The forms look unnatural and foreign to you, even considering your early studies. The mannerisms suggest some form of humanoid anatomy.
Ian:
Such devices may exist in fancy healing wards, but I think the likely-hood of you or anyone in the room possessing one would be unlikely. I sort of rolled that into the results of your heal check, failing to find a way to stop the overbearing cough. At this point, potentially more extreme measures would need to be taken and with greater difficulty.
Outside
Your eyes are training on the single open door. Another flash of lightning reveals the incoming enemies once more. In a few moments, you see the shadows take form as they come within range of the door. A grotesque horror barely able to be called human shambles towards you. Its skin is pale and devoid of any blood. Atop its head are attached large elk horns, jammed into the skull. Its long hanging arms are in fact a pair of severed arms sewn into the hands of its original arms, but appear to be fully articulated.
As it approaches the doorway, it lets out a hungry moan, clumsily raising its multi-jointed arms to attack.
Inside
The hunter struggles for breath, one hand clawing at his throat, the other squeezing tight on Ian's wrist. His eyes are wide with fear and pain. His life is slipping away and you can feel it. If you're to save him, you have one last shot.
The others, however, have begun to separate themselves, some willingly and others by force, so that those overcome cough are segregated to one corner and the unafflicted in the other. Children have to be pried from their parents who sit sobbing through painful coughs. Their tears are slowly stained red from blood until its no longer tears at all.
Heal DC 20 to Postpone Hunter's Death
Only two of the forms outside have come into view, the others are only visible through flashes of light. A reminder, initiative is in posting order, and enemies will go last. Do your worst.
With the crowd pushing over each other and furthering the chaos, Athanasius tries to call for order. A few hear his words and act decisively, but many others choose to ignore or are overwhelmed with fear. Ian reinforces the elf's commands with an military-like bark. With it, Ebonheart seems roused. He begins helping to lead the crowd into the corners, in an orderly fashion. In their panic, a few have escaped up the stairs to the second floor.
Ian
When you rush over to the hunter, he is collapsed on the ground in the fetal position. His coughs have calmed to almost strong wheezing, but his eyes still run with blood. You look him over for any familiar symptoms that might lead to a form of treatment, but this looks like a combination of ailments - many unknown. You can see the faint spray of blood that'd been expelled from his coughing. It is dark and oily. His wheezing worsens and transform into gasps for air. His face flushes blue with suffocation. If his cough doesn't subside, you surmise he has less than a minute to live. His body begins convulsing as if sobbing. His sister watches on, screaming and in tears pleading for you to save him.
Athanasius, Duglin, Pfflÿs
While Ian tends to the wounded hunter, you maintain your vigil on the entry way. The fog has begun to slowly fill the front passageway. The loud static sounds of rain pouring into the streets fill the chamber. Distant thunder can be heard rumbling away. Duglin leaps forward and slams one of the doors shut. As you all take a steady look out the remaining door, a flash of nearby lighting illuminates the fog in the courtyard, revealing several monstrous figures. You only catch a glimpse of their forms - tall, maybe six or seven feet so, hunched, long curled horns, and arms that scrape the ground. You count four from your memory, and they were slowly marching towards the building. Duglin slams the final door shut - bringing only slightly more quiet to the halls.
Several other audience members are overcome by a violent cough... and a stifled scream from upstairs rips through the hall.
When Ebonheart finishes his call to action, there is a brief moment of silence as the crowd begins to look around for the first volunteer. Duglin is the first step forward. The backwards turned faces give a look of appreciation, many nodding in approval. Ebonheart responds, "Thank you. It is a great gesture for new member of our population."
Next, Athanius volunteers himself, his nerves readily apparent to the crowd who raise their brows in concern. Many shrug off the curious stranger and begin to nod in approval. Ebonheart acknowledges, "You have our thanks, friend."
In the middle of the meeting, the familiar tapping of rain begins to pour onto the roof. A strong gust blows against the side of the building, causing the wood to grown wearily.
As Ian gives his silent acceptance, you can catch the wide-eyed gaze of children who are stricken with both fear and awe at his strong presence. "A man of your... skills will certainly be welcome," Ebonheart says, with a slight grin.
