Evgeni Genadiev's page

Archpaladin Zousha here, rolling stats:

What's my next step with the rerolls and switches? I'm angling for a "battle-astropath" kind of character, if that helps, the kind of guy who says "I never bought into the notion that my body needs to be weak for my mind to be strong."

While obviously I want to avoid 'rolling the character for you', I'd recommend the following:

- Use a reroll for that 2 in the Weapon Skill, the 1 in Agility (Melee characters do appreciate speed), and the 1 in Fellowship.

- After that the two swaps should do what the Storm Dragon suggested, getting Weapon Skill, Strength and Toughness high up, with Willpower or Agility being the fourth to round things up.

- At that point, you should have your Role selected, as some Divinations give extra talents based on what you have. There are a few options here:
-- The Crusader is my recommendation, they're strong and convicted, the option to spend a Fate Point to avoid Fear, and the Knowledge aptitude.
-- A Fanatic or a Hierophant has a more social bent instead.
-- Warriors are straight up combat only (but the option to fully dedicate to psyker abilities is still there), the Penitent is a more crafty type.

- After that you roll for your Fate Threshold, Wounds and Divination, and add your freebie Aptitude.

Once that's all done, there's 2500 XP to be spent on advances, but I think that's a question for later.

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@TheLastGhost - I'm going to add a set of mechanics for a Seeker instead, and let you choose which one you prefer more if you end up selecting me. I think they'd both fit with my idea of my character!

EDIT: Has been added and both sheets are now up to 2500 XP.

I may have to copy someone else's homework to format a proper character.

If you'd like, you can copy mine mine, it's just a notepad document I play around with, but I think the bold, italics and smaller texts help visibility.

Here it is for quoting purposes:

Alias made, and thank you very much for the selection, GM Violant!

I'd be perfectly fine with no magic, that said, I believe the Witch's opinion should be the most heeded one here - as a gun-toting, druidic herbalism-espousing Nature Fang pickpocket, the sole thing I lose is the 1st level and 0th level spells.

Have a great game, everyone! Thank you for the consideration and hopefully see you around!

Giving the lizardfolk another brutal slam with the shield, the dagger in Tasha's hand almost slips away, before the enemy practically walks into it. Huh. Guess it is lucky after all., she ponders, before bringing down the shield onto another kobold. "Don't make me chase you again!", she roars at the halfling with the spell burning in her veins as she steps to the side to look at the swarming kobolds. "The goat won't work for the stew, but you look tender!", she jests.

Me, the player, was also thinking of a similar concept to Dro'gan, but that'd not be anything remotely close to what Bartolo would think of doing. He's not disinterested with the idea of punishment, but he'd be the first to admit that he's not got the mind of a statesman, and besides, he's not the noble of these lands.

I do like the moral dilemmas one needs to do to do spycraft, though. Especially if we do have those dilemmas voiced in character!

I think Onora's name comes from 'fish' or 'pisces'. But I may have been immature enough to laugh.

I mean, her defending herself is a part of the trial we've discussed above. Bartolo would love nothing more than to make a show, since it's important that we do look at least a bit official, but he's pretty serious in doing things right once they fall on his plate.

I don't think we oughta leave that to the crowd and their approval, since that's pretty bad long term, and we wouldn't want to become Galt.

I think we should stick to Olivia's 9 point plan, but we should talk to her, first and foremost, prior to the whole affair. If stuff starts to become less obvious as time goes on, we'll decide it from there.

"Yeah, Lordship? You want to come take a closer look?", Garvid roars as he tosses his longbow to the ground, his arm held tightly into the worm's jaw, as he turns around to see Yazi swarmed. "Don't leave Yazi alone, if the flying dogs can't eat you, they'll stop swarming." The stinger from the worm pushing past his armour, Garvid's furious facade twists to glare at the humongous creature's maw, as his armoured fist begins raining furious blows onto the creature's jaw. "Your face needs rearranging."

Hmmm... Regrettably, becoming an all-mighty and powerful scum would probably require resizing my armour. And that sounds like it's going to be a whole thing. So no Aster sacrifices, I think.

The sight in the room makes Tasha's mouth gape, before her stomach rushes to her mouth instinctively. Her dagger at her side, she takes a look at the egg. A... a baby? An adolescent? His mind, warped as it is, is all there. She nods at Aster, before taking a step towards the aboleth, the dagger in her hand glowing. "You've kidnapped me, and many others. Your armies have killed many mermaids. And you tried to kill us about as many times as I can count." The dagger in her hand lights up red as she closes in. "It's only fair we get a shot at killing you at least once. Then, we can talk."

As the madness descends upon the party, Garvid's eye flare with it. All semblance of constraint from the man disappears as he roars, sprinting forwards. "Get out of my heaad!" The beast, not expecting the reaction, does little as the blade burrows to the shaft into its softened belly carapace. With a vicious twist, the guardsman yanks out the halberd with a furious heave, unknowable viscera trailed around the weapon's blade. "I'll end every last one of you! Go back to the ground! Back, or it's the last thing you'll do!"

Not being able to find it in himself to refuse to Trinia, the guardsman adds to Yazi's notes. "Just don't stop thinking with your own head." Seeing Li somewhat more sullen than usual, he purses his lips. "How you doing, kid?", he asks, as a smile flickers on his face for a moment. It might just cheer her up. Tag Li, see OoC.

