"Just doing what comes naturally... " chuckles softly with a devious little smile.
Salazar glares at Salacious and Faeryl The "weaker sex" is standing before you, you know. I understand you and yours hold the power, but it is still painful to refer to all of us as tools... he says as he polishes his pistol defeatedly, knowing he has no power to disagree with them
Hurkkagg stoically lurks in the shadows.
The hairy brute keeps sentinel on his mistress, whilst rightfully wary of the fickle belligerence of the assembled drow females.
When the male speaks out, the scarred bugbear's eyes narrow;
Even stupid Hurkkagg know not to speak out. Think it sometimes. Say it never.
Let them say what they're gonna say, Tazan. If it's not your web, don't go stomping around in the middle of it. Keep out of the way and see where your angle is...
No rush! *Brandishes a red hot poker to force a bit of haste into applicants* :P
Changed Thades to Sashin, and set her up as a torturer partner/potential lover with Salacious.
If Sashin makes it and Salacious doesn't, would love to have a partner. Guts required.
Just be accepting of all kinds of dark activities :)
Posting from my phone, but when I get back to my computer, will definitely finish up her crunch and fluff.
Got a good story prepared, I think.
Just an update from me, I have decided to change Tazennin from a luring cavalier to a deep walker ranger. I'll be updating him on all fronts in the next few days. What an amazing list of applicants.
Tis indeed - one of the most creative and interesting group of applications I've seen in a long time - kudos to all.
Am I crazy or is there a pretty decent parallel between a drow story and a mob story? Admittedly I may have seen Casino and Goodfellas about a zillion times already this year.
Hmm... Would you be willing to let an Occultist class in?
Also question.... Is the "Evil" handled like it was in Way of the Wicked? I know they are made by the same people and all, but most Drow are CE buggers.
Redblade8, I would say so, because they're almost as a rule vicious, greedy, power-mongering psychopaths in one form or another.
Arcanic Drake, you did not make it in time for the cut-off for new applicants, BUT I am creating a Razor Coast campaign, so you may apply with the Occultist there after I finish getting the recruitment ready.
Well, thank you. I might try to get in on that. Just tell me when you have it up k.
Will do, Arcanic Drake.
Redblade8, I would say so, because they're almost as a rule vicious, greedy, power-mongering psychopaths in one form or another.
That's all in how you view it I suppose. Vito and Michael Corleone weren't psychopaths, not in the least. Their story is about showing how two men, family men, fathers, could make rational choices in the environments they live in, in order to best protect and provide for their families. Neither of them killed simply for the sake of killing. They had a code of honor, and they lived by it.
Man it is hard to get this background together properly. Almost finished. Unfortunately RL sucked a lot of time this weekend. Should have my Oracle done tomorrow.
Is there room still for a (good) tiefling necromancer?
An interesting point Kolaiah, but not all mobsters were that way. There are far too many examples of the 'mad dog mobsters' to portray them, to a man, as the Corleones. This is coming from a man who had relatives in the mafia/mob. There were many that were otherwise upright people who just happened to be mobsters, but unfortunately, the bad seeds ruined that image by going on kill sprees, being needlessly cruel, and such. That is pretty much the image most people get when they think of it, even if I disagree. Hence my response was primarily keyed to the image that they have, not necessarily the reality and that depicted in movies like The Godfather. One day, I may link the 'Cosa Nostra: The Young Turks of Mia Famiglia' campaign, which was a great d20 modern campaign where the PCs were up and coming mobsters back in the golden days before everything went downhill for the Mob. The interactions were interesting and between the babbos mucking up good schemes occasionally and a comare of one of the PCs turning snitch after she found out his real job, it was full of interesting complications, especially since one of the characters had a crisis of faith along the way! Eventually, the PCs claimed the positions of Don, Capo Satto, and Capo, becoming the leaders after an intense shadow war went on that ended with most of the higher-ups being slaughtered. It was a GREAT campaign! And yes, I'm a shameless old-school mafia fanboy!
Tirion, that sucks to hear how real life was for you this weekend, but it was wonderful for me because of the Dragons of Tarkir Prerelease and all the good cards I got from it. I sincerely wish you a much better upcoming week!
Mr. GM, sir? Are you still recruiting?
Did you post before the cut-off date for applicants? If not, then unfortunately, recruitment is closed. Also, good PCs would be VERY hard to play in this AP and would slip to evil, or at best neutral, very quickly.
