Hello! Welcome to my next demon lord campaign. Whether you're new or a previous player, please read all my rules and state that you agree with them before making a character.
So based on that, I request that all players strive for the following:
Posting Rate. This game will be played at a minimum of one post per day. Possibly more. I often post multiple times per day just to answer questions and post reactions to something a player is doing. If you can't/won't post for a day, then expect to be botted or skipped so the story can move forward (generally, I bot those who give me a heads up, and I skip those who are absent with no word). Also, please don't be that person who thinks "once per day" is posting at 11:50 pm and then again at 12:10 am, and then doesn't post again for nearly 48 hours. Not cool, man.
Give a Heads Up. If you can't post for a period of time - even if it is one day - please tell us! It takes less than 30 seconds to use your phone and drop a line in the discord server. “I’m super busy today, I won’t be able to post,” or “I’ll be gone this weekend, please bot as needed.” There's plenty of times I get off work and am too exhausted to catch up. It's ok, it happens. Just be courteous and let us know.
Push Posts. At least every few days (or more) you should give a "Push Post." This is a post that moves the story forward and allows for others to react. Avoid posts that just say, "I follow along" or "We could do this if others want." It's ok to just follow along - in such cases include a description about how your character feels and what emotions others can see on their face as they travel.
If you want to bring up a specific suggestion for the group that will require discussion, you can always do some quick chat in the discord and then post a push post in the gameplay thread to move the story forward. Or you can just make a decision and move forward. Problems arise when everyone in the group is waiting on full consensus or waiting on someone else to make a decision. This rule is designed to help prevent that. Speaking of which...
Don’t wait for others to make a decision. I'd prefer it if we weren't all waiting on someone else to make the decision to do something. I’ll play by the “2 people in agreement” rule, where as soon as I see two players agree to a course of action for the group, that’s the direction we’ll go in game. If people start stalling, I'll make Something Bad Happen in game, just so we can bring interest back into the game.
Emotions. Your posts should include the emotions of your characters. How are they feeling at that moment in time? Even if you only have a one liner, please include one emotion in the line. PBP games don’t translate the horror genre very well, so including emotional descriptions in your posts will go a long way to help with the environment of this game. Also describing facial expressions, memories, or similar descriptors can help make a post and a character feel a lot more alive.
Quitting the Game. It’s ok to quit. Any reason is acceptable. Just give us a notice so we’re not waiting on you. Maybe you’re too busy with life, maybe you don’t like the system, maybe you don't like me. It’s ok. Any reason is ok. I can handle criticism and I will accept literally any reason for why you want to leave the game. Just be mature, be an adult, and let the group know you’re bowing out. What isn’t ok is to just disappear. Don’t be that guy.
Please state that you agree to my rules before making a character.
Lastly, this is a horror fantasy game. Role-play appropriately. :)
Improved Martial Paths. All Expert and Master Paths which do not give an increase to Power will gain +1 Health at each level.
Weakened Casters. All Expert and Master Paths which grant at least +1 Power will reduce the health they gain by 1 point at each level, minimum 1.
Magic has a cost. All traditions have some sort of effect. This effect is stronger the more spells you learn. The core book has some basic concepts for this, but I'm aiming to expand upon it. Rank 0-1 give flavor effects. Rank 2+ give increases effects that can directly affect gameplay.
Here is my ongoing document tracking the tradition effects. This document is incomplete and it is not set in stone - if you have an idea for a Tradition effect for your character, work with me to design it and we can add it to the document. Please help me complete it! :)
Lastly, we'll be using the unholy trilogy: Battle Scars, Price of Evil, and Unhinge the Mind. If you don't have these books, that's ok! I'll post the relevant rules in the Campaign Info tab.
For Level 0, you can choose to use a victims book or the original source book, such as the core book. You must roll. If there is something specific that you're particularly uncomfortable with or that you particularly want, we can discuss it. If you're unsatisfied with the overall results, you can reroll the entire character. Only one reroll is allowed, and you must choose between the two you've rolled up. If you still don't like your character, don't worry - there will most likely be another opportunity to get a new character soon! >:)
All character generation rolls must be made here in the discussion thread and labelled.
Once you have all your rolls, then you must answer the questionnaire and write a short story explaining all your rolls. If you're having trouble with this, let me know and I can help out.
If you want a random ancestry, roll 1d46+1. Then use my reference document to see what the result is. Reference Document
Before you roll up a character, we're going to discuss what kind of starting campaign we want to play.
1) How do others make you feel? Do you like being the center of attention or bring left alone; is there a such thing as a stranger to you or do you even know what it's like to have a friend. Things like that.
2) Name one thing you value most. Then name one thing you could lose. These could be ideals, physical possessions, relationships, etc..
3) What do you fear? What do you hate?
4) What do you desire? What do you love?
5) You have (at least) one secret. What is it?
6) Have you done something Notable? What was it?
7) Are you in charge or do you let others take that roll? Do you rebuke authority or revel in it?
8) Do you follow through on your promises and obligations? Or do you delay or avoid? Do you feel guilty when you don't uphold them?
9) What are your opinions on Good and Evil? Do they exist? Or is it all shades of Grey? Where do you see yourself?
Just go here and copy it all. All the appropriate tags should be included. If I've messed something up, please let me know.
Put the following in specific fields as designated, adjusting as needed for your PC:
Race Field: Gender* Ancestry* Path Level | S10, A10, I10, W10 | HP 10\10 | D10 | Move: 10 | Insanity: | Corruption: | Fortune: No | Status: Normal
*If you’re a changeling, put Current Identity: Gender Ancestry. You may also include a name if you plan on changing names a lot.
Occupation: List of Professions. Ex: Academic (War), Martial (Refugee)
All other fields: Fill in as you like.
Thanks for considering my game and I hope you enjoy!
Story Complication (DLC 2):
Hunted -
Characteristics: Increase Perception by 1 and Speed by 2.
Nemesis: A character or creature created by the GM
stalks you. The GM controls this character and might spring him, her, or it on you at times you least expect. If you defeat your pursuer, you either lose this story complication or you gain a new stalker.
In exchange for Family Circumstances Table roll of 18 and +3 to wealth roll.
Background:
At least one recent ancestor was a criminal or did something shameful that’s known in your community
You were born to a rich family. You have a +6 bonus to your roll on the Childhood table. You might come from a noble family, a crime family, a religious leader, or a powerful user of magic
Your parents are alive.
4 siblings.
Sibling 1: Older Sister; Alive
Sibling 2: Older Sister; Alive
Sibling 3: Older Sister; Alive but disgraced.
Someone close to you died: spouse, child, or close friend.
Sibling 4: Older Brother; Alive
You start the game as an adult, from 26 to 35 years old. Roll once on the Childhood table and three times on the Life Experience table.
You were apprenticed to an artisan. Add an artisan of your choice to your list of professions. I'll choose scribe.
You saved the town from destruction and are now considered a hero. You never have to pay for food or drink while you’re in this town
You made the acquaintance of someone important. Choose Influence, Information, or Security. This character can provide the benefit to you once (see Connections in Shadow, page 207). Work with the GM to define this character.
You got an education or furthered your education. Choose one: Add a language to the list of languages you can speak or gain a random area of scholarship.
Average height and weight
You are neither attractive nor unattractive.
Getting By
Starting equipment: Basic clothing and a cloak. A scribe's kit. A dagger and a staff. A backpack, a week of rations, a waterskin filled with water, coil of rope, a tinderbox, and 2 torches. Plus CP.
Interesting Thing. A box containing 1d6 + 1 brushes.
Short Story:
Andras Cousland is the youngest son of a minor noble house. At a young age, his older sister Isabella brought the family into disrepute by accused of involvement in the death of her (husband? friend?) . In order to shield the young child from any drama, he was bundled away and sent to apprentice as a scribe in a backwater village. He was not particularly naturally talented at it due to his impulsive manner and limited patience, but his teacher Hartwig Pott was very patient and he became a decent scribe in his own right. The old, kindly scribe practically raised him, and upon completing his apprenticeship, gifted him a beautiful set of ebony brushes, inlaid with silver.
Always short-tempered and getting in to scrapes, Andras focused his seemingly boundless energies into practicing with weapons, and learned how to keep his eyes and ears open for trouble at. Recently he's been convinced that someone's out to get him, and is staying extra vigilant.
Questionnaire:
1) How do others make you feel? Do you like being the center of attention or bring left alone; is there a such thing as a stranger to you or do you even know what it's like to have a friend. Things like that.
As a noble, I'd be very comfortable dealing with others and following proper protocol, but I'd probably not really have many friends as I'd only really interact with people of a lesser social standing than me or servants. I'm used to being ignored as the youngest child, and youngest son. I think I would have a very good relationship with the scribe who taught me, despite the fact that I definitely wasn't his best student. I'd also probably be polite but cautious of strangers, knowing my past is catching up with me.
2) Name one thing you value most. Then name one thing you could lose. These could be ideals, physical possessions, relationships, etc..
I think I would definitely value my family most. I think I probably have some kind of relationship with my disgraced sister, perhaps I think what happened to her is unjust. I have precious little to cling to aside from that. In terms of loss, I think I could lose my title/lands/reputation, but I wouldn't care too much about that. I would definitely feel bad if I lost my old scribing master, he's the closest thing I have to family out here, and he would have pretty much raised me.
3) What do you fear? What do you hate?
I fear what is hunting me. I hate injustice.
4) What do you desire? What do you love?
I desire justice for my sister. I love my siblings and my parents. I also love the feeling of a good sword in my hands, and want to forge a story worthy of a good blade.
5) You have (at least) one secret. What is it?
When I was younger, I got in a scrap with a local child, and beat him half to death. It was hushed up due to my family's status, and the child's parents were compensated, but I always feel that anger inside me ready to bubble up at any moment.
6) Have you done something Notable? What was it?
I think he's too young to really have done anything notable.
7) Are you in charge or do you let others take that roll? Do you rebuke authority or revel in it?
I think as a noble I'd definitely be able to take charge of situations, but as a youngest son I'd definitely also know my place and defer to people with a higher status. I think I'm probably quite rigid in terms of authority and power structures.
8) Do you follow through on your promises and obligations? Or do you delay or avoid? Do you feel guilty when you don't uphold them?
A nobleman's word is his bond, and I'll live by that. I'll never make a promise I don't think I can keep. I probably made a promise to my sister, and that makes me feel guilty that I can't uphold it.
9) What are your opinions on Good and Evil? Do they exist? Or is it all shades of Grey? Where do you see yourself?