When the small gnome rises up on his seat, murmurs flood the chamber as the attendees begin whisper among themselves. They silence themselves the moment Pfflÿs begins to speak. As the speech comes to an end, the townspeople are decisively silent. A moment goes by before Ebonheart stammers, "Uh - well - um, thank you for volunteering."[/b]
A young boy stands and begins to speak but is interrupted and pulled back down to his seat by his mother.
A pair of hunters rise, a brother and sister, and offer up their assistance. Ebonheart thanks them for their service, and scans the crowd, looking for any other volunteers. When it becomes apparent that no others are going to step forward, he proceeds with the meeting. "As you know we have quarantined the sick in the homes of the departed. It is important that you isolate yourselves at the earliest signs of -" The brother of the two hunters begins to enter a severe coughing fit and Ebonheart pauses to let it pass. Those seated nearby stir uncomfortably in their seats and slide themselves further away. His sister begins to console him, but to no avail. He keels over the seat in front of him, as coughs grow from raspy to wheezy, almost like a whimpering animal. The rows around him clear out, many pushing themselves into the aisle to gain clearance. When the fit finally subsides, he straightens his back and apologizes, but Ebonheart and many others before him let out a panicked gasp. Frantically, he looks around the hall trying to figure out the problem, and as he turns towards the back, you see tears of blood dripping from his eyes.
Panic begins to take over the hall and Ebonheart tries to bring order. "People please, remain calm! There is no need to -" once again, his words are cut short. His gaze remains set on the open doorway, and as you turn to investigate, you see why: billowing rolls of fog are spilling into the town hall. The crowd erupts into a frenzy, leaping over seats and each other to reach the back wall of the chamber. The coughing hunter is pushed to the ground and enters a frenzy again. Ebonheart stands at the podium in fear, his eyes slowly turn towards you looking for help.
You all hurry back to the town hall just as everyone finishes taking their seat. You can see many heads turning and looking suspiciously at you. A number of attendees lean over to their neighbor and fill the hall with whispers. A number of empty seats remain in the back. Ebonheart clears his throat, pulling their attention back to the meeting at hand. He gives you a welcoming nod and begins to speak.
"The recent events that have transpired have shaken Sorrowmoor to its core. After the first tragedy that occurred a fortnight ago, we tucked away the idea that something malicious in the forsaken woods may be invading our peaceful home. But when the same tragedy repeated itself each and every night from that day and the growing numbers of ill, we can no longer ignore the grim reality. We are under attack." Ebonheart gives a dramatic pause, letting the news sink in and tensions rise. "I have called you all here today to see who of you would be willing to join my efforts and put an end to these unforgivable acts. As I am sure you all wish to provide support, I need those with the time and resources to devote to this cause. For everyone else, continuing your work and providing for the town will be just as supportive. If you would like to join, please rise."
Ian and Duglin approach red once the door is shut, choosing to investigate rather than report what they saw. Meanwhile, Athanasius and Pfflÿs hang back at the bend of the road. Duglin leans in close, placing his ear between two wooden slats.
Duglin's Perception:
You hear the thin whisper of warm air peeling through the wood wall. Beyond that, the occasion pop of wet firewood is the only other thing you hear - until several loud knocks echo into your ear.
Ian approaches the door carefully, yet casually, and makes several loud knocks... but no one answers.
The three new-comers from the tavern peel off from the back of the large crowd in pursuit of the cloaked figures. The cloaks are a dark charcoal wool with generous hoods draped overhead. As they cut down a byroad, you convene with a weapon-bound man of great stature and wild hair. You are quick to identify that neither party is associated with your quarry. Maintaining a careful distance, you approach the road they took and peer around a corner house. From a distance you can see the two figures are stopped in front of a residence. The door cracks open for a moment before being swung open wide for the two to enter. It is quickly shut behind them. A shrill breeze rips across the road carrying the foretelling scent of rain to come.
Duglin's Perception:
As the door is closed behind the figures, you are able to make out a crooked figure hunched in the doorway holding a lit candle. A nasty snarl distorts his grizzly face. His head is covered in patches of wispy hair that hang like black cobwebs. He gives a quick look outside before latching the door shut.
