"In the world of Azura'gareth, there exists, to the farest of norths, a small island with frozen oceans on all sides. Only the most well-crafted of ice-crushing ships can pass through without issue. Even then, they can't make it all the way through, and as a result, people must make the "Walk to Bendt" which proves unnaturally cold and fantastically treacherous to outsiders.
From Bendt, and after you cross the great bridge, stands Dracula's age-old castle, which often remains stalwart against those that would go through it's doors. However, the belmonts are moving, and as are characters in the shadows. The small island of Bendt is uneasy, and there's been word that people have seen folks moving in and outside of the enormous castle. Some returned with glittering gold, and others insane. You? Well, you're on the boat there.
Perhaps you heard of the Belmonts making their way to the isle, and also knew that this is where Castle Dracula laid dormant. Perhaps you knew that it's only once every 300 years that the castle-esque artifact opened to strangers as Dracula attempted to burst forth and reclaim the island and his terrible rule? What purpose do you have to come to the castle and raid it? Do you want to join the ranks of the Belmonts, or gain his lordships dark power? I guess we'll find out soon."
Race In the world of Azura'gareth, there is only one race, and that is unfortunately human, however, they are a malleable, fantastical race that varies greatly.
Using the Advanced race, the Human's of Azura'gareth base race looks like this:
Skilled Treat every class as though they gave 1 additional skill point per level. You may also make one skill a class skill, even if that class doesn't usually get it.
Flexible Bonus Feat In addition to whatever your classes give you at first level, you gain 1 more feat for free, but must meet the requirements for it.
Focused Study At 1st, 8th, and 16th level, this race gets skill focus as a bonus feat for free.
Variant Human Instead of gaining a single random +2 to any ability score, A human from Azura'gareth gets a +2 to both a physical and mental score, and may place a -2 wherever they please, even into one of the other 2 scores to break even.
Classes Anything is allowed, except Summoners and Gunslingers. People come from all over the world for this event, and while most die on the shores, the differences are still very very present.
Character Creation - All characters must be the mentioned race, begin at level 5 with the suggested wealth for that level. The only strict rule I place on wealth allocation is that you may spend no more than 40% of your starting gold on any one item.
Rolling Stats - Roll 7 sets of 4d6, and remove the lowest. Re-roll all 1's. Re-roll any stat entirely that is less than 7, even the 7th removed set.
I'll answer any questions you have beyond this, and help suggest things that you're considering.
Maps will be handled through the creation process of DD3, and then placed on Google Docs for people to move their character's icons around. (Preferably your character's Icon on these forums) and Initiative will be handled properly by myself at the start of combat to avoid cheating.
Gameplay The Vast Majority of the campaign will take place within the Castle itself, and along it's bridge. Generally speaking you may need to venture into the nearby forest, talk around town, or what have you, but the vast majority is a dungeon dive throughout the massive castle. All of the grids will be 5 feet squares on inch grid, and easy to work around.
With regards to that, Endoral, what are you making? And I ban summoner on account of Synthesists, and other silly size-category abuse.
Just be aware there's also a recruitment chat going with this as well.
The boat has just left the mainland, where it was cold to say the least. It is the middle of winter, and everyone boarding the Black Kraken knows that their futures are looking grim, to say the least. Some board with hope, and some with an eerie sense of confidence. A dark cloud hangs over the port as people finish boarding, and the sea is upset, to say the least.
Rain quickly begins to fall and the cold quickly encapsulates the vessel as it surges forward. Men in full furs outside quickly begin to remove the fast-forming ice on the deck with shovels and their hands. A Sorcerer of sorts, a bulky man, walks around warming the ice with prestidigitation and preventing it.
Inside, the rest of you sit in the slowly dropping warmth of the ship in various rooms. A hall beneath the top floor where most of you are is full of chairs, and a latrine, where some poor sod can't help but vacate his meal in nervousness. Eventually, the cold gets to the core of the ship and breathe becomes visible. This is only the beginning of the trip to Castle Dracula, and everyone seems painfully aware of that.
wouldn't you know it. Leave it to a bloody vampire to put his bloody eternal castle in the middle of eternal winter...
