure they'd enjoy the bug guts we had to eat last month after that beetle massacre" he remarks to his right, with a blinking realization that Gravy was transferred two days ago and he's really gotta get off this train.
DM for Deathworld: Lost Mine of Phandelver // Story Guide for COYOTE and CROW: Cahokia Forever // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Co-creator: Princes of the Apocalypse - A DnD Story
Ednyss begins teaching Mittens the basics of Slaughterhouse. As he is dealing the cards out, his stomach growls audibly and as he glances around to make sure nobody noticed, anyone can plainly tell, he is not pleased.
(OOC: I think I would still have my sets (i.e. they are a part of of my starting equipment) but if I cannot for some sort of story reason, then I will go back and retcon my introduction)
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
(OOC: In this world, Jenghen is the Common Tongue)
Hungry Boy turns his attention to Varielky. She has noticed him before: young, strong, handsome, skin deep purple with black hair, human, big puppy dog eyes. Varielky is slightly disappointed because up to this moment, she had thought him praiseworthy, according to her way of thinking. Hungry Boy smirks for a beat in silence, folding his hands behind his head and flexing biceps. The Hooded Girl notices this and rolls her eyes, glaring at him. "Oh please."
Hungry Boy says coyly, "Excuse me, but I'm Shian, and if you haven't noticed yet on this trip," (OOC: there are quite a few Shians in the brigade), "we speak our minds. If we want something," and he looks Hooded Girl straight in the eyes "we make our desires known."
DM for Deathworld: Lost Mine of Phandelver // Story Guide for COYOTE and CROW: Cahokia Forever // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Co-creator: Princes of the Apocalypse - A DnD Story
(OOC: Apologies: I meant, you lost your Dwarven Game set, but you have the two Imperial Game sets (cards, dice). Will that work?)
DM for Deathworld: Lost Mine of Phandelver // Story Guide for COYOTE and CROW: Cahokia Forever // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Co-creator: Princes of the Apocalypse - A DnD Story
(OOC: Sounds good!)
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
Ka'imi glances next to him to see with whom he had just shared his thoughts. In Gravy's old spot sits the company commander, Shirei-Kin, a middle-aged Jenghen paladin, the only Jenghen in the car. You've found him to be an able leader, firm but fair. He sometimes makes the rounds and sits among the troops under his command. As you turn, you see he is observing you closely. "And what's wrong with bug guts?," he asks, holding your eyes. Then he drops the veneer, chuckles low in his gut, and admits, "now THAT. That was the worst thing I've had in a long time."
DM for Deathworld: Lost Mine of Phandelver // Story Guide for COYOTE and CROW: Cahokia Forever // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Co-creator: Princes of the Apocalypse - A DnD Story
“That’s the thing I miss the most about The Tree and the outskirts, knowing how easy it was to find food from the roots or grasses or even the bugs”
Ka’imi eyes the card game playing out in front of them. Does the distraction keep their mind off of food? Or are they just distracted enough to shut up about wanting the food?
Sitting in one corner of the car is a young man, who is known to the others as Dyn Gwelw. Having either worked with him or seen him around the Brigade, most know he is of quiet demeanor, spending most of his free time in meditation and exercise that clearly demonstrates his hand-to-hand martial arts abilities, though he does work with a staff and Yklwa in a very effective fashion. Dyn Gwelw is tall and very well built and, when asked, will speak of the body being a temple that should be revered and respected. He has never been seen to consume any attitude altering substances, grog, beer, lotus blossom, etc. He respectful of others but, once, when harassed with no let-up by a typical bully, Dyn Gwelw did put him on the ground with a finger hold that reduced the bully to whimpering in agony very carefully applied.
"Food is fuel for the most part, sometimes one has no choice about what has to be eaten, so it is best to accept it as fuel. Saves wasting emotional energy. One should save such for those who need it."
Panic is a mechanism that strengthens the gene pool.
"So you're saying you can still hold? I'll see if that's true or just empty talk."
Varielky | Emma
POST #2
As you talk, the train slips northward through snow-covered terrain, a sharp rise on the left, and woods to the right. Anyone looking out the right-side slit windows sees a family of spotted deer quietly leap ever so gracefully from the woods and run southward (to your right), just as a red sunrise crests above the tree line, the snow reflecting prismatic rays off of the tallest of the pines.
Suddenly, the train shudders, there is an incredibly loud crashing sound from up ahead, and the entire line of cars begins to jackknife! It derails! The groaning cacophony is almost unbearable, like the sound of a thousand screaming banshees, and you all hold onto your benches for dear life, while some of your compatriots fly, flailing, through the air.
Your boxcar tips and careens off the tracks into the snowbank! Packed slush flies everywhere, a grinding, tearing sound rattles your bones furiously and threatens to shake you all apart, then diminishes. Your car finally comes to a halt, its rear edge flopping listlessly to earth with a resonant THUD, now on its side, the roof facing the woods.
In the ensuing silence, a few snowflakes drift eerily in the air. You and the rest of the troops find yourselves prone, in a tangle of moving bodies, those on the bottom pinned to the wall--the same wall whose windows you’d been gazing through only a minute ago, and which is now the floor. You cast around anxiously. Some of your compatriots, injured in the crash, begin to moan and others shout curses to Ellosh with breath crystallizing in front of them. You can hear the same scene playing out in the muffled distance from the cars in front and behind.
(OOC: All: roll Perception saves vs. AC15 (Hearing)) Spoiler for those who succeed.
[Perception Success: Outside the car, beyond the roof (now the EAST wall) you hear two more crashing thuds. Similar to the sound the car made when it flopped down, but also different.]
What do you do/say?
DM for Deathworld: Lost Mine of Phandelver // Story Guide for COYOTE and CROW: Cahokia Forever // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Co-creator: Princes of the Apocalypse - A DnD Story
Clutching the side of his seat with one hand, Ednyss scoops up his cards with his other and manages to avoid getting knocked to the bottom of the pile. "Takal be taken!" He exclaims as he rights himself and regains his bearings. His ears still ringing from the derailing, he shakes his head to rid the sound in his ears. As he does, he listens for any sounds outside that might give a clue as to why the train suddenly derailed.
Perception: 14
He cannot manage to clear the ringing from his ears, unfortunately, and spends the next few moments just shaking his head and trying to rebalance himself.
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
Ki'ami rolls around the cabin for a second and finds his bearing. He searches for a way out of the car first, and then looks around to see who is damaged or dead.
Perception Roll - 9