PG-13 is just my way of saying keep it light on the details. There's no need for a 2,000 word description of how a Gnome was flayed, because many people, a category which does not include myself, squick out about graphic depictions of torture. As well, there are some things, like rape, that should not even be used in a campaign. My old PCs even shied away from things such as that last subject even when they were doing an evil campaign and using the Book of Vile Darkness to get a lot of their crunch from and trust me, they were EVIL! Some things are just less tasteful in an environment like PBP unless everyone has worked out that they are ok with it. If you want to add a torture scene or even a (consensual) sex scene, you can spoiler it. As for licentious talk, that is nothing to even consider blocking really, unless it somehow gets awkward. I usually do not put a PG-13 rating on campaigns, as I am fond of incorporating mature subject matter tastefully, but in an evil campaign it can get out of hands with all the ids (I know Freudian theorem is discredited, but you get the point,) running rampant. As a seasoned PBP GM, I have seen it get REALLY uncomfortable, so I try not to let it go that far.
Just thought I would clarify that it does not necessarily mean that PCs have to be Saturday-morning cartoon villains, but that PCs are expected to not make each other feel uncomfortable.
Works for me! as long as I'm not the one being tortured and devoured.. lol
"WHile I enjoy a little rough play now and again, I am not enamoured of being ritually tortured... let's save that for our enemies, my dear. Or random strangers if it would please you to have a plaything and there are no better candidates available." Faeryl looks to each stranger she meets to see if she finds one who will be an entertaining subject for Ruul to torture and eat... perhaps not totally in that order.
She places a hand on his arm, which is somewhat of a reach for her, and smiles up at Ruul with a look of true devotion and affection, as much as her kind can have and show. "Dearest Ruul, no need to be shamed... I wish only for you to be happy."
I suppose someone here would make a good candidate... though perhaps we should wait until we decide who is worth keeping around until we start deciding who gets to torture whom. Salazar says with a half grin on his face, remembering his more favored forms of torture. I would be careful with whom you eat though, one never knows where the rabble has been...
Sashin is ready, and would like to take part in any torture taking place, whether on another or herself, as long as she does not end up dead.
And so those who shall find pleasure in pain shall feel the true enlightenment.
"Ah yes, good Sashin. I've heard it said that of all the things we can feel, pain is the purest and sweetest, for it drives everything else from our awareness and focuses us as perfectly as we can ever be focused. I am most honored to be able to facilitate that clarity of focus for another. Ruul is my means of doing so, as I'd hate to.. I don't know.. break a nail? Despite not getting my own hands dirty, my intentions are pure and well-meant."
PG-13 is just my way of saying keep it light on the details. There's no need for a 2,000 word description of how a Gnome was flayed, because many people, a category which does not include myself, squick out about graphic depictions of torture. As well, there are some things, like rape, that should not even be used in a campaign. My old PCs even shied away from things such as that last subject even when they were doing an evil campaign and using the Book of Vile Darkness to get a lot of their crunch from and trust me, they were EVIL! Some things are just less tasteful in an environment like PBP unless everyone has worked out that they are ok with it. If you want to add a torture scene or even a (consensual) sex scene, you can spoiler it. As for licentious talk, that is nothing to even consider blocking really, unless it somehow gets awkward. I usually do not put a PG-13 rating on campaigns, as I am fond of incorporating mature subject matter tastefully, but in an evil campaign it can get out of hands with all the ids (I know Freudian theorem is discredited, but you get the point,) running rampant. As a seasoned PBP GM, I have seen it get REALLY uncomfortable, so I try not to let it go that far.
Just thought I would clarify that it does not necessarily mean that PCs have to be Saturday-morning cartoon villains, but that PCs are expected to not make each other feel uncomfortable.
I also think that the classic "suggestion" vs "description" can also work incredibly well in that context. Less is more if you will.
I'm running a pbp set in Iobaria that doesn't spare the brutality in combat and grimdark tropes. The PCs latest protagonists are a clan of hagspawned cannibalistic cave mongers. There's been evidence and suggestion that children and infants have been devoured, but I've drawn the line (and will do so) at depicting such acts in-game. The group have no doubts these are bad, rotten ba$tards and deserve to be put down.
My 2 runes worth
So will selections be soon?
Oh Overseer of Azathyr when will the choices be known for this great expedition?
"Ah yes, good Sashin. I've heard it said that of all the things we can feel, pain is the purest and sweetest, for it drives everything else from our awareness and focuses us as perfectly as we can ever be focused. I am most honored to be able to facilitate that clarity of focus for another. Ruul is my means of doing so, as I'd hate to.. I don't know.. break a nail? Despite not getting my own hands dirty, my intentions are pure and well-meant."