A man wearing chain armor over leather stands in a corner, his face covered by the hood of his cowl two gleaming blades glint red in the dim light sheathed at his hips. A bow is strung over his back. His eyes peirce the darkness hmph, half the people here know not where they go. Over half will die, if not from the cold the things that make it their home...
Damon casts endure elements then pulls his cloack about him tighter before going above deck.
is there anything I can do to speed up this journey?
Stepping onto the top deck of the boat mid sentence is a trial in and of itself as the ship's speed against the cold wind easily brings the temperature almost below -40 degrees. The cold is brutal and spittle turns to ice in facial hair at just the thought of it.
The Ship occasionally hits a sheet of ice every now and again and the whole vessel nudges into the sky a little at every tip. The water too, is frustrating in it's unruliness. As Damon proceeds outside of the ship the overall roughness of the water sees fit to splash him quite drastically. Fortunately his spell is enough to shake off whatever that may have done.
The sound of yelling is prominent as you open the door to the above deck, and the door practically freezes in place as you open it and leave it set as the water quickly chills. Multiple men roam the deck with one particularly large burly man walking around in charge with a wand on him. Turning to look at you, he is a gruff northerner with a thick beard at 6' tall exactly and no hair. He has a hood on, however, and he points at you before yelling. "If you don't wanna do some work while you're up here, go back down into the halls!"
Dmitri sits in a corner. He had been meditating until only moments ago when a lurching of the ship had brought him back to the present. His dark fur cloak helps to keep him warm and also hide most of his features. His uncommonly long and black hair escapes the hood and can be seen. His dark eyes look around, taking in the people here again. One of them casts some sort of spell and heads above deck, Dmitri eyes him strangely, Does he want to die so soon? Let the sailors get us there. Impatience will be the death of that one. He focuses on keeping warm and watching the others, looking for those that might make particularly good allies once at the mansion.
In the immediate room, there are 3 particular people that stand out to view (Outside of the other pre-gamers) One particularly armored man who stands at 5'6, who seems clean shaven. His armor is furred beneath the plates, and he seems awfully encumbered. The other man is one with brown hair and a gruff beard, as well as a ponytail with a longsword at his hip that doesn't seem too terribly bothered by the cold in a breastplate. Various necklaces dangle about his neck, and about 4 rings line the man's wrists each.
Finally, the oddball, is the man wearing a white mask with red hair, with green streaks, standing about with an oddly court-jester like appearance. On his hip is a club, but he seems to be in deep thought with his arms crossed and his back against the wall. His lack of clothing disturbs you, if only because the creeping chill is easily making it's way to your skin by now.
Damon Eyes the water and the skies, at least what he can see of them. Attempting to aid the crew in avoiding the worst of the rains and swells.
He offers a course to the man who spoke to him.
Perhaps if you haven't seen this way may take us clear of the worst of the storm, and not lose us much time. If you have anything that needs doing, let me know. A body in motion stays warmer longer.
Damon knows that the storm is wildly unnatural. Clouds dart in hodgepodge directions and the reasons are all on the wind. That is, to say, you have no clue. Generally speaking the ship seems to be going in the right direction, and steering off course would actually hurt time.
The man shakes his head. "I'm not changing directions just because of some know-it-all upstart. All we're focused on doing is keeping the ice off the ship so the engines keep going! Simple as that!"
Damon shrugs. You're the salty man here, not me. Twas merely inputting my thoughts, sir , I shall do my best to keep the storm from ravaging your ship.
Damon knew he shouldn't test a captain, indeed any man brave enough to test these waters everyday was worthy of respect, but he didn't like being blown off. Either way he heads off, figuring if nothing else a little work would pass the time. He keeps to the inner parts of the ship, not wanting to even risk going over the railing.
With the storm raging ever harder all of the unnecessary persons have descended in the relative safety of the ships bowels. However, a few linger on the deck for whatever purpose. One man has a short exchange with the captain of the vessel before heading below deck. Meanwhile, near the bow of the ship, stands a solitary figure gazing out at the raging tides. This strange scene continues for only a minute before he too retreats to the depths, following closely behind Damon Van Brandt.
Once under the deck he stops for a second to seize up the scene. Spying a seat he drags his massive frame across the wooden floor, armor rattling noisily with each step and a large sword rested against his shoulder. His intended table currently has only one other occupant: a stoic man wrapped in thick furs with inquisitive eyes.