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Nodding appreciatively as Yazi tips the Duskwardens, Garvid grunts approvingly at the man. Nice to see someone cares about safety here. Then again, we don't have deadly undergrounds in Korvosa. He furrows his brows. Except the ones with the wererats. Or the daemons. Or whatever ancient mystical dreadfulness is under the Castle. Maybe we oughta get our own Duskwardens.

"No questions from me. If I see something I shouldn't see, I'll whisper to you. You tell me if you want me to go get it or start running.", he replies with a curt tone. I'd love to know just what's down here, but I'd imagine he doesn't want to scare the merchants. He leans on his halberd, and starts staring at the Twisted Door suspiciously, as if he doesn't particularly like it.

Sheathing off the dwarf from her dagger, Tasha shouts, "Well.. Old boots are a thing you don't want when you're... fishing, right? I thought it made sense!"

An exhausted looking, slightly aged gray mare is tied shoddily to a post near the doorstep. A massive Taldan man with a short nobleman's beard of latest Opparan fashion waves at the carriage, sitting jovially on the grass with a lute in his hands. The illusion of an everyday noble is slightly broken, however, by the rather large and tribalesque shoanti warhammer at his feet, which he gently leaves on the grass as he stands up, giving the tired mare a hefty pat on the neck with his massive palm.

Slowly approaching the carriage as it slows down, Bartolo extends his hand warily as the door opens, hat in hand, aiding whoever would take the unknown man's hand in aid to descend from the vehicle. "Good afternoon, madams and other madams.", he says, and with only a minor hesitation turns towards Chana, clearly regarding her as the head one in charge. "I do apologise for my rather unorthodox approach and my uninvited appearance, but I was in the area and I heard about the Betony's long-lost cousins, and felt that it's only fair that us new arrivals in the area ought to keep in touch.", he harrumphs in a deep, melodic voice. "I'm Lord Bartolo Talbot, but please, don't hold my last name against me.", he raises his hands. "I can assure you that I'm a sybarite, an insufferable socialite and an immoderate scoundrel.", he adds with a face two tones too straight.

"And being all those things, and a presumptious opportunist to boot, I daresay that, since your manor seems to be lacking a groundskeeper and a maitre'd, I figure that our families can both benefit from some mercantile sense." He shrugs. "Failing all that, I offer a night's worth of song and tales in return for a warm meal and a bed softer than a horse's ass."

Bloody hells., Ladim's eyebrow darts up at the General's appearance. The short man nods, his lips parting with anger at the box. "You've got it, mate." Giving the man a tap on the shoulder, he grits his teeth. "We'll teach 'er a lesson she'll never remember.", he sips his flagon with anger, "Because she'll die before she can forget it." The sorcerer's hands glow with a pale, blue light. "You know where she is?"

Ugh. Had a writer's block for this for a good few days, and GM, you did it better than I could.

"The dagger. Get that gods-blasted dagger out." Garvid whispers before the verdict is pronounced. "Let the other Arkona watch.", he grunts out quietly. As soon as the blade is in sight, he stands up at attention, nodding at Neolandus to lay down his judgement.

Garvid sits at attention as Neolandus pronounces his verdict. His hand on his halberd, he returns the stare from Glorio with a stone-eyed stare. It's done. He's facing his crimes. Maybe not all of them, but that's up to Pharasma to decide. A spark of hatred lights in his eyes as Cressida's voice denounces the law, but it quickly subsides as a vengeful smile graces his lips, locking his gaze with the rakshasa. And those are your final words. Wrong, spiteful. The guardsman's nostrils flare out. And afraid. You should be.

Nodding at the final verdict from Neolandus, Garvid moves forwards to stand towards the tied-up noble's chest. "Korvosa's crumbled many times, Arkona. But that just means we build her up again." With a furious kick, the jade chair tumbles into splinters, dropping the rakshasa to eye level. "Trosker ep Styrk, you rat bastard."

Heh. I was burning through Grit like nobody's business, so I don't think that was ever on the table.

Also, I got pretty panicked a couple of posts, and I completely forgot to respond to the cavern conversation when I was thinking of responding to both Mihaela and Kolthis. :( Managed to contract some of that dread over the internet and in PbP! Good job, GM!

That's coming down now, better late than never, I suppose.

As Glorio is finally bound and tied, Garvid stands up, exhaling a heavy breath. He hacks out a bloody glob on the ground, and leans on his halberd. Another glance at the rakshasa, however, brings a grim smile on his face. Lord Arkona, caught and about to be punished for his crimes. Right in front of me. I'd love to drag you to Longacre... But I've never been less sure that you won't cut a deal with the Queen... Letting out another bloody cough, he nods between heavy breaths as Lord Talfryn briefs Neolandus and Vencarlo as to the current dire situation in Korvosa.

"Stri- *cough* ahem, strictly speaking, we've not been disavowed. Just defunded and de-staffed. But we're all deputies or else to the Guard.", he lets out a chuckle, lifting his bloody badge. "Although, Lordship here,", he tilts his head towards Talfryn, "Missed the part where the assassins that attacked you... Oh, and burned your school down, by the way - they're operating out of Longacre." Slowly descending to sit on the ground, Garvid continues. "So damaged is a good word for it, Lord Seneschal."