I think hierarchies and power structures are important, and there's definitely such a thing as true Evil. However, most people are just trying to get by, and no one is perfect. The nobles are meant to be intrinsically better than others, and yet I've been privy to many abuses of power. I definitely see myself as striving to be good, but I know that I'm capable of terrible things, and that worries me.
Personality rolls;
: You are not particularly outgoing or withdrawn. You can adapt to a variety of social situations.
: You value your friends and family strongly and get along with others.
Redemption
Isolation
You try to do what you say you will do, but you don’t always succeed.
You are capable of good and evil, though you mostly see to your self interests and those of people close to you.
Cult of the New God
Neither strong nor weak
Cambion
Build(10):
Your height and weight fall in the middle of the expected range for cambions.
Appearance(12):
You appear human, though you have slightly pointed ears.
Sire(12):
You were raised by a human family. They suspected something strange about you but raised you, despite their reservations.
Personality(9):
You have a malicious streak and take pleasure when others around you suffer.
Background(3):
You murdered someone in cold blood. You fled the scene, and ever since you’ve been looking over your shoulder for the retribution you’re sure will come.
Mark of Darkness(12):
You grow a sixth finger on each hand and a sixth toe on each foot.
I will be making a Human Variant from the "Only Human" book.
= At least one recent ancestor was a criminal or did something shameful that’s known in your community.
= You were born to a destitute family. You have a –3 penalty to your roll on the Childhood table.
= Both Alive
= 1d3+1 siblings
= Male, Older, Dead, Natural Causes
= Male, Older, Alive
= Female, Younger, Alive But Disgraced
= Female, Younger, Alive But Disgraced
= You were apprenticed to an artisan. Add an artisan of your choice to your list of professions.
= You worked! Choose one of your professions. You worked in your profession and saved a little coin. Gain a +1 bonus to your Starting Lifestyle roll.
= Comfortable = 5cp
= You are not particularly outgoing or withdrawn. You can adapt to a variety of social situations.
= You get on well with people close to you and are neutral about others.
= Redemption = Isolation
= You try to do what you say you will do, but you don’t always succeed.
= You are capable of good and evil, though you mostly see to your self interests and those of people close to you.
= You belong to the cult of the New God
= Your religious beliefs are neither strong nor weak.
Quite the interesting assortment. I am thinking of taking Blacksmith as the artisan skill he was trained to use as a child.
Pre-imperial history and geography
Rolling for my "Interesting Thing"
= A phylactery that holds a scrap of paper on which is written a single word.
Great. I can't even f~@*ing read.
Missed this one:
Ancestry: Faun
Starting Attribute Scores Strength 10, Agility 11, Intellect 11, Will 9
Perception equals your Intellect score + 1
Defense equals your Agility score
Health equals your Strength score
Healing Rate equals one-quarter your Health, round down
Size 1⁄2 or 1, Speed 12, Power 0
0 Damage, 0 Insanity, 0 Corruption
Languages and Professions You speak the Common Tongue and Elvish.
Quick Step: When you use an action, you can move 1 yard before or after the action, provided your Speed is greater than 0. Shadowsight: You see in areas obscured by shadows as if those areas were lit.
Skittish You make Will challenge rolls with 1 bane.
Build:
You are heavy, unusually curvaceous or plump.
Appearance:
You look like most other fauns, with small horns on
your brow and legs covered in fur down to your
cloven feet.
Background:
A troupe of performers took you in as a small child
and raised you. You grew up facing the stares of
the people who paid a few bits to see you.
Personality:
You do and say what you please. You try not to
hurt other people, but if it happens, there’s not
much you can do about it.
Professions:
Academic(Geography)
Wilderness(Refugee)
Lifestyle:
Getting By. You earn enough to meet all your
expenses.
Interesting Thing:
Six small cakes that can nourish the person who eats
one until the next day at dawn.
Personality Traits:
Fair
Aloof
Rolls:
New Character Power Gooooooooo....
= At least one recent ancestor is known for some great deed, discovery, or achievement.
= Your family was getting by. To determine your family’s profession, roll on the Common, Military, Religious, or Wilderness table.
= Parents Alive
=
= Younger Living Sister
= Younger Living Brother
= Alive But Disgraced Older Brother
= Wilderness (I'd like to have my family to be woodcutters).
= You were apprenticed to an artisan. Add an artisan of your choice to your list of professions. (Artisan: Carpenter)
= Choose one of your professions. You worked in your profession and saved a little coin. Gain a +1 bonus to your Starting Lifestyle roll.
= Average Height & Weight
= Neither Attractive Nor Unattractive
= Getting By
cp
= Not Particularly Introvert or Extrovert
= You only value your friends and family. Dislike others.
= Status = Death
= Try to do what I can but I don't always succeed.
= A paragon of virtue.
= New God
= Skeptical
The most a*#@~*~ good guy ever. I'll get a sheet made later today.
Hello everyone. I'm rolling up a Dwarf character and will have a post soon for the character creation!
Yay for a dwarf! Welcome to the group, we're a bunch of a teenagers :D
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Level 1: Gallant (Bred for Battle).
Attributes Increase your Agility and Intellect each by 1. -> 13 Agi, 10 Int
Characteristics Health +4 -> 14
Equipment You gain a swift weapon of your choice. (I gained a Saber)
Finesse Weapon Training When you attack with a weapon that has the finesse property, you make the roll with 1 boon.
Nimble Recovery You can use an action to heal damage equal to your healing rate and then move up to half your Speed without triggering free attacks. Once you use this talent, you must wait until you complete a rest before you can use it again.
**********
Finances:
Income: 1 Silver Shilling + 8 Copper pieces. Sold a dagger for 2cp.
Expenses: Lifestyle (Getting By) 1ss, Clothing 5cp. Large shield 1ss.
Net loss of 5cp.
New Equipment:
Saber (Gallant)
Large Shield (Bought)
Criminal Record (Interesting thing, to be announced...)
**********
Story:
Having heard only of Andras' scrapes via the Mayor of Last Hope, who did not paint him in the most favorable light, his parents thought it best to send him off to learn swordplay, properly this time. They lined up a teacher, Finbar Harper, and bundled him off to Finbar's estate - hoping that Andras would get far away from the peasants who were proving such a bad influence on the boy.
The first time Andras saw Finbar, he thought there must be some mistake. The man was lithe, of average height, with short black hair and a neatly trimmed beard. Despite being a feared pit fighter with a long and storied career, the only trace of battle was a thin scar across his cheek. The man himself was good natured, with a strong regional accent.
However, after their initial sparring session to test out Andras' ability, there could be no doubt remaining that this was the right man. He was all style, all grace, and dodged all of Andras' clumsy swings before throwing him to the ground and putting the training sword to his throat. Where many pit fighters were hulking brutes of rippling muscle, this man was an artist.
Finbar was a harsh, but fair, teacher, and most days Andras would rise with the sun, and train with a sword until he could barely stand. The one day a week he was allowed off, he was forced to spend reading books by masters of swordplay. The subject luckily interested Andras, and he managed to keep his focus on the reading, despite his natural restlessness. Andras was pushed to breaking point, not through cruelty, but because Finbar saw something in the boy that just needed to be brought out.
After a year, Finbar presented Andras with a sword, marking the first step of his training as complete. The blade was nothing special, but it signified Finbar's willingness to vouch for the boy. He would expect Andras to return for more training, but suggested he should return to his friends in Last Hope as a well deserved holiday. Waving goodbye to the man that had earned his unwavering respect, Andras got into the coach that would take him back up North.
Level 1 Rogue (with Magic)
Attributes Increase two by 1 Characteristics
Agility + 1 = 12
Wisdom + 1 = 10
Health +2 (+3 - 1 [Power Class]) = 12
Languages and Professions
Rogue Talents
********************
Financials
Mayor: 1 ss
Sold: 1 ss 2 cp
* Club: 2 cp
* Lantern: 5 cp
* Skull Implement: 5 cp
* Necromancy Ritual Aid:
* Necromancy Book:
* Herbs:
Bought: - 2 ss 5 cp
* Soft Leather Clothing: -2 ss
* Small Shield: -5 cp
Downtime: 2d6 cp => () = 7 cp
Lifestyle (Getting By): -8 cp
Total: 2 cp
* Dagger
* Torch (3)
* Tinderbox
* Waterskin
* Ration (7)
* Backpack
* Money pouch (2 cp)
Gained:
* Letter of Commendation
* Soft Leather Clothing
* Small Shield
* Knuckledusters
********************
Down Time Activity
All Hokey wants at the end of this adventure is to leave her horrific experiences at Last Hope behind. She gathers everything she has that wasn't needed and sells them all for a journey to a nearby monastery to try and recover her mind. She arrives and donates 8 copper pieces to the monastery in order to be accepted.
During her stay at the monastery, Hokey found comfort in the simple lifestyle and structure of the monastery. She strived to do her best with whatever task she was assigned. She especially thrived in her meditative and martial practices, as well as her own private study of magic. In an effort to advance her studies, she learned to read and write Common.
One day, Hokey received a letter from Adelhan, the Mayor of Last Hope, requesting she attend a feast to be held in remembrance of the Battle at the Standing Stones. Hoping to get some closure on this emotionally traumatic chapter in her life, Hokey prepares to leave and informs her monastery leader of her intent to leave briefly and return. She was bequeathed a pair of dull metal knuckledusters, which were enchanted to never take an opponent's life.
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Attributes: Agility +1, Intelligence +1, Health +4 total (+3 Rogue, +1 House Rule)
Abilities:
, Gatherer
Nimble Recovery: As an Action, recover your HR and move up to half your speed without triggering attacks.
Trickery: Once per round, make an attack with 1 boon. The target takes an additional 1d6 damage if the attack hits.
*******
Gained Coinage:
Copper Pennies
Mayor's Reward: 1 Silver Shilling
Downgraded Lifestyle (Comfortable to Getting By): 1 Silver Shilling
Total: 8 Copper Pennies, 2 Silver Shillings
Spent Coinage:
Soft Leather: 2 Silver Shillings
Total: -2 Silver Shillings
Interesting Thing
Glass orb with a swirling mist inside.
Gained Items:
Soft Leather Armor
Letter of Commendation
8 Copper Pennies
*********
Downtime:
Bertram Romden left Last Hope almost as confused as he had entered it. The strange events that transpired were etched into his mind. He carried them with him as he struck out into the backwoods to earn a living again. The funds afforded to him from home had long run out, and he knew he would need coin if he wanted to stay fed. The Romden clan would no longer allow him back to the estate and this deed alone would not earn him the good graces of his family.