"Dear Faeryl, I appreciate the offer, but I do not allow such beasts to perform my rituals. For the Midnight Lord recognizes those who have perfected the art of torture, not merely using brute force to open the 'path' to enlightenment. If you are serious in not wanting to 'break a nail', then my lord has no interest in sharing his techniques. If, however, this beast wishes to know true pleasure, I will be glad to show him the way."
Xellen perched atop a wall atop a nearby building, relaxing with a languid grace, and chuckled down at the group. With mock excitement he chides "And I suppose next you'll all eat babies and kick the elderly or wounded to prove how evil and despicable you are?" Laughing scornfully, he leaned back on a crenelation. "Not one bit of subtlety among you." He looks over at Salazar, "Except maybe you." He grins seemingly without a care, "No matter though, all the better for me."
"The Prince of Darkness is not so grotesque in his appetites, nor is he so exclusive and racist wih regards to the approval of his followers, for as the Lord of Contracts, he recognizes that it is the content of his servitor's hearts that is more important than their material looks."
"The Prince of Darkness is not so grotesque in his appetites, nor is he so exclusive and racist wih regards to the approval of his followers, for as the Lord of Contracts, he recognizes that it is the content of his servitor's hearts that is more important than their material looks."
"Oh, Kolaiah, you misunderstood me. I did not deny him our particular style of worship. I merely forbid him from practicing his torture on me, until I can show him the correct way. I am not as racist as you claim, nor as exclusive. There are just ways to correctly do things, and I offer the teaching necessary.
Of course, I mean no disrespect to Asmodeus, and apologize ahead if any of my words bring such.
As to our grotesque tastes, you have me there. I can't deny that out worship may scare outsiders. The weak are often wary of the strong.
And isn't your outward appearance a facet of your inner heart? We Kuthites believe that we should express our personality through our physical looks, molding and shaping them until they are to our liking."
Gneiati looks about as she makes her way through the streets of the town.
Why do these drow so insist on brutality and carnal pleasures? Does it truly add value to their lives?
Seeing the man sitting on the wall and the others yelling insults, she calls out:
Why would you use torture or require contracts? Can the tortured not still lie? Can the contract not be broken?
------
May I present the mostly finished Gneiati - morally ambiguous Dark Tapestry Oracle.
--> still need equipment, will try to finish that this evening.
Gneiati sat near the fire, slowly turning a blind lizard which was stuck on the end of her dagger. She looked up at the other drifters who had gathered here where dried fungus were plentiful to feed the blaze. Sure, it attracted unwanted attention on occasion, but that was why she had become an expert at making herself more difficult to find. That and the fact that she knew she did not need to outrun the monsters. She only had to be fast enough to outrun the next slowest member of the gathering.
After taking a bite, she continued her story.
I think that the last straw for me in the strange place they call a monastery was when they found me pulling the legs off a kitten to see how it responded. Apparently they did not view knowledge the same way I did. The morally unconcerned woman takes another bite of the lizard, gnawing the meat from its leg.
Suddenly there was a skittering noise. Knowing exactly what it was, someone across the fire threw a bucket of water on the fire which was extinguished with a hiss. At the same time, Gneita pulled her dark cloak about her as she headed for a nearby crevice in the cavern wall, a crevice in which she had placed discarded items in to block the larger spiders from getting at her.
Gneiati hid and listened. After a few moments, she heard a high pitched scream, the giant insects had caught someone. That would be T’kieara. Too bad, she was a good girl. Smart. Knew enough magic to get herself out of most situations. Oh well, there would be another person out there to share food with before too long.
She knew the bugs would remain for a while searching for more food, so she slumped down to a sitting position and took out her dagger, which she used to pick at something lodged beneath one of her long finger nails. As she did so, she thought about what she had been telling the others, although sometimes she could not exactly recall what was truth and what was not any more.
She was born into a wonderful loving family. Her father was . . . well . . . ok, she never knew him, but she was sure he must of been loving, after all, why else would he have raped her mother and then left her to die. And her mother, she was the perfect mother, a drunkard. What more could a young girl ask for. Well, sure, her mother had left her to die at the age of three, and it was only her cries that had alerted a neighbor.
Gneiati paused. I wonder if either my mother or father are still alive. Gneiati shrugged, it didn’t matter. She was here and needed to wait for the spiders to finish eating her former friend, at least she was pretty sure it was a former friend now. She then returned to recalling what had brought her here.
