If anyone's interested in joining or observing a play-by-post beta PF playtest, one is presently accepting applicants for a homebrew game world on this website.
Introduction:
Whispers echoed throughout the vast, marble-lined chamber, resounding from the ornate, arched ceilings above down the long adjoining galleries with dull roar. Like a vast, indoor amphitheater the room circled in multiple depressed tiers down about a central dais. Packed into sumptuous chairs arrayed upon every wood-paneled tier, a profusion of diverse humanoid creatures raised limbs in raucous vote as their leaders argued below. Seated with others upon the dais, beneath the glittering star-like globes of magical light, a cowled figure was trying to speak above the din.
Incomprehensible grunting noises emanated from the hooded Inre representative, in dissonant counterpoint to the childish, high-pitched voice originating with the wooden staff at its side. ”We concur. We have none capable of facing magic of this magnitude.” The venerable, snowy-haired human nearby insisted: “And we are sure there are none who could persuade the Velerians to join us?” Shrieking, rapid-fire laughter burst out from the female drow ambassador, drawing alarmed and suspicious glances from her neighbors. Her silky, dangerous voice was filled with bitter accusation. ”You expect responsibility from our degenerate cousins? You think they have a shred of power that we lack? We are better served without them.” Upon the high-seated chair at her shoulder, the gnome functionary raised a hand, placatingly. ”They have already made their decision. In any event, the Matron’s assessment of their relative strength is, unfortunately, accurate.”
As the counting finished, a dull gong reverberated through the hall, silencing discussion. The voice of a balding, human consul rang out above the crowd. “The motion passes. We shall reassemble in one month’s time with what champions we can muster and what resources we may provide them. Military defenses and troop allocations will be decided at that time. Until then, hold fast, all of you!”
Proud words, perhaps. From a voice that did not yet know of that far away town which perished in the night. Where peasants cowered in beds and pallets, listening to the agonized shrieks of neighbors dying horribly nearby. Listened to the horrible silence, where in a more comprehensible world might be detected the harsh cacophony of struggle with raiders or fell beasts. None were left to bear witness to that silent dawn, rising golden and heedless over the mute husk of pristine buildings and empty streets. A town whose residents had vanished like a dream in the night.