It wasn't long after Last Hope that Bertram fell in with old crowds again in order to survive. It wasn't the life he had grown accustom to, but living in the woods afforded him some new skills. Bertram learned the necessity of finding and taking what he could from all the hidden away places. He made a decent amount of money shaking people down on backroads and saved what he could from the treasures he claimed. Practice honed his aim with a sling to a fine point and now he aimed to prove it with a proper weapon once he had the coin.
However, something about the events of Last Hope continued to play in his mind even months later. At times, he would feel pangs of guilt that had not always been there in more rugged times. Something still festered under the surface of his mind. Maybe this self reflection was just a distraction from a deeper calling.
One day, picking through the carriage of a gypsy woman Bertram came across an oddity. A small glass globe swirling with mist. Bertram spied into it curiously as he felt the cool surface beneath his rough fingers. The mists parted only for a moment, and Bertram saw the face of a woman screaming in rage and pain. He recognized her as the changeling the Human had attempted to cut down in the forests among the Fomor.
The mists overtook the furious visage again. The brief moment left Bertram shaken and sullen. That night he gathered his things and left without a word to his compatriots. He would seek out Last Hope once more. Maybe he could lay the memories to rest and discover what troubled him so deeply about the changeling woman.
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= A badge from a mercenary company
Level 1: Warrior
Attributes: Increase 2 by 1. (Strength & Agility)
Health +5 -> 17
Weapon Training When you attack with a weapon, you make the roll with 1 boon.
Catch Your Breath: You can use an action or a triggered action on your turn to heal damage equal to your healing rate. Once you use this talent, you cannot use it again until after you complete a rest
**********
Finances
Income: 12 silver shillings. Sold horse for 2ss. 1 as Reward.
Expenses: Lifestyle (Getting By) 1ss, Clothing 5cp. Soft leather armor 2ss, Large Shield 1ss, Lantern 1ss, 2 vials of oil 2cp, tent 5cp, adventurer's pack 1ss, Quiver 5cb, Bow 5ss, 20 arrows 2ss
Total Expenses: 14ss, 2cp, 5cb
Remaining Funds: 1ss, 2cp, 5cb
EDIT: I have a tiny bit more copper pieces left since some of the adventurer's stuff was copies of what I already had.
New Equipment:
Soft Leather Armor
Large Shield
Lantern
2 vials of oil
Quiver
Adventurer's Pack
Bow
20 arrows
Interesting Thing: A new brother! >.>
**********
Story:
Since the Battle of the Standing Stones, Erik's life had been irrevocably changed. Around him and his were dangers, lurking just out of sight and just out of mind. It was a week after that fateful night that Erik approached Aaron and asked to join the local town militia, a chance to truly train and prepare himself to protect the small town that he had grown up in. As others moved on from that dark night, a young woodcutter by the name of Henry marrying his widowed mother and moving his own child into the house, Erik could not move on. His father's empty eyes shined in his mind, the bleating screams of the goatmen, that face of fury of the changeling known as Muck. These nightmares persisted, relentlessly nearly every night. A voice whispered to him in his mind, a voice that promised vengeance and power. All he needed to do was go back to the stones and call out the names it knew.
These dark urges were resisted by Erik and his frustration was poured into his training. The young man showed his skill with an axe in hand and soon enough was welcomed as a brother in battle. The young man idly wondered if this is what his father felt like with whatever company he traveled with when he was younger, the badge and the axe being the heirlooms he had kept from his father. Even as he began to earn the respect of his fellow townspeople, Last Hope didn't feel like home anymore. Things were changing and Erik just felt stuck in the past, stuck in that dark night.
He had begun to make plans to leave Last Hope and head out to the nearby city and try his luck there when a courier had asked for him to attend a ceremony tomorrow night to commemorate the Battle at the Standing Stones. Out of a sense of obligation more than desire, the growing young man accepted the invitation and made sure to keep his armor and weapons polished as best he could for the event. Tomorrow he would leave to something better.
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Level 1 Spell Guardian
Attributes Increase two by 1 Characteristics
Agility + 1 = 12
Wisdom + 1 = 10
Health +3 = 13
You are a scholar. You can read and write in one language you know how to speak. You can recall information related to your area of scholarship.
Spell Guardian Talents
********************
Financials
Mayor: 1 ss
Sold: 1 ss 2 cp
* Club: 2 cp
* Lantern: 5 cp
* Skull Implement: 5 cp
Bought: - 2 ss 5 cp
* Soft Leather Clothing: -2 ss
* Small Shield: -5 cp
Downtime: 2d6 cp => () = 7 cp
Lifestyle (Getting By): -8 cp
Total: 2 cp
* Dagger
* Torch (3)
* Tinderbox
* Waterskin
* Ration (7)
* Herbs
* Backpack
* Money pouch (2 cp)
Gained:
* Soft Leather Clothing
* Small Shield
* Knuckledusters
********************
Down Time Activity
All Hokey wants at the end of this adventure is to leave her horrific experiences at Last Hope behind. She gathers everything she has that wasn't needed and sells them all for a journey to a nearby monastery to try and recover her mind. She arrives and donates 8 copper pieces to the monastery in order to be accepted.
During her stay at the monastery, Hokey found comfort in the simple lifestyle and structure of the monastery. She strived to do her best with whatever task she was assigned. She especially thrived in her meditative and martial practices, as well as her own private study of magic. In an effort to advance her studies, she learned to read and write Common.
One day, months after she'd joined, one of the leaders of the monastery, Hershel, sat down with her to discuss what her stay at their monastery. He urged her to take advantage of her talents and to get some real training with the Letter of Commendation given to her by Adelhan, the Mayor of Last Hope. Hokey thinks about it for a couple of days before agreeing with Hershel. She was bequeathed a pair of dull metal knuckledusters, which were enchanted to never take an opponent's life, as a sign of the monastery's permanently open doors.
Unsure of what to do next, Hokey went back to Last Hope to see what options were available to her. While in town, she met with Hydrand, who caught her up to what he'd been up to, especially what he was learning from a Tower Spell Guardian, who had been dispatched by the Tower Arcane to pick up the Necromantic supplies. He began to teach Hokey the magical theories behind the mechanics of the Spell Guardian skills, who was able to come up with a new way of utilizing the magics into a form that combined what she learned at the monastery with the magics she was studying.
One day, Hokey received a letter from Adelhan requesting she attend a feast to be held in remembrance of the Battle at the Standing Stones. Hoping to get some closure on this emotionally traumatic chapter in her life, Hokey prepares to leave and informs her monastery leader of her intent to leave briefly and return.
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Spell Guardian 1
Increase Two Attributes by 1
Strength 11 -> 12
Will 9 -> 10
Health 12 + 3 = 15
Hydrand has become a scholar of magic and can now read!
Hydrand has taken to studying the tradition of Protection, and will learn two additional spells from it.
Spell Guardian Talent
You create a magical barrier, protecting yourself or others from an attack. When a creature you can see attacks, you can use a triggered action and expend the casting of a spell to bolster the defenses of one target within short range. Add a penalty to the enemy attack roll or a bonus to the target's challenge roll equal to the rank of the spell expended plus your Powers score.
Money
3 Copper Pennies from downtime
1 Silver Shilling from the mayor
1 Silver Shilling from assisting Awful
Also, embarrassingly, 3 bits.
So 2ss 3cp
-1ss Large Shield
-1ss Getting By
3cp remains
...and 3 bits.
Lifestyle
Hydrand will take the getting by lifestyle. He will reside out-of-doors near his plinth, requiring no food or drink or bed.
Equipment
A sling with 20 stones, rags, and a pouch containing 3 bits. A mace constructed from a purple metal with a name etched on the haft.
New Stuff
Large Shield
Interesting Thing
The admiration of all my friends... Except one.
Hydrand bid his friends adieu for the evening after the battle of the standing stones. He made his way to the plinth for rest and meditation. Protecting people, keeping them from harm... You don't need someone to investigate a murder if you keep it from happening. Grief, bereavement, vendettas... All avoided.
Hydrand attended the ceremony the following day, and then returned to the plinth to ruminate once more, except this time, days passed. From his past, his journey into exile, his wielding of magic... Everything that bore considering was considered. Magic was essential, he did what he did at the standing stones with magic, and he would grasp those forces once again.
Try as he might, however, magic was always out of his reach.
Eventually, he sought out the temple in town, and steeped himself in prayer on the subject, hoping that some piety would offer a revelation. Days passed, then a week, and not a single thing was revealed.
Returning to the plinth, downtrodden, a beaten clockwork once again sat to ruminate on his life's purpose.
Without magic, I cannot be the person I was in battle that night... Although, I suppose the night was not won on magics alone.
Considering his plinth once more, he rose, and he began to train. He discovered many of the limits his clockwork body had, and being aware of those limits, was able to rise to them more and more frequently as he trained with every moment he had.
Then it happened.
Training through the night, he began to feel a thrum not unlike the one in the air at the temple. At first it put him on alert; being at the edge of town, he was hoping that energy was not encroaching upon the kind people of Last Hope. The energy faded almost immediately upon ceasing his exercise. Over the following month, he would experiment with drawing this energy up, and found it came easier and easier each time. After so much practice, he could almost draw it up without training at all.
He'd done it. Hydrand had found magic.
Except...
It was still formless. Try as he might, he couldn't evoke a single iota of the energy he had gathered.
As few as they were, visitors came and went, and Hydrand would speak to them of his experience in the hopes that he would find some guidance. As luck would have it, the guidance came. He heard of a place called the Tower Arcane. He had a letter sent to the tower, illuminating the events of the Battle at Standing Stones, all the way up to Hydrand's plight of feckless magic. In the following weeks, an agreement was made. The Tower Arcane would send someone to offer Hydrand some formal training in exchange for the tower's agent collecting the grimoire, among other things, for the Tower's own purposes.
With the blessing of his allies, the deal was struck, and a member of the Tower Arcane arrived not long after. Formal training began in earnest during the day, and the Tower Agent studied the grimoire during the night while Hydrand rested up for more training. They both learned well; Hydrand grew in equal parts magical and martial prowess, and the Tower Agent became confident that collecting the book was the right thing to do.
These things did not happen in a vacuum, though... The townspeople learned through the grapevine of the arrangement, and Hydrand did not make his motivations of heroism a secret. Over the course of his training, he gained the admiration of his friends. He begun to associate more with the folk in town, and struck up a friendship with Awful, assisting him in his endeavors where he had time. It was not difficult to bond over commiseration given what they had been through together.
Once the Tower Agent was sure that Hydrand had learned enough not to hurt himself, he bid the town adieu and returned to the Tower Arcane. Hydrand remained in Last Hope, and continued honing himself, and at times could be seen summoning a small shield of energy atop the plinth and admiring it before it winked out once more.