For the first few years, the deacon of a small Mitran temple had taken the small girl in. She recalls those days. It was fun. She could play on the grounds and wander through the woods. And, she learned how to hide and sneak around so that she could listen when adherents to the faith came to request boons from their deity. The good deacon was Karneran, a loving and caring man. Unfortunately, her interest in getting into things eventually became too much for the good deacon, so Gneiati was sent to a Mitran monastery with the hope that the young half-elf would be “cured” of her penchant for acquiring things and getting into stuff she was not supposed to.
The Di-kiarta-kyeth Monastery was a nice place to grow up. Good friends, although a little too devout and full of religious fervor. Gneiati readily went to classes and learned all there was about Mitra. Unfortunately, while she had friends who readily overlooked her rather unusual appearance, there were many who did not do so, and instead sought to ostracize her. It was at this time in her life that Gneiati learned why the deacon had tried to protect her all those years and had not allowed her to venture into town. She learned that it was not merely that her skin was darker than normal for a half-elf, but that her father must have been drow. Despite learning that her heritage was one of the most despised races, Gneiati focussed on the fact that the monks and others of the Mitran monastery had accepted her. She readily took to their teachings, learning about the religion and studying the use of armor and simple weapons.
She does not recall when the strange things began to happen, but at some point, it must have been when she was fifteen or sixteen years old, she began to get into trouble. First, it was taking items from others, a ring, then a book, then a holy symbol. Next, she was found in the high priest’s office, reading private papers. When she was accused of these things, she was quite confused as she simply did not understand what she had done wrong.
Her petty thievery would have likely gotten her thrown out of the monastery, however, it was at about this time that she found her touch could heal. Gneiati always liked to help people, after all, it made her feel good to know that she had helped another. After she was found in the chief priest’s chambers, reading an old tome regarding strange and alien religions and deities, Gneiati was confined to her chambers, while the heads of the monastery determined what to do with the young lady. Suddenly, Gneiati heard a crash and ran out of her small room, which was unlocked as she had figured out how to pick it with ease. In the hall was Habgrid, a friend of hers who she was sure would soon be a noble paladin and a force of good. However, rather than standing tall as he usually did, the young man lay on the floor bleeding from a deep wound to his head where a large brick had somehow fallen from the ceiling and struck him. Gneiati had some training on binding wounds, but when she raised his head to examine the wound, she felt a strange compulsion and bizarre words rose to her lips. A moment later, a cool blue energy flowed from her causing the bleeding to stop and the wound to partially heal.
Amazed by this event, the leaders of the monastery questioned her and eventually decided that she must be blessed of Mitra for such an amazing gift. This belief might have kept Gneiati in the monastery, but the next time the odd feeling overcame her and she spoke the magic words, the monastery’s librarian was nearby and understood the words she spoke. He immediately recognized the words as undercommon, the language of the drow and other underworld evil races. This discovery lead to further questioning.
Gneiati had difficulty with this questioning as she found it more and more difficult to tell the truth, or even to recall what the truth was, or why it was necessary to tell the truth. She did not want to harm anyone at the monastery, or to continue to offend those who had helped to raise her and taught her what she knew. So, shortly before her seventeenth birthday, she packed what little she had and left the temple, sneaking out of the minimally guarded entrance during the dark of night. Something that she had little problem doing, as her vision had begun to change allowing her to see with ease at night, even though it became more difficult for her to be outside during on sunny days.
After leaving the monastery, she first returned to see Karneran. However, when she arrived at the small temple she had called home those many years earlier, she found that the good deacon had retired, and a young Mitran adherent was there as his replacement. When the young priest saw her standing before his door in the dark of night with her nearly pitch black skin, the man freaked. He slammed the door in her face and called out to the guard, which Gneiati knew would arrive soon enough. So, not knowing what else to do, she fled.
For several months, the young woman wandered the land. Occasionally healing those in need, even receiving small tithes for her help at times. When she needed food, she would search out a bakery or butcher with an unwatched rear door and take what she needed. When she saw unattended clothing on a line, she would exchange her dirty clothes for a clean pair, figuring that it was a fair trade.
Unfortunately, Gneiati was not always the most careful about what she did. One day, while relaxing beneath a dark awning on the side of a cooper’s shop, eating a sausage she had acquired that morning, a woman walking nearby gave a shout and pointed at her. The woman was screaming something about the clothes that Gneiati wore, a fine black leather outfit, which Gneiati felt fit her perfectly. Gneiati called back to the woman not to worry, because she had left the woman another pair of clothing, so all was equal. Apparently the woman did not agree with Gneiati as she continued to scream. These screams quickly brought the guard who chased Gneiati for quite some time before the young woman finally managed to escape.