Taking out his journal, he raises his head at Neolandus. "I could use your aid in legal matters. We're in Old Korvosa, which as a quarantined zone could qualifiy as dangerous land. We're injured, which means our chances of safely transporting the captive,", he gives a not-so-gentle nudge with his boot to Glorio, "are reduced. And with your admissions, we have eight proofs of attempted murder, two counts of torture, at least one count of consorting with devils, if we ignore whatever he is." Glancing at the elephant's unmoving body in the corner, he lifts his eyebrows and laughs. "And two of endangering the public with wild animals."

"For the first eight alone, he'll hang eight times. I suggest we skip the torture, since I've had enough of that for a lifetime.", Garvid stands up, "And if you think the circumstances would allow for the execution to be carried out here in the interest of the public... I'll follow it through.", he finishes. "But we have to do it right, and give him the chance to say his final say and defense, rotten as he is."

Taking out the coil of rope, previously holding Meliya, Garvid growls for a second. And now that b!!## is bound to pop up again. Or run, if she knows what's good for her. I have to warn Vancaskerkin. Throwing one end of the rope over the resplendend chandelier, Garvid tightens the other end around the elephant's magnificent tusk. It's a shame. All this foreign beauty, all covering this rot. "Lord Talfryn, I'm afraid we'll need that chair.", he croaks out a moment later as he steps to grab Glorio.

I'd suggest we make it a little more official this time. I'll have a list of the crimes and fake fantasy legalese ready for after he's made his claim. And also, OOC, I couldn't resist the conceptual idea of a rakshasa not only being killed by mere mortal, but trialed and executed. He's bound to be rather irate at the thought, too.

Hey Sybil, sorry to see you go. I've been struggling with burnout myself, and that's something normal. (I think.) I've had a lot of joy playing with you, and I'd love to see you in the future. If not, then all the best for your future endeavours, and know there's always a place on this table for you!

@Azil, you're still sticking around, I hope, and I'll try and get to you as quickly as possible.

"Eyes up here, you hellspawned prick!", shouts Lys. Seeing Mihaela attacked by the devil, she bites her teeth, aiming straight into the devil's head. Two squeezes of the trigger, and two bolts stick out of the devil's eye sockets, as it takes a feeble step back into the murky waters. That was a devil... Right? Pure luck..., a thought crosses her mind as she glances towards the hidden crossbowman. "Mine's bigger, Hyve!", she roars defiantly.

As Lord Talfryn's spell binds the foes into a shell holding back an elephant, Garvid stands still for a moment, mouth agape. Wizardry... I heard it was scary, I've been along them for so long, but still... The web bursting from the air by Glorio, however, chokes him back into reality just in time to avoid them completely. "You should've learned, Glorio!", Garvid roars as he spins his halberd in the air, the vicious blade cutting through the spiderwebs. "No matter how many webs you spin, we'll cut right through them!"

HP:51/121

Just to mention this, since I haven't before (or I don't remember it, which means it never happened), GM Fox, I don't know if it's the AP or you, but the ambience and the environment here are magnificently varied and complex, and your descriptions are great. Go you!

Hostile terrain is something that's really hard to GM (from my experience playing sci-fi games), and so far it's been pretty hostile!

For further reference, Mihaela - that still only counts as one.

I'm having a blast, even though I've shot my crossbow, like, once. The RP is great, and the party's a bunch of amazing and deep characters.

That said, I should mention, risking the wrath of my fellow players, that some increase in difficulty might be welcome. After all, we can't have a horror game if we're not terrified of beasts and creatures, and only managing to defeat them after a hard battle or a flash of luck.

I'd disagree with Walter regarding the traps and alarms - that works in F2F, but you only put a door in a game as a PbP GM if you're off for a week's holiday. Watchful foes might work, but with the insane amount of Stealth and Invisibilty we have it'd be verging on the improbable. And hiding from horrors is another common trope that I like.

@GMLC - Wicked tends to slap the advanced template on the minions, since we're a little too powerful in CotCT, that might work, as well as other templates that would be reasonable. Other option might be even more enemies of lower skill, I suppose?

Hey everyone! I was out for a week after the New Years, and wow, this kicked off in fifth gear. I'll post in a moment!

Lys is quiet, the search in the dark place seemingly tempering, if not draining her constant energy. As the party ascends the steps, her lips are pursed in heavy thoughts. She says little but one-line answers as Matthis greets them, and the walk through the pouring rain up towards the Manor is only interrupted by a weary sigh once in a while. I don't want to go back there..., a stray thought carries itself to the fore of her mind as she turns to look in the direction of the Stone Circle, before prying her attention away.

At the manor, she hangs her head compassionatelly at the mayor, until he has his outburst, her morose mood seemingly disappears as she's shaken into attention once more. As he starts shouting, she stares back, her face surrendering that she's putting all of her strength to hold her tongue. Her mouth opens briefly for a couple of times, before she holds it. No need to embarrass myself, again. And I understand grief, I do..., she grits her teeth, giving the mayor a curt, professional nod before turning to follow Jarvis into the library.