Survival 12:
Judging by the cloud formations and heavy scent of earths in breeze, you expect heavy rainfall within the hour.
Going to start working on the final town map. And just a heads-up, I may be posting in the mornings for a while as my wife is having troubles sleeping and keeps me occupied in the afternoon/evening.
The barkeep acknowledges your requests and quickly coordinates with his partner to have you served in an expedient manner. Upon his return he rests an elbow on the bar and leans in to engage you, "If you're here to help bring peace our town, then this is on us. Otherwise, that'll be two silvers each."
Duglin:
Your meal is delivered by Merrie, who seems to finally have found some downtime from the kitchen. As you lean in with you question, her gaze grows distant and her face ever paler. "Old wive's tales? Aye, and young wive's and children's, and huntsmen's and tavernkeep's. I know how it sounds, but you'll see tonight. Make sure you're locked by nightfall."
Ian:
You wait patiently for one of the patrons to finish with his prayers. Shortly, a young man, no older than 18, rises and passes you by. He stops at your questioning, his lips quivering and eyes filled with ready tears. "No longer. Sister Ellen was the first disappearance," he says, voice quivering and wiping away the escaped tears. "She was out on a hunt for tribute and returned late as the fog rolled in. I was in here reading up on the Parables when I heard her scream. She was shouting for everyone to hide and to stay out of the fog... so we did. The next morning, no one could find her. There were no signs of her." He walks you outside to an exterior bellhouse of simple construction and unties the pull string...
Your momentary rest is interrupted by the pervasive gongs of the churchbells. The Huntsman's Howl is quickly filled with the clamor of wood chairs pushed back against flooring. The families all break into conversation with each other. Even the barkeeps rush to prepare the building for leave. "Follow the crowd," the man says to the three of you. "And perhaps it'd be best for you to stick together. Good to have friends in these times."
As you take to the streets, you see the many shut doors opening and cautious heads peering out before finally joining the crowd. Many of the buildings you pass have a painted slash across the door which never open. Something catches your eyes however, running against the the flow of foot traffic off the main road are a pair of cloaked individuals. The crowd headed for the townhall is too absorbed to notice.
I'll give you guys some time to finish up your scenes before moving into the townhall if needed.
As each of you approach the tavern, the group of women gathered outside shoot you suspicious stares and grow uncomfortably silent. As each of you approach, you hear the tail end of the unmistakable whispers of gossip.
Ian:
A portly and fidgety woman grabs another by her arm and says in a panic, "My boy, Lazel, claims he saw one creep past the window. Claims it had big horns reaching to the moon."
Athanasius:
A tall and slender woman in fitted black mourningwear says with certainty, "I swear I heard voices outside my room one night. I'm telling you, I heard it say... [inaudible]" her voice trailing off as you get closer.
Pfflÿs:
A small and timid woman with short brown hair pipes up,
"My poor grammy, when she got sick just before passing, she started going on about how this wasn't the end for her."
Duglin:
An older, stern woman with piercing eyes exclaims, "This wouldn't have happened if that damn Ebonheart knew the first thing about these woods."
The Huntsman's Howl
Inside the simple tavern, you see families filling the tables in the main dining space. Most of them look morose and melancholy. They continually turn their attention towards you as you enter, immediately recognizing you as foreigners. In the back corner, a large wooden board painted with a striding elk is pockmarked with small holes from the darts thrown by a drunken crowd. The walls are adorned with various mounting from prized kills of the local hunters. A couple works busily behind the bar and in the kitchen to attend the surplus of patrons. One, an athletic man with a small beard and long ponytail runs bowls and mugs out to the waiting tables returning with the clamor of empty dishes. The other is a taller woman with braided blonde hair serving up bowls of stew and warm bread while singing a somber melody.
Once taking a step inside, the man calls out to you, "Aye, looks like we got an outside!" A cautious smile momentarily brightening is face. "I can only imagine why your here. Grab a seat and rest, we'll all be headed to the town hall shortly."
Duglin The man stops to take your order, "Aye, that'll be Merrie's famous bobcat and shroom stew. As for the ale... well it'll help take the load off you that's for sure." As he hurries to bring you your meal, he returns with a curious look on his face, "Say, are you by chance the new smith sent to us?"