Doppel arrives at the table and sets himself into a chair, the poor wooden frame groaning under his immense girth. The sudden shift causes the ice that had formed across the surface of his armor to dislodge and fall to the floor. He gives a quick nod to the other traveler before returning to a quiet rest.
Dmitri gets up and moves towards the oddball with the dangerous lack of clothing. "Do you not fear the frostbite man? If you have somehow come to be allies with the frost I would ask that you might show me how also." He says with a smile, "It would be a great boon where we are going."
The man chuckles heartily after you ask the question behind the mask. "Endure Elements goes a long way, don't you know? Being blessed as a Sorcerer in these parts'll get you through the fjords and the snowdrifts without much issue. A little chilly, sure, but no harm done." he points out. "If you wanna head up on the deck, I could always give you a zap, if ya want." he points out, pointing a wand at you.
Cain works the deck of the ship with a shovel, breaking up ice and tossing it overboard.
Boring work, but atleast the hardship of the cold kept him focused on the battles to come.
So far everyone has managed to stave off the cold without issue, but be warned, prolonged exposure does make it more difficult to stay warm, and you will eventually fail and gain frostbite. Those wearing cold weather equipment must make a check every hour, but those who are not must make one every 10 minutes.
"Ah a sorcerer." He waves away the offer of a 'zap', not wanting to be in anyone's debt so soon, "Perhaps later when we must walk. I prefer to let the sailors do their job and stay out of their way. My preparations against the weather extend only to these mundane furs. There are things more deadly than the cold where we are going. I hope you have some spells for those also. Many fools come here looking for riches and in their greed forgetting the dangerous guardians protecting it." Dimitri smiles, clearly not insinuating that this man is one such fool. He has some respect for sorcerers over most other magical practitioners. Keep this one close if possible, could be a valuable ally when it comes to keeping our heads on our shoulders."
"Likewise." he says with a tilt of the head. "I don't do much fighting, honestly. My expertise lies elsewhere, really." he says, looking up for a moment and breathing out a sigh. He whispers something beneath his breath and drops a paper on the ground from some space on his other side. Suddenly on the ground the map is picked up off the ground and opened up, and he points out a spot on the mainland. "Personally I'm from the far east on the main continent. What brings you here, exactly? I'm here for the riches. I've heard some interesting things about the castle..." he claims as he holds the wand lazily to his side.
Eventually Cain grows tired of his battle with the cold and heads below deck.
There were others fighters here on the ship, maybe one of them would be willing to cross weapons to get the blood pumping.
The door to the below deck crashes open as Cain comes barreling through it, the thrill of combat already in his veins. The cold air whips through the rooms below.
Slamming the door back shut, Cain scans the room for would be combatants but is dissappointed at once. None among these men are my equal in combat.
Looking to the other men he scoffs and heads to a spot to sit down and curses under his breath for this trip to take so long.
"Secrets, artifacts, hidden knowledge, items of power that, in the wrong hands, could spell bad things for the people of this world. I am no king, nor do I wish to be. Merely a guardian doing his duty. Too many dark things in this world, to remove some of them would be worth more than all the gold I could possible carry." He studies the map and points out a part in the south-west where he came from. "My travels take me everywhere, but I grew up in a small village there. Bit of a backwards place though. I don't recommend visiting."
"Yes, I heard there are traps that keep you alive for days, draining your blood to feed some monster or other."
Damon enters to overhere the conversation
Far worse fates than that await those who carelessly wander to this place for naught but gold. Have you ever seen someone get caught by the undead? had a vampire rip out your friends heart infront of you? Ever killed one? But I agree on one point. Remove the creatures of the night we must.
Damon asks no one and everyone in particular. His face still masked under his hooded cowl.
The masked man chuckles at the two of them in his strange laugh. "I've handled my share of undead, really. Not focused on them as you two may have, but definitely beaten my share, yeah. Though primarily speaking that's due in part to them having valuables around their necks." he says, twirling his finger. Grabbing the map and putting it back in place, he looks towards the group and then tilts his head again.
"Colorful crowd, yeah?" he asks.
The rest of the group remains particularly quiet, save for the brown haired man with a ponytail who visually scoffs and relaxes against his wall.