Finally realizing that she had escaped the guards, Gneiati sat down beneath a shady tree and opened a large tome that some academic in the town had foolishly left on his desk. Within the tome, she learned about a nearby cave which was rumored to lead deep into the earth, and from whence vile subterranean creatures were said to have been seen crawling forth in the past. Having long since learned that half her heritage was of drow descent, Gneiati decided to explore this cave and see where it lead.
This was three years ago. Gneiati spent nearly two months lost in the underground caves, almost starving before discovering that certain fungus, and underdark creatures, made good food. Finally, she discovered signs of habitation, and reached a drow outpost. At first she was chased away, several times, but with persistence she finally made it through and discovered just how amazing the towns and cities of the drow were. Although she was usually looked on with disgust, and called a half-human bastard child by many, her good nature often won the drow over enough to at least have her life spared. By pleasantly speaking with various venders, she discovered that she could harvest certain funguses and sell them in drow markets to earn at least enough to survive. At the same time, her strange powers continued to develop allowing her to heal herself and call upon her powers for other gifts, such as making others slightly disoriented, a great ability if one needs to make a quick exit.
While harvesting fungus earned her enough to survive, Gneiati knew that this was not what she wanted. So, one day after delivering some unusual purple fungus to a drow alchemist, the man asked if she could get him some black snake venom. Not thinking what the man might want with the poisonous venom, Gneiati agreed and soon was making good money harvesting venom from all nature of beasts and plants. More than a few times she accidentally poisoned herself extracting the poison, but she fortunately soon became more resistant to the hazardous substances and was able to shrug off all but the worst poison when she came into contact with one.
Through her harvesting, Gneiati soon made friends with the other drow outcasts who searched the underdark for things of value to be sold in the drow cities. These were her friends, if such a term can be used for the riffraff that comprised the group. It was with these friends that she had been sitting when the spiders came. It was sad losing T’kieara. But, there would always be more friends to take a spider’s bite for her, so the loss was of no great concern. There were always others who she could join to work, or play. And, considering the nature of the deities who many worshipped in this place, Gnieati’s ability to heal injuries would always be valued as most of those powers worshipped by the drow did not gift the ability to magically heal to their followers, unlike whatever had given Gneiati her powers.
So, with the commotion of the spider attack finally subsiding, Gneiati knew it was time to move on. She would have to find a new spot to make camp as the spiders would eventually find her nook, and that would not provide for a restful place to sleep, even for a short period.
"Contracts are made to be kept, and the penalties for breaking them can be quite severe."
"Yes, the tortured may lie. But when those same liars lay upon the rack, there is great incentive for them not to. I usually find it is enough to compel the truth."
Pain and torture are notoriously bad motivators. Eventually, the tortured simply say whatever they think you want to hear, to stop the pain. Well, unless you don't care, and you're simply enjoying torturing folk in an old, predictable fashion. In which case, carry on.
Pain and torture are notoriously bad motivators. Eventually, the tortured simply say whatever they think you want to hear, to stop the pain. Well, unless you don't care, and you're simply enjoying torturing folk in an old, predictable fashion. In which case, carry on.
"I see you are unfamiliar with Zon-Kuthon's worship. Nothing we do is either old, or predictable. And that is how it should be."
But what if the one being tortured does not know the truth? Or enjoys pain? Then, the torture fails to meet its objective. And regarding consequences for contracts, what if one does not care about the consequences? Or is unable to comply? What if the circumstances change?
Finally, how can you not be predictable? If you planned the torture to be novel, then it is in accordance with the plan. All one needs do is to understand the motivation of the torturer to predict his next novel plan. As such, the method would be clearly predictable, rendering the surprise your statement appears to intend to be moot.
Really, should we not simply take that which we need. If we have what we need, then there is no want. Without want, there is no necessity for torture or contracts.
"I can see how torture can be used as a tool to assure compliance or to gain information, but I think it's finest use is to bring someone to the brink of the precipice between pleasure and pain, then let them fall off that cliff into sublime release. Sweet for both parties. That folks can be talkative during the process is a side benefit, but truth is fleeting at best and not universal... We all have truths, are yours the same as mine?"
Since there is much clamoring for it, the selections will be done VERY EARLY on Wednesday morning, likely 2:00-3:00 AM EST. Those selected will have time to finish their characters.
Sound reasonable?
Reasonable but oh the agony of the wait... !!!