One such who saw this was Hokey, who returned to Last Hope after several months. Seeing what Hydrand had learned, and being aligned with his motivations, Hokey, too, began training in earnest. Hydrand did his best to pass one what he had learned, but while he was an able teacher, it wasn't the same as learning from a member of the Tower Arcane itself.
Things settled into a comfortable rhythm for Hydrand, and in the blink of an eye, a year had past in Last Hope. Hydrand could always be found training at the plinth, and Hokey could sometimes be found with him. And Awful, too, if he fancied.
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Level 1 Rogue
Attributes:
+1 Will (10), +1 Agility (11)
Characteristics:
+3 HP (13)
Languages and Professions:
Criminal (Saboteur)
triggering free attacks. Once you use this talent, you cannot use it again until after you complete a rest.
Money Earned:
1ss (Mayor), 11cp (Earned)
Lifestyle:
Getting By (-1ss)
Money Spent During Downtime:
1ss (Story)
5cp (Clothing)
1gc (Rapier)
5ss (Cutless)
2ss (Soft Leather)
Total Money: 2ss, 6cp
My apologies all, it has been a rough day. I will post as soon as I can in the morning. <3
Post will be up late tonight, have a game in a bit to run and had baby duty all day.
I will have a post up later today folks, have to help a friend out most of today.
Pay me no mind.
Level 2 Spell Guardian
Health: 13 + 3 = 16
Learning: STABILIZE MAGIC (Catastropic Magic, 7)
ARCANA UTILITY 1
Duration: 1 minute
For the duration, when you cast a spell, you make the casting challenge roll with 2 boons.
Triggered: On your turn, you can use a triggered action to cast this spell. The spell ends at the end of your turn.
--------------------
Updating: From ARCANE ARMOR to SORCEROUS LENS (Occult Philosophy, 22)
ARCANA UTILITY 1
Target: A point you can reach
Duration: 1 hour
A 1-yard-diameter lens of magical force appears, centered on the target, and remains for the duration. The lens has two sides. Any creature peering through either side of the lens can see through it with ten times the magnification.
Sacrifice: You can use an action, or a triggered action on your turn, and expend a casting of this spell to convert the force created by this spell into a blast. One creature you can reach must make a Strength challenge roll with 1 bane. On a failure, you move the creature 1d6 yards away from you, and the creature then falls prone.
********************
"Thank you, too. Your push, earlier, saved me from a blaze that suddenly flared up in front of me." She also awkwardly adds, "Sorry for being harsh earlier. I was tired and stressed. You're alright."
--------------------
After getting enough rest to move on, Hokey asks for a favor from the group while breaking camp.
"Once we get to Vanderhalen Hollow, grab the Savage Ornament, and take care of Smiley, would any of you be willing to help me out with something?" she suddenly asks.
"It'll involve coming back to the Standing Stones and helping me out with a ritual. I don't need an answer right now, so think about it, and let me know. No hard feelings, if you can't or won't."
--------------------
Over the next few weeks, Hokey and the rest of the group head to Vanderhalen Hollow. Some reprieve from this godsforsaken heat could finally be felt as the scenery slowly began to shift from the woods to the mountains. The only consistent part of the gradually changing environment seemed to be smoke from the forest fire.
At least there's less of those disgusting spiders. This was a favor to the world.
--------------------
Occasionally, one or more people would break off from the group and catch-up later. At first, Hokey was focusing on gathering herbs outlined in the book as "good for burns". Once everyone had fully recovered, she would stop whenever she came across a field of clovers or a particularly dense section of the woods. She would leave to gather four-leaf clovers and bundle ash, oak, and thorn sticks. She would also ask about any local folklore or myths, especially those involving the enigmatic Fey.
--------------------
On one of these outings, Erik happened to tag along for a welcome change of pace. He had finally located a four-leaf clover and looked up excitedly to let Hokey know, only to come face-to-face with a curious pixie. Erik immediately jerked back in surprise, dropping the clover in the process. The pixie disappeared and Erik called Hokey over.
Hokey came over with some clovers of her own and saw the pixie. She immediately froze and kept watching as the pixie was laughing at Erik, still invisible to him. Her deeply rooted hatred of the Fey and their kind welled-up, but she managed to maintain control of her emotions. By the time she had calmed down enough to focus on the situation, the pixie was claiming that Erik was his father! From then on, the pixie followed the group, and everyone started the habit of keeping a four-leafed clover with them, lest they suffer the pixie's pranks.
--------------------
Otherwise, Hokey spent a lot of time attempting to recover her mind from the horrific events at Last Hope. She meditated and choose to self-reflect on everything she had been a part of. She followed the forms she learned at the temple to stay active and free her mind from the negative experiences. She had also taken to prayer after these harrowing events, where she felt helpless to protect even just herself. She prayed primarily to the Horned One, who was so similar to herself, and his consort, the Summer Queen, the ruler of the people she hated. She also started praying to the Seer, for guidance and the World Mother for protection.
Level 2 Rogue
Agility + 1 = 12
Intellect + 1 =12
HP + 3 = 16
Healing Rate = 4
Profession: Criminal(Pickpocket)
Gaining This Level...
Exploit Opportunity:
Roguery Talent: Magic
HP + 3 = 18
Healing Rate = 4
Learn One Spell = Binding Shackles
Weapon Training = One Boon to Basic Martial Weapon Attacks
Battle Recovery
You can use an action to heal damage equal to your healing rate and regain one expended casting of a spell that you have learned. Once you7 use this talent, you must wait until you complete a rest before you can use it again.
Story soon
Hit Points: +5
Combat Prowess: Your attacks with weapons deal 1d6 extra damage.
Forceful Strike: When the total of your attack roll is 20 or higher and exceeds the target number by at least 5, the attack deals 1d6 extra damage.
That is it for any of the mechanical changes to Erik. As for what happened along the way to the Hollow...
Erik made only a small detour after he recovered himself at that dreadful clearing, his mind finally gathering itself. He made his way back home, to the empty beds that would become forgotten and decrepit as time went on. He gathered his things; his bow and arrow, backpack, and other supplies. He was beyond poor and the small handful of pennies in his pocket would not keep him fed.
His home that his late father had built sat in that smoky wind. He couldn't let it become the hideout for desperate bandits, another place for those wicked spiders to infest, or a lair for something worse. It didn't take much kindling for the wood to catch aflame, his home burning before him. Erik had hoped for a moment of peace, some kind of closure. All he felt was heartache and a terrible, infinite loneliness that spread through his being. What was the point of it all?
The voice in his head pointed its fingers wildly; it was the noble blood that Andras carried that brought the doom of this town upon them. It was Hokey's dangerous attempts at magic that led the enemy to them. It was the weakness and foolishness of the town to be unable to protect themselves. It was his fault; he could've slain Adelmar and Muck a year ago and have been done with this sordid affair.
A melancholy followed the young warrior as he traveled with them all, his words few and far apart. As they made their way closer to their destination, a strange thing happened to him as he assisted Hokey with gathering clovers for her. It was a break from the monotony of making camp and scrounging for food. As he picked a four-leaf clover, an ingredient she needed, when this wasp-winged tiny man appeared before him. The sudden closeness made him fall back, shouting out for Hokey to come back.
Laughter ringed around him, the scent of cut grass lingering too. In time though, the pixie explained that Erik was his father and had brought him into existence. How this was possible, the simple warrior had no idea, but the young man came to learn that the capricious little fey seemed to play more minor and less annoying tricks when one wore the four-leaf clover on their chest. Slowly but surely, every member of their ragtag group wore such a little emblem of protection.
So I am hoping to write up a little blurb with each member of the party, some little interaction Erik has had with them throughout the trip. Just a little more development. If I have time, I'll do so with our NPCs too.
EDIT: I also feel that Erik would've shared the paltry sum he received from Gerald. You all get 5cp, Erik keeps the odd coins as hazard pay for climbing up a webbed tree.
Hydrand felt immense loss, now he'd had time to dwell on it. He wasn't of particular means that he'd lost many worldly possessions, though he did jealously guard what he owned. It was the loss of the townsfolk whose favor he had gained that ate at him. All that training in spellguarding and yet he could hardly guard the folks standing right next to him.
And my damn plinth. I worked so hard on that thing... Maybe one day I'll return and place something atop it. Maybe some day soon, even, who knows.
...what a strange thing to consider. The powerlessness I feel towards keeping Last Hope safe has only driven me to desire for more protective capabilities. If motivation is the only thing I can gather from the deaths of all those people, then so be it. Time to resume my training.
I should gather Hokey, if we're traveling together for so long, surely we will have time to hone ourselves for what's to come.
There wasn't much training they could do on the road, especially with how often they had to mind their footing on the roads less traveled, but any time travel became difficult, one only needed to think of that Orc to know it was best to avoid people at large.
That didn't stop the party from running into an older gentleman in a dark purple robe who hailed them as they were on their way.
Easily recognized by Hydrand, who'd received genuine Tower Arcane tutelage, the man was obviously a wizard straight from the tower. Between Hydrand's training and Andras' understanding of the noble caste, they were able to work out that he was just a lesser wizard, but appeared to be the genuine article.
They entertained him briefly as he asked where they were coming from and why; it was easy to be honest with a bona fide wizard. He introduced himself as Aubergine Serbredolf, and it wasn't more than a few minutes before the wizard said his goodbyes and parted ways with the group. He wished to continue north, in spite of the group's warnings, but he said his business wasn't in Last Hope and took his leave.
After ten grueling days of hiking and drilling, however, the wizard caught up with them once again. He said that his business to the north had been concluded, but that the happenings in Last Hope had been enough to draw his attention. Upon learning of their destination, Aubergine said that he, too, had business in Vanderhalen Hollow, and that he would be happy to accompany the group on the long journey. He was happy to see that Hydrand and Hokey had both been tower trained, and he stepped in from time to time to help; it was thus that Hydrand and Hokey both increased in martial skill and magical capability.
Over the course of the remaining journey, Hydrand and Aubergine became quite familiar. Aubergine revealed that he preferred to be called, "Jimmy" after the "gine" in his name, and who wouldn't with a name like his? Jimmy was very inquisitive about the happenings in Last Hope, and Hydrand was happy to illuminate him, and just as well, Hydrand had questions about the Tower Arcane, of the magics of protection, and Jimmy likewise was happy to answer.
After weeks of traveling, training, and generally keeping off the beaten path, Hydrand found himself with his friends camped out near Vanderhalen Hollow. Jimmy told Hydrand that he was off to be about his business, but he gave Hydrand directions on where to find him should he need anything. Hydrand told Jimmy he was glad for the companionship, and that he would come calling should the need arise.