"Well. That's it. We've lost Walter.", she mutters quietly as she steps next to a large globe on a pedestal, poking the map gently as she spins it. Been there, been there, not going back there..., she hums to herself absent mindedly, spinning the globe as she does. The conversation between Yelena and Walter seem to bring Lys around, as she appears, eyes peeking into a jar with a tiny ship inside it. "How do they get it in there..." Placing it next to the table, she sends a wink at Yelena. "Best of luck with that. I think my favourite one is Eleanor, though.", she grins, the appearance of Mihaela and the conversation about languages seemingly making her shrug. "I could go. Books here are a little too heavy for my taste, and I could use a walk - Plus, it beats listening to that conversation.", she nods her head at Walter. "It sounds like when your boot is stuck in a swamp, doesn't it."

Garvid chuckles at the mention of Vimanda and Chamidu's heralds. as he cuffs Meliya's hands behind her back with no regards to comfort. "Right, right.", he chuckles loudly. "Vimanda, Vudrani goddess of being a frequent pen-pal of disgraced guards. The exact type of deity that sends her heralds to Korvosan balls and mails them daggers. Cut the s$!!." Grabbing the manacles, Garvid ties a piece of rope around their chain, coils it a couple of times and ties it to his belt as Meliya continues on, the 'lawless' and 'meaningless' comments drawing his ire as he clamps the chains tightly.

You're just pissing me off on purpose now, Arkona... Gritting his teeth, he adds."For a useless jurisdiction, we're sure getting a lot done. You're an arrestee, not a hostage. You're at my side at all times. If anyone dangerous is in front of me, you hide behind me.", he relays, grasping the manacles as he nods Meliya towards Li. "Guardswoman Li, care to check if our arrestee has something she shouldn't have on her?", before noticing the wincing in both hers and Talfryn's side.

Tricks and talents, huh. "So, we now have admission in full for being complicit in a kidnapping, right?", Garvid glances around with a flat expression on his face. "I'm not the damn expert here, but when you were doing the mind-reading, Lordship, you were chanting those weird words and playing with that coin." Turning back to Meliya, he shrugs. "My experience, that's how normal magic works.", he spits out the words. "But anyway... If you'll permit me one last question, your Ladyship.", his lips curl. "I couldn't help but notice Avidexu here shouting for Vimanda to help, and not Meliya. And, Hells, I was half thinking there's a third Arkona about, but at some point, even your master-crafted h&+%#%&#! ain't enough to cover up all the stink your family's kicked up." He grits his teeth.

Pulling out a set of worn steel manacles from his back, he nods. "So, Meliya or Vimanda or whatever your name is. We're arresting you for kidnapping, conspiracy to dispose of bodies, accessory to cannibalism and consorting with demons." His face is an impervious mask, though in his thoughts there's only fury. "If you play your cards right, I'll speak on your behalf. You might even avoid the gallows. Now drop the knives and turn around.", he orders with a commanding voice, moving to chain Meliya up.

And if you think about making my day..., he closes his eyes, his thoughts intensifying towards Meliya, images start filling his mind. The broken, bleeding Gray Maiden helmet in the hospice. The disembodied horse-headed demon, sprawling in filth amidst a dozen cultists in the bellows of the palace. The corrupted form of Andaisin lying festering on the marble floors. The decapitated forms of the Red Mantis assassins in the basement, heads neatly in tow with a signed writ next to their feet. Senshiir's concaved ribcage on the cold floors of the torture room.

...you go right ahead, sunshine. Won't be the first.

We're pretty badass, guys. Also, we have an amulet of protection against divination, if someone wants to grab that. I'd imagine it's pretty useful right now, but you don't need to be a mindreader right now to know what Garvid's thinking.

Actually, I saw Archpaladin Zousha's idea about the Ferrans and I had to double check what I know about the race - the quest for a colony sounds amazing.

There's just a couple of paragraphs on them in their sourcebook, but that just means there'll be more chance to improvise and develop them!

My idea's changed to a kind and well-meaning Ferran doctor, keen on making sure that the planet and the colonists are safe, but also gain a good enough reputation with the colony management to let more Ferrans come and settle

@Archpaladin, maybe we can do a common idea for the background and develop the race further?

Because last demon we fought was a picked corpsebeast in a jar, not a damn guard. Hell was I supposed to know... Gritting his teeth at Meliya's reminder of Avidexu's death, he shakes his head. "All I have for you being trapped is your word. For all we know, you saw what happened to Senshir and decided to help your brother dearest when you realised we're a little more than he can chew. And you seem to know a helluva lot about Vencarlo and, more importantly, about us." His fist curls. "Something's fishy here, and it ain't the reefclaw."

"How would you have learned all that?" Taking a step forwards, he rubs his eyes. He paces around, his lips moving silently as he tries his best to recall the past hour in detail. Found him... her in the labyrinth. Head hummed, nobody confirmed anything magical. Argued about capture and justice. Refused Blackjack's weapons, which was a red flag. Chatted about stuff, which was reassuring. Vesper, Trinia... Grau came into question... Called me on my s#@@ about training in the academy, the- Wait a second, Grau?! Garvid's eyes snap back at Meliya, accusatory finger pointing straight at her ribs.