Leaning in close, the masked man whispers among them. "On your toes, folks. That's a Belmont. I kind of know the look at this point..." he says.
The man in furs leaves the table to go strike up a conversation with some other traveler, one interesting enough that it draws in some of the other warriors. They spoke of death: the death of comrades, the death of friends. Doppel continues to sit in silence.
Looking to the other men he scoffs and heads to a spot to sit down and curses under his breath for this trip to take so long.
Suddenly another person comes barreling into the below-deck. Despite the brittle cold this new face is alight with fiery passion. He walks briskly to the empty table next to Doppel's and takes a seat. In response the Landsknetch nods to the newcomer but otherwise remains silent.
Elbowing Damon, the sorcerer asks another question as he walks over towards the lumbering new arrival after looking at the Belmont for a moment. "More for the chopping block, then?"
Dopple shifts in his seat to face the boisterous sorcerer. Strangely enough, both men wore masks that hid their features. The sorcerer's had a muted white tone and was otherwise smooth. Conversely the Landsknetch's look to be hewn from rough stone with vaguely recognizable human characteristics.
Dopple's voice emerges from beneath his mask, addressing the sorcerer in an emotionless monotone. "You do not count yourself among them?" he queries.
"What's their deal? They started this. Any idea why they come this way now?" Dmitri asks.
The masked man turns to the rest of the group and shrugs. "Likely to fix their mistake? Or keep it at bay? Who knows?" he asks. Turning more towards the other masked individual he tilts his head and answers with; "Fortunately no. If I've anything to say on the matter I won't be progressing too deeply into the castle if I can help it. Just enough to set up shop." With that he piddles with his necklace a bit.
Damon regards the man that nudged him. He finally pulls back the cloak's hood.
I'd rather you not touch me. But yes, most likely.
He then regards the Belmont.
of the belmonts eh? Didn't your family cause all of this? What are you going there for?
this man's family is said to have been the cause of so much death and destruction.. they're no better than the things I hunt if that is the case.
The man gives you a quick look, but simply closes his eyes. It's about this time you realize a Whip is on his right side carefully compacted with an oddly lengthy hip. He just seems to sigh and ignore the question however as he dances a holy symbol between his fingers. You can't immediately be sure which deity it's for, however.
The Landsknetch simply let's out a long sigh and settles back into his seat, content to watch this new conversation between the supposed Belmont and a few others.
Damon's nose flares at being ignored.
easy there, keep it cool.
Very well then Damon gives a sniff only his training from Davin keeps him from smart mouthing off the man. He then thinks of his own symbol the Hunters gave to him.
hmph, I follow any deity that has the same ideals as me. why bother with just one in particular. None of them really care.
He turns towards the others then speaks to the masked man
You, you said something about setting up shop? Are you a merchant? come, let us sit and talk of things we have seen. It should do well to pass the time. Tell me, what brings you all to this dark place?
He tries not to worry about the Belmont, or the danger ahead, the happy youth he was merely years ago coming to the front. A true smile on his face. But he couldn't help but cast another glance towards the silent man in the corner.
Shop indeed, yes." he points out. "I'm from the east, as I mentioned. It's yet to have been given a name, but the Merchant's guild recently rested a tyrant from the land, and has saw fit to make it's money using adventurers like myself, and everyone here, really." he says, waving his arm around the room.
"Generally speaking, I've not seen much. The scariest thing I've laid eyes on was something called a huecava, but it turns out only being a head with a few organs doesn't matter if magic missiles are involved. Then again, it did kill my traveling companion at the time..." he says. "But that was the contract. I made more money, so I can't complain." he says with a shrug.
"The wares my home city will be letting you browse through will increase in worth as we trade, but, that's assuming you lot make it to the castle." he says with a chuckle mid sentence.
Doppel took his turn now to address the the Belmont, turning in his chair again to make eye contact.
"What is your name Sir Belmont?"
"If it please you, folks, I'll settle for Belmont. If it also please you, I'd prefer to keep to my meditating. We've a long, dark trial ahead of us, and you'd do well to steel yourselves." he says, not looking up from his necklace piece as he diddles it between his fingers more.
The Landsknetch shrugs off the cold reception "A Belmont indeed, always so stubborn."