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Characteristics: +3 to Health.
I also found that I forgot to take my level 1 rogue stat ups. I am not a bright lad. I'm upping my Agility (11 to 12) and my Strength (9 to 10). Please forgive me bookrat!
Rogue Talent - Magic (Earth): Power +1, Earth Tradition, 2 Spells
I have chosen the Magic talent and unlocked the Earth Tradition. I'm choosing to take two spells from a tradition I know as my 2 options. That should equal one level 0 spell from unlocking the tradition and two level 1 spells from my options.
Exploit Opportunity: Now if I roll above 20 and am at least 5 above the target score I can take another turn at any time before the end of the round. I can only do this once per round. Sweet!
The next few days after burning down the forest are filled with aches and pains. Bertram barely managed to survive the fire, thanks to Awful. The human had fared mostly well through the flames comparatively. Singed, but alive, Bertram trudges through the heat along with his fellows. They had a lead on the orc now, but at the back of everyone's mind they had to know he wasn't going to stop. Andras' family sure knew how to step in it.
Over the next few weeks, Bertram continues to sharpen his aim with his sling. Last Hope had proven how ineffective he was in battle. These individuals were strange, but they certainly proved reliable in the events with "Smiley", as Hokey had dubbed them. They weren't the worst he had run with either. Bertram was determined to be valuable when they next encountered the orc.
The group is settling down after a day of travel, several days since the forest fire. Bertram sits at the edge of the camp staring into the small cloudy glass sphere. This is what had drawn him back to Last Hope with visions of Muck. He found that funny now as he turned it between his fingertips, peering into the misty center. He had come back because of the guilt he had felt about leaving the poor Changeling as they had, and how she had been so distraught over her love's plight. The tears and rage painted on her face was burned into Bertram's mind. And now she's dead along with the entire town.
So much for love, Muck. Adelmar died with the rest of Last Hope. I should have known better.
Bertram suddenly freezes, staring with disbelief into the small ball. The mists inside are gently fading and clearing. A perfectly transparent glass sphere now rests between his fingers, and through it he can see a red thread passing through the grass. The thread vanishes when he looks around the crystal ball, but through it the bright cord is undeniably distinct. He blinks incredulously a few times, but the thread persists. Bertram stoops and slowly reaches out a hand to touch it and instead feels only a gentle and distinct warmth. Standing again, Bertram takes one look back at the rest of the group bedding down for the evening, then quietly slips away.
Bertram walks for some time following the thread through the grass as the darkness of the evening deepens. It emits a soft glow seen through the sphere, leading him gently to the edges of the charred forest. Bertram can barely make out the burnt cinders standing tall and leafless in the darkness. The thread slopes upward and then comes to an end, tied to the latch of a pristine wooden gate.
The appearance of the cottage gives Bertram a start. He had been so focused on the thread that he hadn't noticed the dark structure until he was upon it. He looks furtively around into the quiet darkness of the burnt forest as if taking in his surroundings for the first time.
Silent. That's cause we burned it down. Everything's dead here, even the insects...
The cottage looms before him. Bertram slowly pushes open the gate and steps up to the door. The building is untouched by the flames that roared here, despite wooden walls and a thatched roof. There isn't even soot when he places his hand on the door and pushes it open. A deep black void opens before him.
"Welcome, please come in." a voice croaks out from the yawning portal.
"F$~&ING HELLS! WHO'S THERE?!" Bertram scrabbles back paces in fright. The rasping croak chuckles dryly in response.
"Now now, no need to be rude, Stix." Bertram freezes in place at hearing his true name. A candle lights within the cabin and illuminates a hunched old woman. The darkness casts shadows deep shadows over a wrinkled face that is twisted into a toothy grin of rotten teeth. Black streaks of hair hang matted from her head and cruel eyes glint in the candlelight.
"Come inside, Changeling. You will not be harmed this night. I see you've found something of mine. What a pleasure it would be to discuss it." The kind words cause Stix to tremble slightly in fear. He can feel something hanging in the air. Is it malice? Murder?
"Hunger." The voice in his head whispers. "She thinks we are prey. Suckers for sport."
But the old woman only smiles at him from inside the cottage. Bertram recovers himself, standing resolutely in the doorway.
"You're a witch. A hag."
"I am." She smiles a rotted smile. "One who can help you with what you want, Stix. Or would you prefer Bertram?"
Stix's stance falters. The crone chuckles again at his unintentional affirmation. The sound is as unpleasant the second time.
"There will only be true forms in here, Changeling. Reveal yourself and hear what I have to offer."
Stix hesitates for a moment, then steps forward into the hut. His form melts into the wood and dirt matter that comprises his true body. The honor, the pride, the Dwarven heritage fall away. He finds himself inside a single room and seats himself at the sole table in the middle. No fire burns, the candlelight dimly suggests the presence of dark fetishes and adornments that line the inside walls. Bones, strange brews, books, bits of fur and skin, tiny cages, burned chitin, and other materials fill the small space. Bertram sits on a rickety stool at the table, warily watching the crone.
"You said you could help. What did you mean? How would you know what I want?" Stix's whistling wooden voice sounds out of place in this space even to himself. The crone motions for him to present the crystal ball. Stix stiffens as she plucks the crystal ball from his grasp with clawed, gnarled fingers.
"Some prizes may only be attained in one way, my sweet child. We both know how you came to own this sphere, and that the real Bertram Romden is not coming back." She smiles cruelly when Stix looks away from her gaze. "My little changeling, I would like to make your dream come true. I want to change you from a puppet into a real Dwarf."
The changeling stares at the croaking woman in shock.
"You... you mean like Bertram? You can make that real?" He leans in despite himself. "You can make me into a Dwarf?"
"Into Bertram." The crone corrects. "Like your crime never happened. You take on his life, become the heir you wish to be. Have a father that loves you..."
Stix winces again, swearing he can see satisfaction in the smiling eyes. He leans away again and his eyes narrow in suspicion.
"That can't be free, witch. How much would something so great cost? Poisoning a town? Children? Witches deal in misery. You'll use me to hurt others and then I'm back where I started."
"Such mistrust. I will make your lie real, Stix. I will make you honest for the first time in your life. You will have a father and a family. And all I ask is that you and your friends slay the Orc and complete your quest for me. Who would suffer with one less animal in the world, Stix?"
Stix is genuinely taken aback by the response.
"Why? Why do you care about the orc? Or that he's hunting us?" The crone's expression darkens slightly.
"The beast has interrupted my own interests. A poor, mad animal that needs to be put down. A danger to itself and others."
"You want me to be your murderer?" The crone grins nastily in response and holds up the crystal ball.
"Murderer? I believe they will call it justice, Stix. Destroy something evil as you had planned all along. Wouldn't you want to return home a hero? I have full faith in your capabilities... Bertram."
Stix stares for a long moment at the swirling crystal. Then reaches out for it. The moment his fingers touch the smooth surface they become fastened to it. Stix tries to jerk away, but the hag's grip is like stone. Her other hand darts forward like a viper to plunge into his chest. Stix screams as the claws latch onto something and tear it free. He falls to the ground with the orb still held fast to his fingertips. The witch cackles ecstatically. His vision is already fading as the pain spreads throughout his body.
[b]"Away with you, little Changeling. You have much to do!"
Bertram suddenly bolts upright in his sleeping pack. The rest of the group is sleeping around him and Hydrand is standing in silent vigil. Bertram checks his chest and finds no wounds. The crystal ball sits neatly next to him on the ground, sunk about an inch into the earth. Bertram carefully stows it away and looks around again at the others, then lays down in his pack again. The experience had shaken him. Even if there was no wound, he could feel something was different. The orb was warm to the touch now. Bertram's mind turns with thoughts, but slowly he drifts back to his slumber.
Studying his equipment, Bertram begins meditating using the crystal ball that had drawn him back to Last Hope. The orb helps him focus and clear his thinking. Something within the orb resonates inside Bertram, and with focus he finds that he can clear the orb's misty interior. The orb reveals the whispers of spells and shows him motions to weave magic. The orb helps to enhance the affinity for earth that the Standing stones had stirred a year ago. As the party travel's, Bertram hones this attunement. Soon he can manipulate stone and earth using the orb. He won't be useless when he sees Smiley next.
During his free time, Bertram tends to stick to himself. The others notice that he bathes as often as he is able. His singed clothes and the ash of the forest visibly irk the Dwarf. Even in this heat he spares some of his water to wash his hands or clean his beard when able. Bertram continues his habit of using your race to call to each of you, but is coming more frequently to replace this with your names directly. He does not ask or pry when others in the group leave for their own business or return. He simply nods and welcomes the ally back into the fold.
When Hokey offers to go to the Stones, Bertram accepts. As he saw it, Hokey was the one who led them all to safety. It's fair that they return the favor by escorting her visit to the stones.
Only a few days of travel before reaching their destination, Awful broke away silently as usual. It was hard to tell but it seemed like he was gone for longer than usual. Several hours passed before you heard the whinny of a horse, grunting, and shuffling in the brush. Then silence. Suddenly you are joined by Awful atop a mighty draft horse, both of them sweaty and breathing hard.
"Is nobody going to ask where he got that horse!?"
Exclaimed Andras after seeing no one else try to question the mischievous rogue. It seemed the party was too tired to bother, it was a boon either way.
"Not that it's any of your business... But, I found it."
Awful said in a nonchalant this-is-probably-a-lie tone.
He grunts in disbelief, dissatisfaction written on his face.
"Can we have this conversation after we get to where we're going and rested some, please?" Another asks.
Awful looked at Andras expectantly, fighting back laughter. Andras, awestruck by the group's lack of reaction, grumbled to himself and moved towards the front of the group, away from Awful.
"This is Henry, he's a good boi. I think he's a Percheron, that's why he's so big. Yes you are, you are so big, you choncky-boi, he'll be a war-horse one day."
Petting the horse's neck fervently, then patting him, they continued to walk in silence.
=======================================================
Roguery Talent: Magic
Power: 0 + 1 = 1
Tradition: Technomancy
TECHNOMANCY|ATTACK|0
Target: One creature or object within short range.
You create and chuck a wrench. Make an Intellect attack roll
against the target’s Defense. On a success, the target takes
1d6 + 1 damage and falls prone.
Attack Roll 20+ The target becomes also impaired until the
end of the round.