"I can go with learning about sisters, given all their relation to the throne." Baring his teeth in a vindictive snarl, he adds. "Which, by the way, means you were probably there when he was questioning Vencarlo, or at least trusted enough to be given that information. That's not my point, as much as I'd like to."Smash your head for it... Waving his hand, he shakes his finger at the rest. "What I wonder, though, is how would you know about Grau's family?", he snaps back, glancing at Li. "Can't imagine the first questions Glorio's asked him on the torture rack was 'how's your friends' families doing'. Yet, you knew. How?"

Garvid's face turns rapidly red as blood flows to his face, glancing at the body of the rakshasa at his feet. Just a damn guard, huh. Hell of a job, even if you're from Hell itself... "Listen here!", he roars, his gauntlet grabbing the scruff of her silken robe. "I've had it up to my neck with you and your thrice-damned family!", he shouts, pointing down his halberd, Avidexu's blood still dripping from the tip. "My eyes are wide open, believe me! First, it was your damned niece, Vimanda, convicing a guard to start a damn butcher shop with human meat." His knuckles widen. "Then it was your brother throwing us down here, and we, the fools, came like idiots!" Exhaling, he bites his lips glancing at the body.

Twisting the collar downwards, he turns his full attention back at Meliya's face. "And you, faceshifter. I've not a single clue of what you told me was true, but my hindsight's working fine. You heard me shouting about capturing your poor, poor friend, your 'guard' alive,", he grits his teeth, pulling the woman closer, "and you pretended to be out cold, just to feel bad and guilty the moment we caught you feeding us h*~~@&&++, and tugging at our damned heartstrings."

Shoving the woman roughly backwards, he snarls once more. "If you'd paid any attention to us commoners talking, you manipulative b+$!+, you'd know we don't just blindly murder anyone! And I'm betting you don't even give the slightest of f!!!s that I just killed Avidexu, and not even the slightest remorse in knowing that if you told the truth a moment sooner, he'd be alive." Pulling on the robes with no regards to their fine make, he shoves Meliya towards the still bleeding body. "That's all on you. Look at him! People and friends die in your games, but when it's your ass on the line, you want to stop playing."

Letting go, Garvid shoulders his halberd. "So now, as my friends said. Drop your damn weapons. Show us to Vencarlo." Wiping the blood on his halberd with his cloak, he drills his eyes into Meliya's, a bloodshot and vicious, almost feral look in his eyes. "And, since you're a creative sort, imagine what'll happen to you if you lie to us again or lead us into an ambush."

Lys shudders in her coat once more, the rain a familiar, if unwelcome, old acquaintance. It's biting. Should've taken Bosworth on his offer. Making her way towards the spiral, Lys' nose wrinkles at the smell of waterlogged carnage. One glance at the alleyway is enough to send the hairs at the back of her neck springing up. I've seen worse... but barely., she notes, and as Yelena disappears down the alleyway, she takes a glance up at the wall, her teeth clenching. "Well, Matthis, I'm a career nevermind, and I've never seen anythin-", she begins saying, then her mouth suddenly stops, wide open. Running to the nearest shelter from the blinding downpour, she starts flipping her ancient libram frantically, until she finds it. A passage, barely a summary in the 'Compendium of Beasts, Monsters and Malefic Wytches', written next to a semi-erased sign of the three-headed goat.

"Beware greatly, hunter, when you see the sigil of the three horned beasts. For the wyrd of its kin is antidiluvian, rivaling even existence itself. The ill-minded bedlamites who offer prayer to these eldritch unknowns, glimpse but a fragment of their power, but that is enough to fold reality and space, crossing leagues in the time it takes a weary man to blink, and blink you should not. For there are no nightmares worse than those lurking around the Old Cults."

Oh, gods, any gods. That's bad. Very, very bad. Slamming the book shut and quickly putting it down her satchel, Elize raises her wide-open eyes, ushering the wizard to join her. "Walter?", she hisses, with nary a jest in her voice. "Th- that's the sign of the Old Cults. Sign for portal magic and beings forgotten when the world was young. The Dark Tapestry." Turning to walk into the alley to rejoin the others, Lys pauses for a second to wait for the soggy wizard. "On the bright side.", a forced smile appears on her face. "At least it's not fey, right?"

Still humming under her breath, Lys turns to see the rescued woman rise up and her mouth opens, as if to welcome her amongst the living once more. The manic, horrified monologue sends a chill down her spine, the dread conviction of Ustalav in every word from the young woman's mouth. "Buw how do-", she starts to say, jumping from the ground to turn towards the woman, not seeing the dagger in her hand.

Eyes gaping in horror, Lys leaps towards the young woman, hands pressed tightly on her neck, trying hopelessly to stem the flow. "No, no, no, hold on, hold on...", she cries out, muttering, as the blood flows between her fingers, realising only a moment later she's holding a dead body. "S@!#!", Lys shouts, leaping up from the body, snorting back a gasp. "Why woul-", she chokes on the sentence, kicking a rock from the fire into the muddy waters. I've seen horror, but never like this. Not like this.

Don't go to Carrion Hill. Escape like you can. Escape like me. The last words of the nameless girl hang in Lys' head for a moment, as she sits quietly by the lakeside, blood and mud on her hands. Escape, Lys, but not like her. Come on, run. You can get on the horse, get the wizard too, if you want, and go. Away. Leave Ustalav to eat its own, and escape. The voice of the traveller is the loudest it's ever been in years, louder than even in the morning as she strode down, leaving Viktor alone to die. "Yeah. But she didn't get to escape.", Lys answers herself, glancing at the dagger in the woman's hand. Something got to her. Something evil, and something powerful, something that will keep doing it, and nobody will stop it. And that f!%&ing thing already killed two people, today, and I absolutely hate it.

