Splinters of Faith

Game Master Ayrphish

Got a friendly neighborhood drawfriend to make a portrait of Wodin, and I figured I'd show it off here. ;)

Wodin blinks a couple times before looking around for the source of the voice. Shrugging again, he speaks, "Still ain't got th' foggiest what yer talkin' about."

Gow looks around but can't identify where the voice came from. Hello? Scary voice thing? You're the first person...you are a person, right?...who is familiar with players. Have you met yours? Gow pauses, awestruck, as he figures out an explanation. With excitement and apprehension, he continues, "Wait a minute. I haven't seen the blue writings for a while. Could you be ... ... ... Johnson come in flesh?"

In case it's not totally clear, my name IRL is Johnson. It's fun being a deity. :-)

There's the writing again! O Great One, show yourself, that your servant may gaze upon your beauteous face.

@Froth, now would be a perfect time to reveal your Orc/Qlippoth Tiefling. Gow's in for a shock, lol.

My elf oracle, Vlagras:

"Father was one of the first ones. They're the only deities you need concern yourself with. He talks to me sometimes. He always said Players are a bunch of unwashed miscreants with no lives, still sucking at their mamma's teet. If you can get rid of yours, your better off without him."

Wodin waves a hand before him. "Aye, whate'er ya say. Me father al'ays said 'at a fellow who speaks nonsense ain't worth trifflin' with."

@Froth That doesn't sound like my Player at all. He's wise and powerful, and he cares about me. I don't think I want to talk to you anymore, creepy voice guy; you're scary. The Great Dane beside Gow lets out an angry "Raawwk!" Gow turns to him: "That's right buddy, you tell him."

Rasim stands up after finishing his drink and walks up to Gow.
I don't know what this 'Player' business is all about, but won't you tell me some more about it? Have a drink on me.

Than he pets the Great Dane on his head You're no real dog now are you? Either that or a very talented one

1d20 ⇒ 1

"Nice doggy. Hmm, tasty doggy?"

"Hey gnome... BOO!"

@DM: Working on the backstory ...most of it I'd like to remain secret-ish, if only to be more "spaghetti western" ish ...could I write two versions, for the boards and for you?

The old man in the corner stops noodling his guitar. He spits. "Gods. Deities. Ain't no matter what you call 'em. All useless in the end; more capricious than even us. Y'make yer own way or y'die."

@DM: Working on the backstory ...most of it I'd like to remain secret-ish, if only to be more "spaghetti western" ish ...could I write two versions, for the boards and for you?

sure

@Rasim, need a Will Save when you pet the doggie.

Yay! Someone who's nice! I'm always happy to talk about my Player. And Birdy NumNum likes you too! He gestures to the empty seat across from him. Have a seat, and let's chat.

Gow shakes a fist at the general direction of the menacing voice and exclaims, "Creepy voice, I'm done talking to you. Leave me alone!" Turning back to the human, he asks "What did you want to know?"

Will Save 1d20 ⇒ 9

@Gow, it was because of the difference in sound of the Great Dane that Rasim made that remark.

Birdy NumNum you say? Well I did hear the sounds of some kind of bird from where I was sitting He points over to where the empty whiskey glass stands. Rasim takes an 'empty' seat according to Gow

"Well, the thing is I'm always curious about unusual stories and if a thunderous voice appears out of nothing, this might be a very interesting one.
What is a 'Player' exactly? And what is he to you?

Quick question on how your doing encumbrances and then I am all but done

@Rasim, don't worry, the chair actually is empty.

Yeah, the scary voice got Birdy NumNum all riled up. I felt like having a dog today. Good thing too: they probably wouldn't have let me in here normally.

The story really is fascinating; I was quite surprised myself when I figured it out. Players are the people running the game. We can't see them, but they're out there somewhere watching us and controlling our words and actions. I read about them in an old book I found a long time ago. It was by an ancient wizard named Gy-gax. Or maybe he was a cleric, I'm not sure. The writing was very hard to understand: lots of strange words, but the book was full of rules and instructions for improving your life, so I think it might have been a religious text.

But that's besides the point. To answer your question, Players run the game of life. They oversee all the workings of the universe, but each Player also manages one of us. Mine's named Johnson. He's really nice and talks to me with the blue words like the ones that appeared when you petted Birdy NumNum. I don't know where that voice is coming from, but it scares me a little.