Choice 1: Spell
TECHNOMANCY|UTILITY|0
Area: A cube of space, 1 yard on a side, originating from a
point you can reach
Duration 1 hour
You construct a Size 1/8 device that retains potency for the
duration. The device has Defense 5 and Health 5. You can
use an action to touch the device to an object you can reach
and that is not worn or carried by a creature other than
you. The device adheres to the object to which it is touched
and begins to vibrate. At the end of the round in which the
device was used, the object to which it was affixed takes
4d6 damage and the spell ends.
Choice 2: Also Spell
TECHNOMANCY|UTILITY|1
Duration 4 hours; see the effect
You construct a small explosive device. You, or another
creature holding the device, can use an action to throw the
device to a point within medium range. When the device
reaches that point or impacts against a solid surface before
then, it explodes in a 3-yard radius, dealing 2d6 damage to
everything in the area. A creature in the area can make an
Agility challenge roll. A creature also becomes blinded for
1 minute on a failure, or it just takes half the damage on a
success. When the device explodes or the duration expires,
the spell ends.
Erik looted...
- 2 Books
- 1 thing of iron bark with 1 incantation
- 11 copper bits
Bertram looted the following before being fatally sat upon:
- A piece of iron bark with 2 incantations on it
- 35 copper pennies (24 & 11)
- 2 Silver Shillings
Erik Book 1:
The cover and binding are metal with blades and barbs bristling the outside. Inside is a folio with 25 paper pages printed with black ink in the common language; the pages are well worn, bent, and stained from use. The text is dense with sparse simple drawings spread throughout. The book is a manual on warfare. Someone can spend 3 months (only during downtime) to study this manual and gain the Academic (War) profession.
Erik Book 2:
The cover and binding are metal with blades and barbs bristling the outside. Inside is a book with 100 vellum pages printed with blue ink in the common language; the pages in poor shape with extensive staining and burn marks. The text is tiny and dense with no illustrations. The book is a manual on the Occult. Someone can spend 6 months (only during downtime) to study this manual and gain the Academic (Occult) profession.
Use of these books grants 1 boon on appropriate knowledge checks, given you have time to reference them.
These books may also provide a story reason for an appropriate path.
Erik Incantation:
You have a piece of ironbark with a magical spell etched into it. The board let's you know that it will create a fountain from the earth at a spot within twenty yards.
Bertram Incantation:
This piece of ironwood has runes carved into it.
The first set of runes temporarily places a brand on a person. This brand dooms them, causing them to become more injured everytime they get hurt. The brand will fade after a few moments.
The second set of runes creates a glyph at any point within a few yards of you. Th glyph then bursts into flames for several moments, cause fire to boil around it.
Hokey book:
This folio is bound with thin wood wrapped in leather. It has vellum pages inside with printed brown letterings written in the common tongue. There is crude artwork scattered sparsely throughout. Reading it, it's difficult to understand exactly what the folio is about. It seems to be written in code. It will take time to deciher it.
Geraldd Incantations
This vancy scroll case keeps a water tight seal, protecting the papers within from becoming damaged. Inside are five incantations.
The first invited a deamon into the body of the wearer, allowing them to gain the powers of a fabled dwarven lord.
The second incantation provides a prison to entrap a single individual. This prison lasts for one day.
The third allows you to temporarily harm spirits and ghosts in their incorporeal form.
The fourth creates one holy symbol.
The fifth one makes other people believe you are one of them.
Hydrand Incantations
You have found a well crafted scroll case with waves carved and painted on the outside. The case is waterproof and will protect the documents inside.
The first incantation will allow you to turn water into ice, potentially trapping those in the water.
The second incantation causes the deep pressure of the ocean to come forth and apply itself to five creatures within one hundred yards.
Cap Incantations
Cap found a scroll case with a nice rose with some thorns and leaves carved on the outside.
Th first incantation causes it to heavily rain in a short burst.
Th second and third incantation causes lightning to shoot out from your hands.
Awful Book:
This book is bound in wood and covered with thin sharp wooden spikes. The book is well used with stains throughout. The vellum pages have a pleasant printed text with black ink. There are no illustrations, and the book is written in dwarfish.
You look over at the body of Bertram, the only one you knew who could even read this. Looks like you'll have to take it to someone who can read dwarfish to find out what it reads.
Awful Incantations:
This piece of ironbark has a scrimshaw carving of a battle scene. Within the scene are three incantations you can invoke.
The first one allows you to furiously attack your enemies for a very short period of time.
The second makes a single attack more deadly.
The third brings forth a large wall made of swords.
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Level 3: Lorekeeper
Will +1 (Total: 11)
Int +1 (Total: 12)
Power +1 (Total: 2)
Languages: Dwarfish and High Archaic
Professions: Academic (Fey), Academic (Medicine) and Academic (Etiquette & Customs)
Tradition 1: Celestial
Learn 0: Light
Swap: Sorcerous Lens to Explosive Darts
Tradition 2: Life
Learn 0: Life Sense
Swap: Light to Sun Shard
Learn: Cure
Swap: Life Sense to Seed of Life
********************
Down Time Activity
Hokey does the best she can to assist the Shaman in curing Geraldd, collecting and mixing herbs as noted in Huberic's book. Unfortunately, the Shaman still botched it broke the egg inside Geraldd, causing massive wounds. For the next couple of days, Hokey stayed with Geraldd and prepared poultices and tonics to aid him with his recovery. Otherwise, she focused on learning what she could from Huberic's book, and also through dissecting the worms she brought with her using a healer's kit she bought from the Shaman.
When Erik announced he would be parting ways, Hokey nodded in understanding, wishing him the best. She also began to pack up her belongings that same day and bid her farewells to Hydrand, Jimmy, Awful, and Andras, none of whom agreed to travel back with her to the Standing Stones. Saddened, but, again, understanding, she finally approached Geraldd and Hyacinth and presented them with 5 silver each.
"Go get a fresh start with this. I wish you both the best of luck. If you want to keep tabs with me, I'll likely be around the Tower Arcane in a couple of months. Stop by and say hi, if you want." Hokey says in farewell.
Over the next few days, Hokey barely made any progress with her travels, or with deciphering the book, devoting much of her time and energy to honing this new feeling. She happened upon a beautiful glade that was particularly bright and balmy, unlike the bleak, but oppressive heat she had been feeling throughout her journey. She sat in the middle of the glade, attuning to the perfect environment and the sensation she had been feeling. She felt an incredibly warm sense of satisfaction filled her body. Hokey opened her eyes to find herself surrounded by light.
"The magic of our Queen!", she unexpectedly heard from the edges of the glade. "You must have been sent by Her to aid us. You must help us, we can't go on like this anymore!!" she hears from her right.
Hokey looks about her and sees pale, sickly fauns dotting the edges of the glade, surrounding her.
"W-what do you want?" Hokey says, a bit taken aback. "Leave me alone. I'm no agent of anyone, especially not the Queen of the despicable people who turned me into this! What do you want?! Get away from me!" Hokey's emotions escalate from fear to anger as she listens to the pleas of the fauns.
"Please, you must help us. We're dying and we don't know what to do." the leader of the fauns continues to plead.
Hokey looks around at the sickly and wasting bodies of the fauns before her and relents. She stays in the glade for the next few weeks, working voraciously to apply the knowledge she had absorbed from working with the Shaman and Huberic's book to slowly progress towards a cure for these fauns. In return, the fauns provided her food and shelter, and possibly one of the only opportunities she'd have to actually discern the true nature of fauns. She threw herself at her work, finding tremendous fulfillment in both greatly expanding her knowledge, quenching a thirst she didn't know she had, and seeing people recovering under her care, a vocation she didn't think she was suited for.
Hokey easily meshed with the fauns began to cement a place in their community, due in large part to her very generous actions and positive healing results. There was a relief she didn't know she'd feel from the lack of callous stereotyping of the typical villager. However, as she began to explore more of her newfound Celestial powers and gained momentum with her healing, the fauns began to regard her as a priestess of the Faerie Queen. Hokey started being consulted with more and more decisions regarding the oversight of the village.
At first, Hokey didn't mind the extra attention and responsibility, feeling it was a natural result of her knowledge and skillset. But the fauns stopped treating her as one of their own and began treating her as one of their superiors. She began to feel the bite of loneliness and also began to study the book from the cave again. One day, she had a sudden realization that all of the fauns had been cured, and, at the same time, that she should also move on. She began to miss the slow and steady company of Hydrand and the disquieting pipsqueak, too. Hokey set off by herself that night, after writing a note detailing how thankful she was to this community and that she was headed to the Tower Arcane to join her friends.
Hokey was caught by the faun who asked her for help just as she got far enough from the village that it was obscured by the treeline. She explained to him why she was leaving and where she was going. He nods his head after mulling it over for a while. He gives her a pair of heavy, fire-proof gloves as the only thing the village could give as thanks for her generous help, before heading back towards the village, in a silent farewell. Hokey also leaves without turning back, taking with her the rich experiences she gained from her short stay.
Hokey quickly established herself as an expert on esoteric studies, especially on matters of Fey/Fauns and the nature of Parasitism. Between her knowledge, Hydrand's recommendation, and the connections she bought with her deep pockets, the Tower Arcane readily accepted her into their organization and put her to work in their libraries. With the resources of the Tower behind her, Hokey was able to quickly flourish in her studies, learning multiple languages and mastering several new magics. She then fulfills her promise to Bertram and Erik in the caves, by writing to Alistair Romden regarding Bertram's untimely end.
Wealthy Lifestyle: 1g
Adventurer's Pack: 1s
Belt, Pouch (Salt and Pepper): 2c
Soft Leather Armor, customized: 6s (2s + 4s (tailored))
Small Shield: 5 c
Longbow: 1g
Arrows: 5c
Awful: 2g
Salt Draught (10): 5s
Total: 5g 3s 2c
Pistol: 5g
Ammo (5): 1s
Atomizer: 5s
Holy Water: 3s
Total: 5g 9s
From: Lorekeeper Hokey, Tower Arcane
Greetings and Salutations. I hope this letter finds you and your House well. My name is Hokey, a Lorekeeper in the service of the Tower Arcane. I worked with Lord Bertram closely before establishing myself in the Tower Arcane, and have the pleasure of calling myself his colleague and trusted companion.
I write to you to inform you of Lord Bertram's unfortunate passing. As a proud member of the Romden House, Lord Bertram had his House first and foremost on his mind, even in his last moments. He requested that this letter be written and sent to you, Lord Alistair, in the event of his untimely demise, including a noble purpose behind his death to better console your House. Instead, I will write of the dignified and virtuous events that led to Lord Bertram, in order to properly illustrate the integrity and character of Lord Bertram Romden.