Exhaling angrily, Lys grabs the massive darkwood crossbow, taking off a whippoorwill feather charm and a spiral on a silver chain from the stock. Taking a step towards the body, she swallows, emotions and thoughts alike. Her hat in her hand, she clears her throat. "Lady of Graves.", she starts. "We've not talked much. But, for Viktor's sake, if not mine, please take her to be judged, and grant her the peace she deserves. And... him too." Leaning down to close the woman's eyes and grab the small dagger, she tucks the blade in her boot. I'll be sure to give someone your regards.

Whistling for her horse, she nods at Walter, cold fury in her eyes. "I'm on an inclination to find out what frightened her so much to kill herself, and see if it sticks to a wall. You coming?"

As the stench of the Wasp Nest hits her nostrils, Tasha nearly gags. "Ugh. That's worse than the tents after a winter caravan run.", she hisses through. Moving to her corner of the room, she pours out the contents of her writing bag with great displeasure at the destruction of what's more than a month's worth of writing supplies. Groaning, she disappears upstairs, returning a moment later with a flagon of coffee.

Nodding in a sarcastic smile at Rexus passing by, she shakes the burlap sack containing her newly recovered armaments. "Right. Let's see what the damage is here.", she chirps, before unloading the bag onto the ground. A set of heavy, Age of Enthronement era, Chelish armour pours out of the bag, alongside a heavy, bronzed shield. Despite the scent of sewage, the armour appears practically intact, even the studded leather skirt showing little damage. Tasha gasps in a pleasantly surprised tone. "Wow! I never knew it was actually true. I guess it really is magical." A smile crawls on her face as she leans back.

Turning back to Rexus, flagon of coffee in her hand, she scratches her head. "Uhhh, could I borrow some paper from you? Mine's...", she points to the gloopy gray mass in a bucket. Sitting down with a quill, stopping only once half-through to get a re-fill, Tasha shows up with a devilish grin to Rexus' desk two hours later, slamming a parchment on it.

"I think we really ought to find the Quill. If we can send a couple of workers to pick up my printing press from my old apartment, with the Quill alongside us, we should have a good finger on the recruitment." She sighs. "We should probably keep an ear out for any Order of the Torrent Hellknights roaming around. We could use some well trained fighters on our side."

I think our next step would be to find a way to purchase/renovate a new HQ with water access, then focus on expanding the rebellion, be it with Tasha's writing or the Quill's.

The roar of the horrifying tiger-headed aberration catches Garvid off-guard. The towering snakes, the tiger heads covering the walls, all seem to work together to draw the feeling of alienness, of strange, unknown Korvosa, one he'd never seen before.

The burst of magic from Talfryn, the familiar haze as the world slows down around him pushes the thought to the side, and as Yazi's Shoanti incantations echo loudly in the subterranean halls, he feels the reverberating call of Korvosa, of guards, braves and protectors from ages ago.

This isn't some terrible beast roaring as you thread upon its lair warily, the spirits whisper in the low of his neck, as they feed into his anger. This is a poor, lost, wretched thing, away from its land, raising its voice in one last call of defiance. You are the Guard, and that is your quarry.

"You should've stayed quiet, beast man.", Garvid roars back. Passing by Kynes, the two snakes snapping at him, he glances at his foe. "You're in our town.", he snarls, sprinting forwards, the furious ghosts at the base of his neck roaring viciously in his head. The halberd's tip finds its mark into the creature's bared chest, the force of the blow such that it pierces through the back. Raising his head towards the rakshasa, Garvid bares his teeth at the carnage, the spirits sated, for now.

Hey everyone! I've perhaps unwisely decided to run the classic 36 page module Carrion Hill, and have opened up a recruiting thread here. Anyone from this game would get preferential odds of making the cut, so if you feel like jumping in, please make a submission!

Would be delighted to! I'll ponder a bit regarding the theme, but I could absolutely go for some Lovecraftian vibes.

@GM - Kind of. Garvid's implying he was studying in the academy at the same time as the two more famous students, Grau Soldado and Sabina Merrin under Vencarlo.

In other news, I finally moved out of the shoebox I was living in to a new room in a house! I have a wardrobe now! And a real bed! And it's 5 minutes to work!

Hey everyone!

Post-work hit me hard and unexpected, but I'll not be dishonest and not say that I kind of put my PbP on my backburner for a week. But now I'm here!

@Azil! Hey! Welcome, and thanks for your interest. For Shadowrun, I've always been a firm believer in the 'play what you want and hope your plans/fixer are good' school of thinking. There's SR for Snow White and the Seven Chromed Trolls, and SR for Ocean's Eleven and anything in between. Different teams do different jobs, after all.

To be perfectly, brutally honest, I think we could've played without a Matrix runner at all, but there's one now, and I've freshened myself on the rules, and will again.

So, if you want to join in:

First - gimme a character pitch in the form of a backstory (and ideally, an IC snippet), then if I like it - I'll let you know how to build a character.

