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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Tales from a Dungeon


Falcon2001

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Alright, ladies and gentlemen, it's time to start actual recruitment. Here's the way things will go.

 

1: You go to www.d20srd.org and look around at the classes and races to see what sort of character you want to be playing. This part of the process is purely story-based. I want you to see what you want to play as, then give me a basic character overview and description. Worry about the mechanics of this later, as long as you're not producing a character who is the champion of all that is good, etc etc. Exercise restraint, I'd rather have 1 well thought out, normal character than 10 who are apparently demigods in the realms of man.

 

<--Example Begins!-->

 

Name: Celion Cartheye

Concept: Traveling Cleric

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Eyes: Blue

Hair: Brown

Height: 6'8"

Weight: 270 lbs

 

Bio: Celion was born into a middle-class family of carpenters and masons, where strength was of much importance. Since the founding of their house, the Cartheye Giants have had a reputation for excellent work morale, and a selflessness and gentleness that belies their huge size.

 

At a young age, Celion was walking through his hometown when a house burst into flames. Ignoring the protests of the onlookers, he rushed into the house, looking for any survivors. He went in three times, rescuing the mother, husband and child each seperate time, then collapsing of exhaustion outside the square.

 

When he awoke, he found himself lying in a hospital bed, with a cleric of Heironeous standing over him. As he was healed by the cleric, he heard the voice of Heironeous call to him, and at that moment, he decided to dedicate himself to the protection of the weak and the defense of good.

 

He seems almost old-fashioned at times, very loud and boisterous at times but always extremely polite. He is much less lawful than Heironeous normally calls for, but is conistently in the service of good. He is currently traveling, looking for a chance to champion the cause of good.

 

<---This is where the example is ending--->

 

I'll stress this again - worry about your stats and such later.

 

Alright, have fun! There will be a maximum of six participants, and less if I deem it necessary. Be aware that if I get 8 druids, and you submitted one of them, your druid better be the coolest druid to ever dru. However, if I get a cleric with a slightly weaker backstory than I wanted, but it's the only cleric or healer, it'll get in. If there are any questions, contact me via instant messenger (it's in my profile) or via IRC. If you message me, I will message you back, even if it's not immediate.

 

I promise right now that I will pick solely based on my own selfish opinions and nobody elses. I reserve the right to randomly pick people based on dice, phases of the moon, my blood pressure, or a algorithm combining all three or other factors yet undisclosed.

 

 

 

 

Gods of Dungeons and Dragons
Name Domains Rank Align Favored Weapon Portfolio
Bahamut Air, Good, Luck, Protection L LG Claw Good Dragons, Wind
Boccob Knowledge, Magic, Trickery G N Quarterstaff Magic,Arcane Knowledge, Foresight, Balance
Corellon Larethian Chaos, Good, Protection, War G CG Longsword Elves, Magic, Arts and Crafts, Music, War
Ehlonna Animal, Good, Plant, Sun I NG Longsword Forests, Woodlands, Flora and Fauna, Fertility
Erythnul Chaos, Evil, Trickery, War I CE Morningstar Hate, Envy, Malice, Panic, Ugliness, Slaughter
Fharlanghn Luck, Protection, Travel I N Quarterstaff Horizons, Distance, Travel, Roads
Garl Glittergold Good, Protection, Trickery G NG Battleaxe Gnomes, Humor, Wit, Illusion, Gemcutting, Jewelrymaking
Gruumsh Chaos, Evil, Strength, War G CE Spear Orcs, War, Territory
Heironeous Good, Law, War I LG Longsword Valor, Chivalry, Justice, Honor, War, Daring
Hextor Destruction, Evil, Law, War I LE Flail Tyranny, Wary, Discord, Massacres, Conflict, Fitness
Kord Chaos, Good, Luck, Strength I CG Greatsword Strength, Athletics, Sports, Brawling, Courage
Kurtulmak Evil, Law, Luck, Trickery I LE Spear Kobolds, Trapmaking, Mining, War
Lolth Chaos, Destruction, Evil, Trickery I CE Whip Drow, Spiders, Evil, Darkness
Moradin Earth, Good, Law, Protection G LG Warhammer Dwarves, Creation, Smithing, Engineering, War
Nerull Death, Evil, Trickery G NE Scythe Death, Darkness, Murder, Underworld
Obad-Hai Air, Animal, Earth, Fire, Plant, Water I N Quarterstaff Nature, Woodlands, Freedom, Hunting, Beasts
Olidammara Chaos, Luck, Trickery I CN Rapier Rogues, Music, Revelry, Wine, Humor, Tricks
Pelor Good, Healing, Protection, Strength I LN Mace Sun, Light, Strength, Healing
St. Cuthbert Destruction, Law, Protection, Strength I LN Mace Retribution, Common Sense, Wisdom, Zeal, Honesty, Truth, Discipline
Tiamat Destruction, Evil, Law, Trickery L LE Claw Evil Dragons, Conquest
Vecna Evil, Knowledge, Magic L NE Dagger Secrets, Intrigue
Wee Jas Death, Law, Magic I LN Dagger Death, Magic, Vanity, Law
Yondalla Good, Law, Protection G LG Short Sword Halflings, Protection, Fertility