What about you? Tell me about yourself. Have you met your player yet?

@DM and other Players: I'm having a blast, but let me know if he gets to be too much. Gow just isn't the same in a live PFS game; the PbP mechanic really brings out the insanity of the character.

A tall female elf, with jet-black hair and clouded eyes, walks in the room from outside, squinting at the direction of the mad gnome jabberings.

Players? control us? What not of our gods-given freedom to act and control of our own destinies? I, for one, am not bound by these players' demands. I go freely where the battle takes me.

As she says this, Vlagras climbs on to a table, reaching out with one hand clenched in a fist.

Vlagras blinks her eyes and realizes she has overreacted yet again and climbs down from the table.

Great, that was a wonderful way to "casually" enter the scene. This gnome must have some residue of something fey in his blood, that and mind control abilities.

Vlagras scuttles to the opposite side of the room.

Wodin chuckles lightly. "Aye, th' high-strung elf is right. I do as I please, an' only Torag 'imself has any say 'bout it." The paladin begins to coil the chain of his weapon, setting it down besides himself as he sinks into one of the chairs.

Twin pricks of light bloom in the darkness to one end of the room. They glow red, flickering ever so slightly, as if containing or holding back a flickering flame.

"Doesn't matter whether you're free to choose your actions or not, for unless you're good enough to gain the Starstone, every one of us is going to die, and anything we accomplish won't matter a bit to anyone within two generations of your kin.

The flames, like eyes, detach from the wall and shift with a bulk so large most had assumed it was part of the building. A green skinned creature, so tall his head brushes the ceiling beams, comes slowly into view. He smiles a wicked smile.

"That's why its best to take what you can from life, while you can. If it's a battle with fate, free will, and the gods, I plan to fight hard and rip as much joy as I can from every skirmish.

Gow jumps slightly as the giant nightmare creature steps into view but strangely doesn't seem afraid. He speaks up with a bright, friendly tone that oddly enough has no trace of insanity.

So you're the scary voice guy. Now I see why you always talk so mean, but it's okay, I know what it's like to be different and to have people look at you funny. What's your story? I don't know what a Starstone is, but it sounds important. Are you looking for it? Do you need help?

After he says this, Gow blinks a few times and resumes talking in his usual tone. Your eyes are really interesting. Can I borrow them? Gow waves a hand in front of his face, and his eyes suddenly begin to glow red and flicker.

Wodin gives the oversized fellow an unimpressed look. "Speak f'r yerself, lad. My devotion'll be rewarded. They say Torag's truly faithful'll be reborn in stone, to serve in his name f'r eternity. An' e'en if that's just a myth," he says, an honest smile on his face, "Then I'll 'ave five-hundred years o' me kin rememb'rin' me. That's no' bad at all.

"If ya don' find somethin' t' believe in, then when it's darkest, ya won' have nothin'," the dwarven man leans back in his seat and lifts the wooden holy symbol at his belt into plain view, continuing calmly, "an' I'd much rather have somethin'."

"Well Gow, I haven't met my 'Player' yet, as I agree with the tall elf that just stepped in, our life is our own to decide
He flicks the coin in his hand again, going back and forth across his knuckles.
A faint chuckle in his voice can be heard "I have lived a life full of hardships on the streets, seen more violence than most men of my age, my 'Player' must have a weird sense of humour...

Than looking at both the Dwarf and the tall orc: "I agree with the orc on this Wodin. Aye, you may be rewarded for your devotion, though when this reward comes to pass is up to Lady Luck and your own skills. But also the dwarf is true, having nothing to believe in, is going down a lonely path.
He throws the coin he was still keeping in his hand high into the air, not following the movement of the coin at all, then suddenly plucks the coin out of the air behind him.
As he holds the coin up for everyone to see, he says:
I have put my faith in Lady Luck and my skills to survive, and for the moment that has been and will be enough.

The tall rogue sits back in the chair at Gow's table, pulling his cloak a little tighter and preparing to get a short nap in the chair.

"Fate an' luck are well an' good t' preach about, but I ain't puttin' me faith in nothin' that ain't done nothin' f'r me. I can feel Torag's blessin' in me blood, I know th' warmth o' his forge e'ery time I lift a hammer. What has luck done f'r me?" the dwarf asks incredulously. "Ain't nothin' I didn't do f'r meself," he finishes, tapping himself on the chest.