Erastil's Temple
On the outer reaches of the town, a small and simple structure marked with a large greatbow above a set of double doors acts as a temple to Sorrowmoor's patron, Erastil. The doors are propped open by two heavy stone carvings of a majestic stag. Taking a step within, the ground remains dirt throughout and large candles line the perimeter.. Around the outer edges of the building are long benches for the weary. In the center, simple burlap mats provide a place to kneel, pray and meditate. At the back of the building are a few private quarters that act as an open place of rest, fitted with a simple bed and end table. The only ornamentation inside is the pedestal at the center of the room. Carved into a lavish depiction of Erastil's four allies, an ornate wooden podium holds the open pages of the deity's parables. There are two other patrons inside, crouched on opposite sides of the room on their respective mats. They give a welcoming nod as you enter, then return to prayer.
Pfflÿs Not sure what you mean about the replaced spells. Those would normally be added to your spell list at the appropriate level, but swapped with the ones from dual cursed. You want to take the mystery spells instead of the dual cursed spells?
What, you don't want the extra skillpoint? :P I'm okay with the human bonus. Maybe a quick blurb on how you picked up that human versatility?
War pony is good.
Duglin In your backstory, you left the name of the town you work in blank, would you be up for being a Sorrowmoor resident? They'd have need of a local smith that pretty much keeps them entirely self sufficient.
Ian You mention a place named Ardis in your backstory, any idea where in relation to Ilderan that might be? Or where you might be arriving from?
It has been nearly a fortnight since the horrors began, since fear itself stepped into the silent burrow of Sorrowmoor - the nightly fog that snatches up the unsheltered, the rampant plague that is decimating the hard working population. Between the missing, the dead, and the fleeing, Sorrowmoor’s population is almost a quarter what it was in the not-so-distant past. Mayor Ebonheart is desperate to have peace returned to his people, and has sent out a request for aid to the capital city, Morningport, and the great citadel of Frostfall. Moreover, the families that have taken to the roads are sure to tell everyone they pass of the recent events. The distrubance can be felt at a near primal level for those who dwell within the Hagswood - a blight is leaving the flora bitter and wilted while the wildlife exists in a persistent state of panic.
For reasons each your own, you have answered the call. For some, your journey carries you along the Hagway, the road that cuts through the Hagswood to Sorrowmoor. Its looming canopy of twisted trees blankets you in a unnatural darkness. Whispers and howls echo across the mass of overgrowth, but you stick to the path as every worried mother and father cautions. For others, you navigate the treacherous woods themselves, unphased by the superstitious tales told about the dangers within. And yet some may call the secluded town home, choosing to fight for their friends, family and precious sanctuary.
As if by fate, you have all arrived on the same day. The fields on the eastern acreage are of absent of workers. The streets remain a smooth and muddy mess from the previous night’s rain, undisturbed by the usual stampede of a day’s busy townsfolk. Windows are shuddered closed and smoke plumes out of nearly every chimney, a sign of the fear that halts them from leaving the safety of their hearth. A crowd of worried widows is gathered outside the Huntsman’s Howl, where warm air escapes through the front doors carrying the scent of ale and hot stew from the lonely tavern. The townspeople are quick to inform any new comers of a townhall meeting that is to take place before dusk, which will be sounded by churchbells. In the meantime, the tavern, townhall, general store and church of Erastil are a few of the establishments who haven’t completely boarded up.
Please take this time introduce your character. I’ve got some questions for you that I’ll post in the discussion thread to hopefully place some of your character’s better as well as a WIP map of Sorrowmoor. Without further adieu, let the game begin!
I went through and wrote up some of the locations and events (link here). Feel free to go in and add to it. I'll be posting the start to gameplay tomorrow. Still waiting on Duglin.
Opening discussion. Feel free to introduce yourselves. I'm going to try and compile an outline of the various events/places you guys have created and post them here to work out some details as fluff.
Recruits
--------------------------------
Athanasius of House Liriedir by ambnz
Ian Black by Zayne Iwatani
Duglin Braehammer by wanderer82
Pfflÿs by Valjoen_KC
This was really tough and a lot of great submissions. Best of luck to all. Discussion thread will be up shortly, as well as gameplay for dotting.