 

Whew, alright. That was FAR too much work. Some quick notes on it.

 

Alignment - this reflects the alignment of the god. G = Good, E = Evil, N = Neutral, C = Chaotic, L = Lawful. Like so =

 

Alignment Map
Lawful Good
Neutral Good
Chaotic Good
Lawful Neutral
True Neutral
Chaotic Neutral
Lawful Evil
Neutral Evil
Chaotic Evil

 

Domains refer to the clerical domains, which are basically extra stuff for clerics only.

 

Rank is as follows - L = Lesser, I = Intermediate, G = Greater. This doesn't have much of an effect, really. Just tells you how powerful the god is and how widely known he is.

 

Favored Weapon applies mostly to clerics, again, but other followers of this God could easily be wielding it as well.

 

Portfolio is a description of all the cool things that they're in charge of. Gives you a good idea about the god.

 

Alright, those tables took like three hours. Darn you Yui and PHPBB.

Edited by Falcon2001
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Well, here's mine. Forgive me for the abrupt change/edit, but I swear this is the last change. I was suddenly inspired away from my cheap copy of the "roaming gnome" to something I'd remembered I thought up earlier. It just took the other half-orc person to trigger the memory. So I swear I'm not copying the half-orc race idea. Plus, we looked a bit short on pure fighting grunts.

 

Name: Rakan Stone (formerly "Snaarg the Weak")

Concept: Monk (the D&D monk, the unarmed fighting guy)

Race: Half-Orc

Gender: Male

Eyes: Red

Hair: Dark Brown

Height: 6'0"

Weight: 255 lbs

 

Bio: Rakan was born by a mother who was taken as war booty during a raid by a chief, thanks to her great beauty, and thus impregnated. She died nameless during the pregnancy, but the child survived and grew up in the clan, given the name of Snaarg. The members of the Blacktorch clan, as the clan was called, having long forgotten about where the kid came from, was disappointed at the fact that he was only half orc.

 

Rakan never really enjoyed all the bloodshed or the slaughter, and his already low social position went down further when he refused to slay an unarmed woman pleading for her life during a raid. He hesitated before pushing her away into the wilderness to run away, and was instantly beaten up by his comrades on the spot. From then on, they ostracized him and dubbed him "Snaarg the Weak".

 

After constant harassment and random punches flying his way, he decided to steal away and leave the tribe. After all, he wouldn't be missed. Before he could act, though, they actually kicked him out of their own accord, and their tender feelings for him only extended far enough to leave him his posessions and a token goodbye beating that left him limping.

 

Badly bruised, starving, rejected from village to village, he finally staggered into a small village of monks and collapsed into a feverish sleep. These people, seeing his condition, took him in and tended to his wounds. When he woke up in his right mind, his first words were, "Can I join you?"