"That is what I meant my dwarven friend" Rasim is rocking in the chair while talking.
"Luck and your own skills decide your fate and destiny. If, like you, you have a patron's blessing you can feel, that is all the more positive, you might not need Luck as badly as others...."

He pulls on his hood again and starts rocking a bit more slowly in his chair trying to get some shut-eye. All the while grumbling a bit very softly
"Not everyone is blessed you know, some of us need to rely solely on their own talents"

Is cluttering up recruitment threads with roleplay banter a thing here?

Wodin shrugs from his relaxed position in his own chair. "Whate'er ya say, lad."

Is cluttering up recruitment threads with roleplay banter a thing here?

[snip]

I am sure I forgot some information, so feel free to ask questions, and to begin 'playing' your characters in this forum.

Generally helps to read the OP, bud.

Vlagras walks up to the counter and orders something to drink.

Perhaps I should move closer to these people. The dwarf did say I had a point and this talk of devotion to luck sounds interesting. Perhaps it is a new mystery, although he doesn't look much like an oracle.

Vlagras takes her drink and moves closer to the conversation, although trying to stay away from the gnome with the glowing eyes.

Sorry about my overreaction, earlier. I am Vlagras.

Vlagras looks over to the half-orc, I agree that life is in the joy of the battle, but to solely for the joy of it only misses the divine nature of it.

Suddenly the giant Orc-creature sits bolt upright, knocking over his table, and sending the earthenware dishes flying.

"You know, may we've been thinking about this thing all wrong. The gnome is the first creature 'sides my ol' man who's ever made mention of these players. I never given' 'em much thought since I never put any o' that rambling in the same pot as sense. Half-mad, half-sleeping god-like critter on the edge of the abyss? But then, think about it, what if the players are real. Then what are they? 'Sides a bunch o' depressed mamma's boys who ain't ever amounted to nothin'..."

Actually, I'm quite successful in my profession, not to mention my hobbies.

"You hear somthin'? Anywho, we got this bunch o' losers, who ain't never seen a girl, sitting round and pretended to got somethin' better."

Actually, I'm happily married to my high school sweetheart. Two kids.

"Wassat? Nevermind. But if they control our actions, what does that make 'em? What would we call a creature that took control o' your body, and controlled its every action, never letting you do a thing? Why only the darkest of creatures, and the blackest of the gods would take over your whole life. But these critters, these players, they take it a step further; they can even control your thoughts, you intentions, and your very being. Worse than anything those black gods would do, they take control of your very soul!"

I don't think I like where this line of reasoning is going.

"Every one o' you, even the dwarf, gotta admit that if such a creature was about, it would be the foulest thing you could ever think of. Well if we're looking for something noble and grand to do, we should oppose that!"

The massive Orc-beast leans down and picks up his table, setting it back right on the floor. He then leans over it, both hands pressing on the wood till it groans under his weight.

"We should make a pact, here and now, to find a way to hunt down our players, and kill every last one of them! Who's with me?"

Wodin chuckles softly. "Whate'er makes ya happy, laddy. If such a thin' does exist, I don' think there'd be much we could do 'bout it, anyway. I'll be happy as lon' as I can drink and pray, really." He smiles serenely, looking quite calm, even despite the orc-ish fellow's yelling. "As long as ya decide to do what's right, I don't really mind ya doin' what ya want."

Vlagras spits out her drink and stands up.

This blasted gnome is going to get us killed.

I for one will not stand for the slaughter of these players as you call them. Gods let us act with free will. Yes, they channel divine powers through our bodies, but the gods do not control our actions. This forsaken gnome is trying to plant things into our heads to turn all of us against each other.

Vlagras turns to the gnome, Gnome, what do you have to say for yourself?

I love it! Blame the gnome!

This is taking a dark turn. Anyone here see the "Gamers" movie? Not "Dorkness Rising", the original one. I don't want to die. :-)

The "dog" fixes his gaze on the shouting Orc and hisses.

Gow-Wabber looks puzzled as he stares at the empty air for a minute. He mumbles softly to himself, "Gamers? Movie? Dork-ness? What can these be?"