Lord Bertram's tale starts over a year ago, in the small village of Last Hope in the Northern Reach. Lord Bertram assisted myself and a team of deputies in thwarting a plot by dozens of Fomor to overtake the town. He then left, with commendations from Adelhan, the mayor, and returned several months ago, when Adelhan requested our presence for an annual celebration held in remembrance of the historic event. During this feast, a heinous Orc slaughtered the whole village by unleashing explosions onto the celebrating villagers, consequently destroying the whole village and setting fire to the nearby forest. Lord Bertram was one of the first to take action, and evacuated as many people as he could. Lord Bertram survived this encounter with the Orc, and fled with some of the remaining survivors to the village of Vanderhallen Hollow. There he succumbed to injuries sustained while saving a dragon from its fate of being perpetually parasitized.
My companions and I have since dispatched this Orc in Vanderhallen Hollow, with the assistance of the Aubergine Wizard, Jimmy of the Tower Arcane. My condolences to you and your House for the loss of such a distinguished member. Long may the Gods bless House Romden. Long may House Romden stand in eternal glory.
Sincerely,
Hokey
Lorekeeper, Tower Arcane
Soul Thief Expert Path
Attributes: +1 to two stats (Agility and Will)
Characteristics: Health +3, Power +1
Languages: Learned High Archaic
Magic: Gained the Soul Tradition:
Level 0 Spell: Feat of Will
Level 2 Spell: Topple the Mountain
Abilities: Filch Soul, Spiritual Aid
Equipment:
Previous Equipment Destroyed.
Gained Interesting Thing: Bar of Black Soap
Earnings 2d6 Copper = 7 Copper Pennies
Gained 2d6 Silver = 7 Silver Shilling
Selling the Letter of Commendation = 8 Silver Shillings
Total Cash = 19 Silver Shillings, 11 Copper Pennies → 2 Gold, 1 Penny
Purchases:
Living Expenses (Comfortable) = 2 Silver Shillings
Hard Leather Armor = 5 Silver Shillings
Longbow = 1 Gold Crown
Dagger x2= 1 Silver Shilling
Remaining Coin= 2 Silver Shillings, 1 Copper Penny
Bertram is in a daze as he stumbles through the blackness after the voice. He grips a torch in his hand tightly, clinging to the light. The mountain winds on forever and it is hard to determine how long he has been walking. During his trip, Bertram swears he can hear whispers coming from the walls around him. Passages seem to appear and disappear with each step. In his foggy confusion, he is hopelessly lost. He chases after the clicking and clacking of nails on stone as they lead him deeper. A shape emerges from the darkness, huddled on the floor. Small, thin, and wiry... a body crushed and beaten. A purple worm wriggles across it. Bertram's eyes dart around the small tunnel searching for danger. Were those faces that floated and hovered at the edge of his torchlight? He feared he might be seeing things in the stone.
”Ha... Hello?” Bertram calls out nervously. Then a humanoid shape glides forward from the dark. Bertram stumbles back with a shout of surprise. A pale, ghostly visage manifests in the torchlight, looking upon him sternly. The face is of a human. Hair that was once brown, but is now ghostly pale. The face bears scars on cheek and one eye gouged with a sharp slit. It cracks a sadistic smile across torn lips.
”Hello Stix.” A voice like wind calls to him. The lips did not move. ”Is that you? Down here with us?”
Bertram trembles. He knows the voice and the face.
”Trevor? No, no you're dead. I know that you're dead.”
”Of course you know.” The voice laughs like dry leaves in the wind. The one whole, milky eye glares at him. ”You saw to that, didn't you? But I'm not gone am I? Not gone at all. Not gone. Not...” The shade trails off as if losing itself for a moment. It stares wistfully at some invisible, far off place before eventually returning. The pale figure gestures to the body on the floor.
”Are you sure you should be here, Stix? You seem lost.”
Bertram is hesitant, but approaches the body slowly. He reaches down, turning it over to reveal his own face looking up lifelessly at him. The scratching on stone returns.
”Let me help you find your way back...” The ghost rasps cruelly. Bertram's world lurches, his eyes go blind and for a time there is only darkness.
Suddenly he takes in breath painfully. He is still in the dark tunnels, but there is no torch in his hand. He lies on the ground, staring up at nothing as he had woken once before. The clawing and scratching from the stones are gone. This time... this time there was a horrible physical ache. His being thrummed with pain, pulsed and pounded tormentingly. He rises to his feet gingerly. When he strikes the torch, he is alone in the tunnel. The ghost is gone, and so is the body of himself that he had found.
No... no the body was still here. He was rejoined with it now. Shaking, Bertram rushes down the tunnel to seek an exit. What had happened to him here?
Soon he comes to a river flowing swiftly in the dark mountain. The others must have come this way, but now he must cross it alone. He does his best, but the current overwhelms him in his exhausted state, dragging him into the water with a splash and extinguishing his torch. He tumbles and crashes under the surface as it carries him through the mountain. He chokes and gasps for air, and just when he believes he may drown he feels the world open up around him. Blinking, he sees stars above. Confused and disoriented, it takes a moment to realize that he is sailing through the air. The dwarf is tumbling down the waterfall that the group passed during their ascent.
With a heavy splash Bertram lands in the pool below. Before long he emerges, choking and retching water on the shore. His breath heaves and his lungs burn. He gains his wits once more, and huddles in the darkness of the mountain forest. A voice pulls at him, beckoning him into the forest and down the mountain. Bertram takes one last look up at the mountain that had swallowed him and his friends. Then begins to descend, following the irresistible call scratching inside his skull like an insistent rodent. The witch demanded his presence.
”You failed, Changeling. How disappointing.” The hag croaked. Her voice dripped with vitriol. ”I hope that my faith in you was not misplaced.”
Bertram squirmed uncomfortable within the hut. The building had loomed out of the woods on the mountain. He was sure it hadn't been there when the party had climbed the mountain. Now he huddled inside the dark room. Why did he feel like one of the small, chittering animals that huddled in dark cages at the edges of the room under her gaze? He shook in fear.
”We had a deal, Stix. Breaking an agreement with the old magic invites disaster, Changeling. I offered you family and wealth in exchange for your services. A price must be extracted for your breach of faith.”
”The orc was powerful! We stood no chance! I gave all that I had to help obtain the Ornament! It was buried within a dragon. Please, the-” Bertram pleads desperately.
”Your excuses are worth nothing, child. Your death was the result of greed and envy. I have helped you to cheat that death.” Pain begins to swell in Bertram's chest and head. Something writhed under his skin and inside his skull. ”I expect something in return.”
Bertram collapses to the ground coughing. The facade slowly melts away, revealing the wooden and dirt form of Stix. Something crawls through the wood and soil that makes up his arm. He can feel it burrowing deeper than simply his physical flesh.
”Please! I'll... I can serve!” He gasps painfully. ”Anything! I'll pay back my debt!”
The agonizing burrowing halts. Stix looks up fearfully through streaming tears to discover a wicked smile on the Hag's face. A filthy nail runs along her chin.
”Service? Yes, perhaps there is potential in you yet. We shall see if you can repay the life you've been given. You will serve me until such time that your debt is paid in full. A penance to match the greed that consumed you. A fitting payment for my efforts in bringing you back from your sinful indulgence.”
Stix winces. Had she hoped for his failure? Was he ever meant to have succeeded in their initial bargain? It hardly mattered now. Without a choice, he nods his agreement.
”Please, allow me to make this right. I will pay back the price of my soul.”
”Yes. Yes, you will, child. I will have what I am due.” The gnarled hand of the witch reaches to grip his chin. He can feel her skin twist and writhe against his face. He can feel something else writhing inside of him in response. ”Your brush with the other side has awakened something in you. You will leave, and you will hone this newfound power. A messenger of mine will know when you are needed. Be ready for my call, Stix. You will not get another chance.”
Stix nods emphatically. His hollow, whistling breathing is ragged behind the face place that covers his mouth. The hag releases him much to his relief. The Changeling collapses to the ground. Slowly, the facade of Bertram reasserts itself. His mind steadies, becoming more hardy with the change. With deep breaths he calms himself and tries to control his shaking.
”Go now, Stix. Seek your fortune with your new life and await my summons. Do not deny my task when it is laid before you.” The door to the hut swings open of its own accord. Bertram flees out into the woods again and does not look back.
After his encounter with the Witch, Bertram considers returning to his home and the Romden family. Try as he might, however, his experience had lifted the veil. He knew now that Bertram was truly dead and no amount of lies could return him. He had told the others to inform the Romden family of his untimely demise. Returning now would lead to questions in the future. He decides it is better to allow the family their mourning from a distance. Guilt pulls at the Changeling, but his greed and envy of the Dwarf's life had led to the end of his own. He had not wanted to hurt the Romdens. In a way, they had been the only family he had ever known, but he could not live in a dream.
Instead, Bertram makes his way to the coast. He finds a home at the docks in the town of Saltmire. The people here accept the Dwarf's help loading and unloading ships. The town is a common port of rest on trading routes. Bertram is able to make a decent living for several months. He learns more about the world from the captains that arrive to trade and sell goods to the small town. He even improves his writing with the help of a traveling scribe on one of the ships, learning a new method of saving paper. It is a welcome change after the recent events in Vanderhallow.
Despite the peace, Bertram's dreams have become strange. The Changeling only dreams of endless labyrinthine tunnels under the earth. They seem to draw his memories from him, leaving him foggy and dim the deeper he delves. He finds that the crystal ball he bears is able to shed light in this place. There are people here in the tunnels. Shades of others who arrived before him. Some are silent, pallid figures that simply stare at him as he passes or watch from the edges of the soft light shed by his orb. Others mutter to themselves and barely register his presence. They scratch and plead with the stone around them in confusion and madness. Bertram does not belong here and they are drawn to him like flies to a corpse. Each trip does not take long before there are several following him curiously at the edges of his light. When he awakens, Bertram feels them lurking within him, like fading memories or shadows cast on the walls of his mind. They linger there like rodents in the walls.
Several months pass. One evening, there is a knock at the door. Bertram sees a figure hurrying away. There is a flash of porcelain from under the heavy hood. Bertram finds a letter on his doorstep, written in common. A large purple nightcrawler wriggles on the ground next to the envelope. Bertram takes one last look around before taking the letter inside and opening it.
Dear Bertram,
I write to you in most urgent need. I have come to Hymen Caul with companions in search of further clues to our heritage and have made an interesting discovery in the Tower of Catamenia. Something is not right here and I dare not write about my findings for fear you may think me mad. My companions are vanishing and the townsfolk do not understand me. The rose is shining brightly and it burns me. I ache. Come. I will show you how to float.