@Regarding 6E and Shadowrun bloat - You're all so right, yet despite all of that, I love the 'crunch' of the system. I just don't feel it'd be Shadowrun if you're not considering the difference between that assault rifle and that other assault rifle.

I've not had a chance to check out 6e, since I've barely had any time to post since it came out, but I managed to catch wind of it being a little dodgy. I'm generally against us changing systems, since I'd need to learn another one, everyone will need to re-build a character, and will destroy months of meticulous effort crafting NPCs take some time for me to gain enough understanding of the system, what's dangerous, etc, to make the enemies just the right amount of challenging.

Kynes bursting into a monstrous form and pouncing at the creature seems to do little but irate Garvid further. "What in the...", he growls out, shaking his head at the Lamplighter's form, only to see the asura tear into Mouse, barely even noticing the blade in his side. Noticing the beast being distracted by the malformed shape of Kynes, fangs deep into its side, Garvid's face grows into a vicious grin. "So here's the thing...", he roars out in the asura's face, as his fist slams hard into the back of her knee, bringing her to the ground. "...we the Korvosan Guard, really, really hate...", he continues as his heavy boot slams in the asura's ribs, stamping mud onto her colourful clothing. "...anyone who f$%& with the peace. Now stay down, drop the weapons, or else.", he finishes with a swift kick to her ribs, spinning the halberd to point at her chest.

Hey everyone!

Sorry for keeping you waiting for so long. I'll not be able to get a post today, but I'll do my damnedest to get one tomorrow. The bright side is...

Good news, everyone! I got a new job, less hours, an hour and change closer to home, and a lot more organised structure. I'll be starting that in late October, and I'll be trying to be more present here (now that I'm not worried about being sacked, I can cut down on the unpaid overtime!)

Hey everyone!

Sorry for keeping you waiting for so long, and I'm sorry to have saddled poor Wicked with driving Garvid. However...

Good news, everyone! I got a new job, less hours, an hour and change closer to home, and a lot more organised structure. I'll be starting that in late October, and I'll be trying to be more present here (now that I'm not worried about being sacked!)

Post coming up!

SSo, so sorry about the wait guys. I'll explain in Discussion on Wednesday, but long story short is I'm living the wageslave dream with all the overtime and no spare time.

Miss Johnson nods. "Great. I've done some recon, but information ain't somethin' you can have enough off." Extinguishing her cigarette in the nearly overflowing ashtray, she nods. "I'll head to scout out the chem lab. Y'wanna be my eyes in the 'trix, be my guest." Sending off an AR link for her comms, she stands up. "Keep me posted on whatcha find. And here's the front pay.", she passes a credstick onto Freddy, who nods, seemingly little more at ease.

The targeted day is in two days and change. Also, you all get 1,500 nuyen each for 'emergency expenses'.

Due to the task, I'll let Sybil chip in wherever she feels like she'd be the most useful, or even switch between the two places (as per Matrix Rules), as the two places are the same distance from where you are.

Recon away!

Ugh. You guys are amazing to keep up the RP for so long, even if there's a bit more friction than I'd have liked. If you need to chat, give me a PM. Also, everyone gets 2 Karma for RP interludes and witty commentary!

Freddy seems to react to the to-fro between Sybil and Wraith with interest at first, but then clears his throat audibly. "Sorry Kaffer.

At Nomad's question regarding the wheels, Miss Johnson nods. [b]"I've got the most stereotypical Phoenix y'all ever seen. Reckon if middle age had a car, it'd be that.", she nods. "Guess I could loan in to you two, if you're hittin' Vashon, but I'm wantin' it back." She nods afterwards to the rest, then back at Sybil. "Aight, folks.", she nods. "Here's the layouts."

Your PAN's ping with an incoming message request, featuring three different maps - a ground plan of the Magic Shop, Hexersschaube, the Vashon Island Outfitters and the AG Chemie's chemical lab.

She claps her hands. "Well, all things considered. We say our happy couple go to the fashion store. The mage, the gunslinger", she nods at Glass, though her eye jumps at Sunset for a moment, "and the big boy go to the talismongers. I'd warn you for a bigger chance for people playing hero there, but hell, least you'll get to geek the mage with every shot.", she chuckles. "Though try for low casualties."

She turns her eyes at Sybil. "I was pinin' to hittin' one o' them myself, but if you wanna be my guardian angel, darlin', I ain't gonna mind it. I know a thing or two 'bout meds and pickin' locks, but less time raidin' is more time lootin'. I've got a stored jap bike in a container at the docks, so I've got me covered."

Right, so I think Sunset/Glass/R-R is the perfect team for the mage shop. If Wraith and Nomad hit Vashon Island, then Sybil can either help them, or go watch over Miss Johnson - it's the same matrix rolls anywhere, come to think of it.

She lights up another cigarette, and finishes her coffee. "At any rate - what we're aiming for is hitting them all on the 15th, two days for now, right at 1825. Citygrid indicates that's the biggest congestion on the block - and that's bound to give us a minute or so extra to fill our share. Then, it's smooth sailin'."

Freddy nods, then rises up from his seat. "Any questions?"