He turns back to his own thoughts. Belmont? How many is that now?
"Can't say that I have come across those beings before but I am no stranger to undead." He says while in thought, "Perhaps you are one of the smart ones, letting others do your work for you. I find no honour in that for myself, but it takes all types to survive this world." He stops for a few moments thinking.
"I believe it would serve you more to assist some of those going in to better insure that wealth comes out. Call it an investment if you will. Perhaps an extra wand or two that you might spare? If I find something worth selling I will surely trade with you first."
"I agree, though you'd do well to work on your tongue. Far less silver than it takes to make weights move, I assure you. That aside, I've yet to pick a place. The wares are never on my person, rather; they're provided by my guild. You'll see all in due time but, till then, I believe I shall retire, no?" he says with a yawn. "It's late in the day. The lot of you would do well to rest for the night." he points out as he heads towards one of the many doors within the hall that lead to bedrooms.
He turns on a heel holding up a finger. Ah, another thing I must mention! No... no that can wait. Good night, fellows." And as he closes the door, you can hear him whisper something to himself before locking the door.
Now why does he do that, does he consider us animals?
Well some of these men here might be, some are muscular and not quite shaven. But the Belmont, i'll have to be careful with, known hunters of undead after all. Hmm, then again, if he ever ends up dead i could have some use for him still.
The brunette had been in a shadowy spot in the room, staying away from drawing too much attention. The men were too embroiled in their own adventurous discussion to seem to notice her.
She wasn't overly dressed, a tiara on her head and a dark purple mantle underneath her winter cloak.
hmph why do you magic your doors shut merchant? Do you feel you are in less that amiable company? That those here would steal from you? Or that others here could not aid you if a thing were to happen?
Damon takes a slight offense to something that most likely has nothing to do with him. His bad mood from the weather and his fathers condition returning with it.
I have a feeling should anyone here wish to get in, it wouldn't really stop them anyway.
He adds before turning back to the others.
Damon eyes Belmont, still unsure of what to make of him. Then speaks to the others.
So, what brings you all this way? What tales have drawn you to the land of evil?
The third man in the room ups and speaks finally, slamming down an ale. He's unfortunately very drunk, and his words are a bit garbled, but despite that, he seems pretty content. "Ta' kill me daft bastard brotha! Tha's why! And bah! Don't worry about tha merchant fella. You lot are probably just's unsavory as he is, and he's taken tha' propah precautions so his gold ain't getting stole, right?" he says practically stumbling in his chair.
The man is actually quite the mountain of metal. A large Tower shield sits on his back, and he's bedecked in full plate. The only reason you can see his face is because his visor is up just so he can drink. The metal seems rather thick, as well. A bastard sword clinks around beneath his shield as he turns to point at Damon. "Wish we'd done that, really. Maybe then I would'nae have to go all tha' way out 'ere to get what he stole back. Stupid bastard..." he says with a grumble.
heh, you'll show him for making a fool of you won't ya? But doesn't that armor get cold? Or are you protected magically? And I still feel like that magic won't save him if someone truly wanted what he has.
Damon takes a sip from his slushie water.
and do tell what it was he stole?
for the love all god, please don't say your favorite drinking mug...
Lizzy lets out a small chuckle, potentially drawing a slight glance into her shadowed corner.
"Money won't do him good if he ends up dead. If he does, you still get your chance at the money right?"
She steps out of the shadowy corner. A circlet on her forehead, the young brunette eminates some air of reserve.
"If this venture doesn't get the one aiming for his gold killed first, dangerous lands after all."
Dimitri regards the armoured drunkard with interest but says nothing. A perfect meat shield if I ever saw one.
The one that rushed out who he now referred to as the impatient one tried to make conversation with the mountain but Dimitri's focus was drawn elsewhere when he was surprised to see a girl move out of her corner. "And what is your aim girl? Perhaps you should go back to your mama's skirt. This is certainly no place for children."
She parries with a sharp tongue.
"What's it to you, and who you're calling a child, what you just said is a line children yell at each other. Or is it you are afraid of women, that you wish me gone?"
The Landsknetch adds his own monotone words to the current cacophony of voices speaking over each other. He locks his vision on the young woman but addresses Dmitri:
"For one so young so to make it this far...Are you jealous of her talent?"