Shaking his head for a minute, Gow turns to the elf. The glow fades from his eyes, and the madness leaves his voice as he answers. I think I owe all of you an apology. I'll be the first to admit that my beliefs are...unorthodox, and this isn't the first time I've inadvertently caused offense. Even my own clan ran me off as a heretic. My life is a lonely one, and Birdy NumNum he gestures at the "dog" is my only friend.

Really though, don't all religions sound strange to those who haven't had their eyes opened? He turns to the Dwarf. You seem a pious man and speak openly of your faith. Your Player is Torag, mine is Johnson. Are we really that different?

Gow-Wabber shifts his gaze to the Orc and continues, "You at least know that I'm not crazy, as you speak of the Players as well. But you're looking at them wrong. It's true that Johnson controls my thoughts and actions, but is that really such a bad thing? I mean, I have a giant Orc-thing screaming at me and throwing furniture. You're three times my size and could easily squash me like an insect if you felt like it. But I'm not afraid of you. If the Players' will for me to die, I know that there's nothing I can do about it. My Player brought me into this world on a whim and can remove me just as easily. Since I have no control, I'm free to enjoy life and have the assurance that whatever I do and say has already been determined by someone much wiser than this humble Gnome.

Gow makes eye contact with each person as he concludes his speech. Hopefully you can see that I meant no offense by my remarks. Johnson's writings are often strange and filled with words I don't fully understand. When I say things that seem disconnected from reality, please do not be offended or alarmed. I'm merely communing with a Higher Power - much like I assume the Dwarf does during his devotions. For now, as I see that tempers are getting high, I respectfully request your pardon and suggest that conversations shift to a less controversial topic than religion.

As Gow concludes his speech, his demeanor changes as he resumes his insane mannerisms. After a moment, his eyes take on a cloudy hue that matches the elf as he exclaims, "Glowy eyes got boring. White's funny!" Prestidigitation's a fun spell. It sure is!

"Jus' ain't pleased with the thought that me actions ain't me own... and I'm positive it ain't the case. But as lon' as ya ain't forcin' this stuff on nobody, I don' particularly mind," Wodin says, shifting in his seat. "But seriously, what's a fella gotta do t' get a drink in 'is place?"

Fine, just know this, gnome, words and actions have consequences regardless of your ravings.

Vlagras turns, goes back to her seat, and chugs a part of her drink.

So what brings you to this tavern in this ghost town?

I have seen both parts of the "Gamers" immediately thought of it as well :)

Rasim gets out of his chair and walks towards the bar and orders another two whiskey from the bar. Then walks nonchalantly towards the table of the dwarf.
"Here you go my dwarven friend, this is on me" as he puts down one glass of whiskey in front of the dwarf.

Still intrigued by the gnome and his rantings, he goes back to his old seat.

"Well, everyone here has a story. Mine might just be not as interesting as others, perhaps just the opposite"... His gaze shifts awkwardly towards the dwarf. Somehow he gets the feeling that the law might be in this place.
"My name is Rasim, a scout of sorts"
He takes a sip from his whiskey. "I have learned that information is always a useful commodity, a commodity which I can provide in my way. Further more there is not much to tell, I grew up in a small town called Dramwal, which isn't that known in the world, however I have moved around alot, especially to the larger city next to it".

"But enough about me, what are your stories and your names?"

The larger script wasn't meant to be yelling, but just to indicate the booming nature of his voice. However, I'll cut it out.

"Bah. No takers huh? Yah, yer just happy bein' pawns I guess."

The large man sidles up to the elf and her table and takes a seat. The chair creaks dangerously, but holds.

"Another pitcher!" he shouts, one hand raised. The arm looks too long for the giant's body, despite his massive size. He looks as though someone attached a giant's arm to his body at the shoulder.

He turns to the elf, "So you seem to have more sense than most; what's your deal?"

When the pitcher come he scoops it up in one hand. It looks like a stein in his huge mitt. Instead of offering any, he just drinks directly from it, like it was intended to be a mug.