@Izussavar I'm okay with that. There are also these rules if you wanted to go all out. Essentially reflavor an existing bit of equipment that meets the default proficiencies to be constructed of a primitive material.
Haha I feel bad as I'm not of a min maxer so I try and go for what sounds most appropriate, so hopefully I'm not a handicap :P
I picture Guruka's place in the regiment to be rather business and mission focused. She doesn't really respect those that are foolhardy and boastful, rather preferring those who let their actions do the talking. Everything is black and white to her. She is very rational, as rational as an orc can be, letting her emotions take over only when she sees her kin in chains to each other.
Going based off the recruitment prompts, Guruaka would have a lot of respect Vorhag for his decisive leadership and ability to command. She would respect and seek friendship with Twiceborn, knowing the hurdles she would have had to rise across. I think she would almost pity Shattertooth for being molded into something outside his true feral nature. Grung would be the only one she might not like due to the way he carries himself on the battlefield. That type of reckless taunting is what gets people killed. Gorthug and Karuum are reliable companions that he has know qualms with.
Athanasius of House Liriedir Elven Magus by ambnz
Pfflÿs Gnome Oracle by Valjoen_KC
Ian Black Skinwalker Inquisitor by Zayne Iwatani
Duglin Braehammer Dwarf Fighter by wanderer82
It looks like there's a few other with character ideas still out, so I think I'll post selections Monday morning (eastern timer for me).
People who proposed a character concept, and not just rolls:
Choon Elf Medium
Peet Nagaji Oracle
Rorek55 Monk/Occultist/Kineticist.
@Choon Oof, that always sucks. I've gotten in the habit now of doing large write-ups in google docs.
@DuglinCrafting is fine. I'd like to put 4 weeks worth of work as a constraint though, to reflect that you'd presumably be working on them in your spare time over a long period of time. Given your craft skill, taking 10's should be pretty fruitful. Also, glad your enjoying it. Just read what you have and it's very cool.
I would say it's safer than rumors and superstition would let on. However strange events like whats occuring currently have to know to take place in the past. But perhaps common tragedies happen for reasons a little more supernatural and nefarious than the town is willing to admit.
So after some dialogue with Peet, he's swayed me to open up to broader race options. Having been a lifetime DM, I've not experienced the racial burnout of the classic Tolkein races that many others here may have. Additionally, it opens up for some more world building options to work with the other races, so I'd like to open it up to the other Paizo player races. If you've submitted a character and want to adjust, feel free. I apologize if you've already sunk some time in to a character, hopefully it work out in your favor though!
@Peet I sent you a PM. The map is my own, made with Inkarnate.
@Master Han Del I imagine feudalism largely dominates the realms. But I'd also turn that question back on you :P. The picture I had in mind, but not stone, was Morningport as the large royal city, Firstdawn, Garren's Folly and Sorrowmoor provide goods and services, and Frostfall is a larger city owned by a Lord serving Morningport and provides military, money and goods to Morningport.
Some additional information:
The time of year is currently fall.
The region of Ilderan is similar to Norway in landscape and climate.
My intention with core races only was to clearly evoke the theme that non-core races are truly uncommon or vilified. That's not to say you couldn't come up with an awesome character story that makes your character stand out from the norm, but I wanted to keep it out of the party to really give it a foreign feel.
@rorek I havent, that's pretty cool. I'd love to do something like that with a group but probably not here. Although it does get me thinking if this gets going and people are inclined to make their own Inkarnate map, i could try to stitch it together.
“Sorrowmoor? Of course I’ve heard of it. A bunch of cursed inbreds if you ask me. You couldn’t pay me enough to stay the night there.”
-Tavern patron
The small village of Sorrowmoor rests deep within the haunting shadows of the Hagswood. Its citizens are quiet and resolute - as one tends to be in such a harrowing place. The woods breed many dangers, and with them, many treasures. Sorrowmoor subsists on the earnings brought in through the trade of their highly sought after truffles and the rare herbs that grow in the fertile soil of the surrounding woods. Otherwise, Sorrowmoor is entirely self sufficient with its communal fields and skilled hunters and gatherers. Through faith, they find solace in their mundane lifestyle as many are devout followers of Erastil.