As the conversation turns towards the mysterious job, Freddy seems slightly relieved when the mood of the room seems to turn against the word-tight elf. His gaze pauses for a moment on Wraith, as if he waits for her comment, and just as he lights another cigarette. "Sounds fuzz. I'll call Johnson #2 first." He lights up a cigarette, then locks his gaze with R-R. "Wheelman!", he opens a nearby crate, labeled almost comically 'XXXX', and pulls out a dufflebag that seems to almost send him bawling over. "Well, can't say it was easy, but nothing big and loud is.", he laughs, before pulling out a magnificent FN MAG-5. "Turns out, us Euros still do 'em better than the rest. That's ten from you, R-R, and I got you this as an extra." He draws out a 50-round mag, marked with the tell-tale steel-blue ribbon for APDS rounds. That's the gun, ammo and a 10% ish surcharge for Freddy's time.

As he's holding the magazine in one hand, and his cigarette in the other, the new arrival rolls in, and sheepishly makes her acquaintance. Freddy's mercantile smile flashes wider for a moment, as he lobs the magazine towards the ork, spreading his arms open wide. "Hey hey to you too, bluebird!", he greets, as he sits back down in his chair. "Just don't Mister me, man. Not into the whole...", he waves his hand in the air, "custom thing, man. We don't bite in here, and word on the street is you're a wiz string-slinger. Grab a beer and say hi to the gang, I'm already convinced." He leans back, shrugging.

"Make your meets, and I'll get our Miss Johnson in tomorrow."

Hey guys!

Regarding the spending of Karma - feel free to write a story about training, with or without a tutor alike. There might even be an extra Karma or other tidbits added in for great writing or ideas! We'll handle that part of the fluff a little loosely, though I would expect something to be written if, for instance, Nomad decides to take Pilot(Tracked).

Feel free to ask questions and raising suggestions in here.

Blacksap - Sure! In general, Shadowrunners come and go, and it's possible that you took your payday, your goodfeel, and kept on running somewhere else. Maybe too many elves? Feel free to write something, and then Freddy can find your new character?

R-R - excellent! I'm glad to see I've sparked the fire of Shadowrun in you, loving the character!

Now, for an actual post. Better late than never.

The unnaturally appetizing smell from the food fills the room, and you all enjoy a artery-clotting, cancer-inducing meal, delicious with every single bite, and a rushedly excited message from Freddy is beeping on your comms.

>>Woo! The Schildkroteschwanzen of shadowrunning, that's you. Hope you hooped their frags.

A trid GIF with the man's drek-eating grin raising a beer and a thick cigar in his hand in your direction, accompanied with a second message.

>>You catch some Zs and get out of Gaia's fragging PMS out there. I'll get the deets for the meets, and tell you whether you need your winning smiles or skull vents for that guy.
>>Probably the former, but bring both just in case. Whatever it is, I'll see about giving you at least a day, to patch the wounds and doze off the party life.

As time goes by, even the Jazzed up partiers seem to slow down, and the dopamine rush from the oily delights in the place seems to be replaced with regret. Road-Rage notices two orks giving his truck a once over, the younger one seemingly moving towards it. The second one stops him, putting a chrome hand on the boy's shoulder with considerable weight, and pulling him back, his other hand darting over the truck's features, while he talks at the boy. A moment later, the boy receives a smack on the back of the head, as the older ork raises his hands in a defensive gesture towards the Titan, and the two disappear down an alley.

As the six of you move out back towards the truck, the few remaining inhabitants capable of perceiving you give you a once over, eyes focusing mostly on Sunset, Alex and Road-Rage. The Titan is still at its place, and as soon as you enter, you feel the weight of the night and the job replaced by some exhaustion.

That's the mission part done! All that's left is the payment. I'll try and get a post up either tomorrow or Tuesday, and until then - how do you celebrate another day in the Sixth World? What do you do in your time off?

The sight of the floodlights follows you through the storm, which seems to have started giving up on the Barrens. Alex' hairs continue standing up on his neck for a long while after the gangers' cries have quieted down, the lingering taint of the Astral vision of Redmond sticking in his Gift like old engine grease.

Road-Rage drives past a pack of rabid-looking... creatures, half-barkingg, half-howling at the rapidly cruising past truck, and within a moment, the half-hazed memories of turns and roadmarks on the Redmond's ruined structure seem to click, as he turns into what appears to be a road going nowhere, only for the Titan to head towards Touristville in a much darker, if quieter road, the shaking of the rigger's car intensifying further. Ruined buildings, potholes more than two-feet deep and advertisements for unknown products by unknown corporations litter what little you can see. VITAS, the Sixth World, and, undoubtedly, Redmonders themselves have left their mark onto the landscape.

Road-Rage's well-trained eye spots that the used road forks in two - one side appears to be the road towards Touristville, and the other - to the South and Renton. Though misused, it's obvious that the zone around you has been used for a meeting before, as this is the first time since your detour that you've seen space for more than one vehicle to pass. Turning the Titan towards the flickering multicoloured lights piercing the night sky, R-R drifts off towards Touristville.

Perhaps because of the storm, the usually bustling place is almost quiet, with only the booming of the music coming out of the, according to the trashily made AR, 'Skazziest Places in Seattle!', and the exceptionally cross orks and trolls huddled under roofs of scavenged aluminium, angrily staring at the few tourists addled enough to be crossing the streets in the pouring rain. Though, as soon as you park the Titan, you feel something change immediately. You've once again, at least for now, slipped back into the shadows. Bruised and battered, but alive.