I figured, Froth, but it'd still come off as yelling to Wodin and his Dwarven ears. ;)

Wodin knocks back the shot of whiskey without even flinching, smiling happy as the liquid pours down his throat. "Ah, now that's better. Ain't nothin' like a good drink af'er a good argument," he says, before standing and facing the others. "Name's Wodin Earthbreaker, an' as you 'ave likely guessed, I'm a servant of Torag. Where there's evil, 'at's where I'll be, ready to stop it."

"I'm Froth, servant of Froth. Where something needs killing, I'll be there killin'"

Perking up from his quite corner "An orc who serves himself and does killing your quite the original" rising "So tell me orc are you faithless or just ignorant"

Perking up from his quite corner "An orc who serves himself and does killing your quite the original" rising "So tell me orc are you faithless or just ignorant"

"Sorry we can't all be Dwarven Clerics of Torag, though that would make for a rather boring world. I said what I said to contrast myself from him.. Not that I got anything against 'im, a'course.

"And you should know, goblin, that I ain't no Orc. I'm something different; something more.". Eyes of fire squint at the tiny creature. "I admire your spirit though, small fry; not many your size would talk down to someone bigger than a dozen of his kin together.". He pats the goblin on the back, almost delicately, so as not to hurt him. "Here, let me buy you a drink. Another pitcher!

He settled back I to his chair, bringing on another set of groans from the furniture. "As for killin', I do what I do cause its the only thing that makes me feel like I'm alive. I was fathered by some nameless thing from the pits, and I wasn't born; I ripped my way out a' the poor woman who bore me. My first kill coincided with my first free moment on this world, so what do you think that makes me? Not a happy fellow, I'll tell you that. But when the battles are raging and the foes are lined up against you, none o' that matters a lick; it's jut you against them. It's the purity that I live for; no purer moment than the kill."

"As for the gods? Just never made sense o' them. My sire was older than the lot of them put together, and stands for the destruction of everything. Think the gods are gonna want anything to do with me? And what are the gods anyway, if there's critters like my pa out there anyway? To many questions unanswered for me to start worshippin' one o' them. So maybe I am ignorant, you decide."

Indecently, I'm a big fan of Goblin protagonists; have been ever since discovering the Goblins webcomic. I've even played Goblin Wizard. He was He Who Reads. He was a lot of fun. He had a warg Familiar who was cast out of his pack. Warg was on the 3.5 Improved Familiar list, so the GM let me have one. Cool beans.

Glad to know there is more of us out there. Conversely I saw froth's statement and couldn't resist the chance at an in party philosophy debate
Hopping back on to his own seat "Ah so your parentage is not so mundane as I thought"a slight grin appears on his face Let me ask you this then I am a goblin correct it is within my nature to burn and destroy. To worship a foul god and to eventually die before reaching old age. All these things point to me being a violent creature and here I am calmly sitting in among being of all different races having a drink an a chat. The point of my rambling on is that My fate, Your fate, and every one else fates are not dictated by the beings from which we came but by our own actions and the actions of those around us."

Vlagras jumps a little at the voice of the goblin.

While I appreciate the revelations that my curse has granted me, but alas sometimes it is a bit difficult to see dangers.

She waits and studies the goblin seeing what goblin does next. Overreacting would be something Vlagras did not want to do in this situation.

Gow-Wabber sits quietly and sips at his drink. The cloudiness is gone from his eyes, and he seems almost sane. He simply listens and tries not to draw any more attention to himself. Gow doesn't want to cause any more trouble by responding to the Goblin and hopes that the others will forget about the fuss he caused.

I present Zale for consideration

Weary from his travels, Zale steps into the room dusting himself off from the weather outside and starts to make his way across the room.

It takes a second for Zale to process the ... unique collection of individuals contained in this area before he starts backing up slowly towards the door.

Sitting comfortably in the chair, Rasim listens to the lifestory of Froth and the calm statement of the goblin.

And here I was, thinking I am the one with the most troubled past. Well everyone runs for something I guess, bad parenthood, cast out, or a bounty on their head.

Hearing the footsteps behind him, Rasim turns his head towards the door.
"Come on in, we don't bite...yet" He says with a grin. "Your first drink is on me so introduce yourself"

Vlagras notices the new bar patron backing up. She smirks at the human.

At least I have the guts to sit with a goblin, an orc, and a mad gnome, albeit uneasily.

Yes, do have seat. Be a fearless adventurer! Vlagras picks up her drink and thrusts it in the air.