Sincerely,
Thibad Anvilhood Romden
After the more metaphorical dust settled in that forsaken hollow, it became clear what the next steps were for Hydrand and the band. With Andras' life pledged to Jimmy for one year, and Hydrand seeking to continue in the company of his powerful ally, it looked like traveling with Jimmy was an easy course of action. After what he did to that charred, smiling Orc, it was a comfort to stay where he was near, even despite the imminent threat against their lives now neutralized.
So they gathered up camp at the Aubergine Wizard's behest and left the hollow for more populated ground. They headed for Caercras, but more specifically, the Tower Arcane. Hydrand sought to continue his training under Jimmy, staying close with the wizard. This also meant being close with Andras, as he was doing his one-year pledge the most noble service he was capable of. Blessedly, his other friends were welcomed with open arms... except Eric and Geraldd. They had left after the hollow in search of a simpler life; something settled and quiet without wizards or orcs, the band parted with their incredibly moral one-time woodcutter and the veteran whose lover had lost her life to spiders. He was also quite upset at Hokey's departure, but he understood quite deeply what she felt and sympathized enough not to get in her way.
After arriving at Caercras, there was some settling and growing pains, but the party stayed close. Closer than they had ever been before, but after what they had been through together, it was hard to find anyone closer. He was also immensely joyed at Hokey's arrival, and had no problems finding motivation enough to pull all the strings he'd collected to give her the best Caercras could offer. With Awful, Andras, and Hokey all in one place, he had the closest thing to a family he'd ever known.
Trauma builds strong bonds, it seems. Hydrand had found himself thinking one night while on watch. Now working in the employ of Jimmy at the tower itself, Hydrand had volunteered himself for whatever would keep him on the road to building himself up into someone more capable of protecting his friends.
So he got guard duty.
Little did he know that this would be perfect for a number of reasons. Time to meditate and grow himself through introspection? That was right up Hydrand's alley! It gave him every chance to speak with his friends as they stopped by as well, but most importantly, it gave him time to practice his magics. Under the... strange tutelage of Jimmy, he worked through some interesting magical constructs. He was sure he was taking on the role of Vanguard, but Jimmy had other, more eccentric plans for his mechanical ally and student.
After his training, and much fun and growth to be had with his allies, something... more interesting happened.
Hydrand was delivered a letter from a strange courier late one night. The post Hydrand was guarding was really quite safe, so while Hydrand wasn't letting his guard down, it was very easy to ask questions first and start up the defensive magics later. Because of this, the courier was able to deliver his letter and slip away into the night without much protest from the metal man. Hydrand was familiar with receiving various missives at thisnpost, but... this one was different, and there was something off about the hand that delivered it.
Not the first time I've entertained odd company. Hydrand throught as he tucked the letter away against the weather. It was hours until morning, so he would hold onto it for Andras until then. Not often does Andras get mail. Hydrand shrugged and continued his meditation. He truly had no idea what the consequences of delivering that letter would entail...
Upon arriving at Caercras and subsequently making the journey to the Tower Arcane, Hydrand began to familiarize with the area. The lack of any sort of sleep requirement gave him the ability to explore during some early off-time, and he made a few acquaintances in the city as he wandered about. Gaining a familiarity for the Tower Arcane and Caercras at large put Hydrand at ease with his new surroundings.
Could this be a home for me? He shrugged. I guess... it's at least home for now. It has everything I need; Awful and Andras... I sure miss Hokey, though, I hope she's doing alright. He felt a small pang of emotion at missing her, but also a small pang of jealousy. I said I would return to the stones one day, too, and she beat me to it... Should I have gone with her? I suppose not, this alliance with Jimmy has already proven fruitful for my training; I'm going to stick with it a while longer. The road to becoming a Tower Vanguard is a long one, but it's for the best. When I do find a home, I want to be able to protect it.
Hydrand decided it was time to get down to business. He reached out to his Tower benefactor, Jimmy, the Aubergine Wizard. He had seen Jimmy in action and knew he would be a capable teacher. He entreated Jimmy to further his training; after they had done so much training on the road to that wretched hollow, Hydrand was excited to see what sort of training could be accomplished in a more suitable setting.
Jimmy wasn't opposed, and revealed that he had already made designs upon Hydrand's curriculum and regimen. He would join the Tower Guard so that he could stay in the tower barracks, with his marginal need for shelter met, he could focus entirely on his training. Even while he stood guard for Jimmy and the Tower, he was running through formulae, forms, and magical errata as Jimmy would direct.
However, Hydrand had made one very, very large mistake. Jimmy was a Wizard of the Tower Arcane, true, but a teacher of the martial, he was not. Hydrand sought to focus his martial capabilities alongside his magic, but as he was drawn further and further into Jimmy's teachings, he found he had not the time to keep up with such things. Magic enveloped him as Jimmy developed Hydrand's Power; showing him how to draw more deeply and more efficiently from his well opened up Hydrand's magical capabilities in ways he never could have imagined.
Once the slate upon which Hydrand's magical capabilities was written had been expanded, it was time to fill the freshly blank spaces with spells and incantations heretofore unknown to the metal man.
Hydrand mentioned aloud to the Aubergine Wizard that he was glad for the tutelage and looked forward to his new title of Tower Vanguard. With a laugh, Jimmy proclaimed, "Yes, yes, of course! Now, what do you think is important to become a Tower Vanguard."
"The ability to use my magical and martial might to protect... To Protect. Hydrand reiterated with emphasis rather than complete the sentence another way.
"Good, good, it's true! So let me ask you this. How in all of the hells and the gods' green earth do you expect to protect anyone when you are
Hydrand was almost taken aback! Jimmy wasn't a stranger to outbursts like this, and while he was a strange teacher, a teacher he was.
There must be a reason.
"I'm not sure what you mean, sir."
Jimmy laughed and said it was time for sparring. They moved the lesson to an area designed for such training, and as always, had gathered a small crowd of off-duty soldiers, vanguards, paiges, and other miscellany.
Looking across the modest arena to Hydrand, Jimmy said, simply, "Catch me."
Hydrand wasn't a stranger to strange training, but pressed Jimmy for an answer. "Sir, what is the purpose of this training?"
"Hydrand, I love ya, but you're gonna be fully useless to any combat that isn't a motionless scrum. You've been lucky so far, but in a pinch, I get the feeling you would fall fecklessly behind and drag all of your friends down should they really need to get moving."
Hydrand knew he certainly wasn't the quickest of his friends, and he was thankful, finally, for some more physical training. So, with a nod to Jimmy to indicate he was ready, he gave chase. Jimmy easily outstepped him, maneuvered around him, and was constantly out of reach of the metal man. They trained like this for more than a month; Hydrand pushed and pushed and while he achieved some small measure of additional agility, it was nothing compared to Jimmy's effortless motion. He was practically walking circles around Hydrand.
He's not even martial, how the hell do I beat him? What is he expecting?
It was apparent to Hydrand that he was missing some key ingredient to becoming the Vanguard he dreamed to be. If he couldn't catch Jimmy, how could he hope to catch a threat like the Orc in combat? Jimmy did his best to keep working with Hydrand, but what Hydrand didn't know is that Jimmy was priming him for the biggest, metaphorically and literally, magical leap forward he had taken since tapping his wellspring of magic while training near his plinth what seemed like a lifetime ago.
"Alright, novice, you know the drill by now." Jimmy said, pouring no small amount of vitriol into the word so Hydrand knew it to be disparaging.
Already pissed off, what a great start to my day.
Hydrand entered into some familiar gambits that allowed him to close some of the distance with Jimmy. Today was different, though. Jimmy seemed particularly bilious and his motions were filled with as much disdain as body language would allow. Hydrand felt anger rising, fading to desperation and insecurity, doubling back to fury, his thoughts skipping from whether he was going to lose his tutor to how he was allowing himself to be treated thus. He felt his feet gripping ground with each maneuver as they had when he found his limits, and his frustration boiled over into rage.
At the limit again?! Already?! No closer than I was three weeks ago!! It was uncommon for the metal man, though he knew it was a basic property of the living, that his emotions seeped from his brain and into his mechanical apparatuses. He felt his indignation pour out over his body as a warm sensation; it wasn't the first time he had let his self-control take a backseat to his ire. He opened himself to his wellspring and cast magics to try to stop Jimmy in place, to hold him with chains, but each time the Aubergine wizard would slap away the spell as if it were nothing. He was running dry of magic, reaching for anything he could when he remembered the method of recovery he had learned by training with Jimmy before.
If I open these channels, I can recover some of my vitality and fill my well, then mayb-.
He opened himself, felt the half-magic, half-physical apertures opening all over his being, felt the magic and life energy pour over him, except this time it was shaped by his motion, his emotion, instead of filling his form, it broke him loose. He felt as though he had broken loose from an immense friction that had been holding him back since he was given life. It felt like a sweet release, shackles that had bound him, bound everyone, he realized; they were slipping away. So he poured it on, he poured his wrath into the magic and he saw that damn smirk Jimmy wore turn briefly to fear as he slipped free of Father Time's binding grasp.
Jimmy whipped his hands through the motions of a spell, his staff appearing in his hands as if from nowhere, and then he was gone. But not gone, Hydrand knew where he would be. He stopped on a dime, using the friction of the air, of the ground, and of time itself to rebound and reverse his momentum. He had so much power flowing through him, with no signs of stopping, he knew he could catch Jimmy.
Jimmy flew through every spell he could muster that would add distance between him and Hydrand, until he tried for the ability to Travel and failed in his panic. Hydrand swept up to him at speeds prohibited by basic physical laws, threw an arm up at his collar, seized it in one hand and lifted him from the ground.
The regularly gathered crowd had grown and began hooping and hollering. Those familiar cheered Hydrand's name as he let Jimmy back to his feet. The wizard clapped him on the shoulder and led him back to his quarters. It wasn't often Hydrand was allowed to share the casual company of his tutor outside of teaching and working, but he supposed Jimmy was feeling generous.
"You surprised me, you know? I was expecting you to work out some teleportation magic, not slip free from your temporal constraints! This is a most exciting development, and now that you've accomplished it, there's nothing to do for it but hone it further!"
And so he did. Hydrand spent every waking moment (which was all the time when you don't need to sleep) burying himself in magical theory and stressing the bounds of time on himself and the world around him. He was quite excited, as well, to share this recent development with his friends, Awful and Andras, as well as the recently returned Hokey; they celebrated together as comrades do. Having grown so close with them over those Caercras months, he realized that he could call anywhere home as long as he had his friends...
Family? Yeah, I like the sound of that.
...as long as he had those he had begun to consider as his family there with him.