Sorrowmoor has never known conflict beyond on the threat of the wilds, and as such, has no army or militia of their own, only the local hunters and trappers who roam the woods. Which is why the recent events have set the town on edge with no one to protect them - a mysterious fog rolls in through the forest and into the town each night, and anyone found outside the safety of their homes when it comes is never seen or heard from again. People claim to see hideous shadowy forms creep the shrouded streets. To make matters worse, several of the villagers have fallen gravely ill - some fatally so. The mayor of Sorrowmoor, Coleman Ebonheart, has sent for aid to the neighboring towns hoping to find a cure for the illness and to put an end to the disappearances.
Region Map
This will be a grim homebrew adventure in which I hope to find 4 creative players to help collaborate and build the world together in a shared experience. I am looking for creative people with the initiative to stake their claim in this world and call it their own. Need a city that matches your character’s backstory? Then make one! Name it, place it, and breath life into it if you feel so inclined. Was there a well known historical event that shaped your upbringing? Let’s hear it! There are a few things that I will pull from Golarion for the sake of manageability and approachability, and that is the races, classes and deities. Everything else, however, will be born anew. There are no radical changes to how magic operates, no big racial twists where orcs are the benevolent saviors of all. Simply a new geography with a new atmosphere. That being said, I aim to paint this world as a very grim and hostile place in which society is often the only sanctuary, and even then, I’d hardly call it safe.
Posting:
My request is that everyone do their best to commit to once a day. I feel that is a necessary frequency in order to keep it at the forefront of the mind and to avoid stagnation. Foreseeable absences should be communicated so that I can step in and take the reigns in your absence, and I will hold myself to the same standard. If you have nothing critical to say, at least post some inner monologue. Describe how your character is bored and waiting. Just as a check-in so I know everyone is all there and ready to go.
Crunchy Bits:
Combat and mapping will be handled on google draw. I will post a link to a map with edit permissions so that you can move your character as necessary. (Sample)
Often, I will post critical information at the start of combat about the combatants to allow you to take control of the narrative - namely HP and AC. This way, as you are constructing your response, you can preview your die rolls and finish the narrative of your turn and not await me to reveal if you hit and killed the creature. Obviously, this could lead to metagaming, but if I can’t trust my players to be honest, then what’s the point?
Initiative will be handled in order of posting (still limited to one turn a round), starting with players and ending with enemies. I do this to keep the flow going so people are waiting on others as little as possible.
Rolls:
I will provide available skill checks in spoilers that you may participate in if it is fitting and applicable. If there is something you wish to do or are unsure of, ask and make the roll. If ever an action gets to me and no roll was made, I will make it for you. This is simply to keep the ball rolling. For instance, if you ask if you could use a nature check to determine the origin of the stains on a travelers pants and don’t provide a roll, I will make the roll for you in my response and provide any relevant information. This goes for combat as well. My goal is to avoid a “question -> response -> roll” sequence and instead cut straight to “question (roll) -> response” or “question -> (roll) response”. Similarly, I will not always ask you for a roll, I will make it for you. This could include a situation where you make the decision to kick open the ornate chest without trap checking and a gout of flames come pouring out, I will roll your DEX save for you in my response.
If you are still interested, then I encourage you to read Painlord's guide if you haven’t already (at least the part #1 on pushing and hooking) as I find it very level-setting and full of great information. And without further ado:
Character Creation:
Starting Level: 1
Races: Core races only.
Classes: All paizo classes.
Traits: 2 traits, 1 drawback.
Ability Scores: Roll 4d6 drop the lowest or 15 point buy. For buy: minimum score of 7, max of 16.
HP: Max first level, 1/2HD+1 thereafter.
Starting Wealth: Average.
Backstory: Please provide a brief backstory of your character. I’m not necessarily looking for a novel, just something rich, evocative and fun to work with. Ebonheart sent for aid to Morningport and Frostfall, but villagers have been fleeing on the main roads and spreading word of what’s been happening to all nearby settlements. Hermits and outlanders would be aware of something going on in the woods.