 

They taught him everything he knows, along with the name of Rakan, and sent him on his way while telling him that he needed to go see the world and experience more before he could truly begin his spiritual quest.

Edited by Shathward
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Name: Oakleaf Melwasúl

Concept: Lazy Cleric of Boccob

Race: Elf

Gender: Male

Eyes: Black

Hair: Black

Height: 6' 5"

Weight: 137 lbs

 

Bio: Born and raised in the Elvish homeland of Lithellion to the north, many of the elves saw much potential in Oakleaf, and most were disappointed when he didn't seem to care about that potential. He would sit around all day, eating and reading, or just sleeping. Eventually the other elves told him to either start doing something, or just leave, since they couldn't keep everyone fed, and he was useless.

 

Oakleaf decided to leave, so he packed up his books, and started down the road. He had barely even crossed the border into human lands when he laid down for a nap. When Oakleaf awoke, everything he owned, except for his trousers, had been stolen. He stumbled into to town, hungry and half naked, looking for the nearest temple. He dragged himself into the temple and collapsed.

 

The priests fed him and took care of him until he was back to his full health. During that time, the priests realized his temperament was a lot like theirs, and so recruited him to be a priest of their god, Boccob the Uncaring.

 

He dislikes a vast majority of other elves, because he believes they exiled him. He also has a near addiction to peanut buttter and jelly sandwiches.

Edited by Degenero Angelus
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(Damn. I knew I sucked at making interesting characters. That one just walks all over mine.)

 

*EDIT: How on earth could I misspell "mine" as "mind"? I must be going senile at the age of twenty one.

Edited by Shathward
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Name: Donfyrda 'Doremi' Nonestitches

Concept: Failed Bard

Race: Gnome

Gender: Female

Eyes: Pale blue

Hair: Covered in soot

Height: 3'7"

Weight: 39 lbs.

 

The Nonestitches are a gnomish dynasty, which made its fortune on Great-great-great-and terrific-Uncle Dongopple's lunatic idea--making pants with metal rivets instead of sewing them together--that succeeded. Sales of riveted pants, known as Donnies throughout underground communities, have freed the younger members of the family from having to work for a living. Donfyrda's mother married a younger Nonestitches and passed to her daughter her own family's project, the all-in-one tinpan band with over-the-shoulder amplifier. 'Doremi' came from how many notes Donfyrda ever learned to play. . .Do. . .Re. . .Miiiiiiiiiiii *screeeeeeeeeeeeech*

 

She'll figure it out eventually, and become the conductor of the Tynpanphonic Philharmonic wandering bard orchestra! Until then, she wanders the world with a prototype slung over both shoulders and belted to her waist and ankles, and a ready sackful of rotten tomatoes to take the competition down a notch. (Double tomatoes for other gnome bards who don't use a Tynpanphonic instrument.) Tell her that she's really a lipstick fighter in designer Donnies with a hobby strapped to her back, and she'll try to poke you in the kidneys with her sharpened banner-pole. The banner reads "The Divine Donfyrda, Bard for Hire, (rates negotiable)" and the javelin sticks up from the top of her prototype while she walks down the road.

 

ooc: I love gnomes, but it is very difficult to type "gnome" after years of being Minta and saying "gnomie!"

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Sorry if this is a little lengthy, I guess I got carried away.

 

 

Name: Kalaric Andentia

Concept: Avenging Warrior

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Eyes: Brown

Hair: Redish Brown

Height: 6' 2"

Weight: 210

 

Bio:

The tale of Kalaric Andentia is a sad one, though as of yet incomplete. Born the second son of a peasant couple his was to be a life of back breaking work not adventure and glory. His carefree childhood was cut short when, at the age of five, his mother and older brother fell prey to a horrible wasting plague that spread like wildfire through the farming communities and poor towns of the land. Forced to aid his father in the fields, as well as tend to his younger sister Yalanna, he quickly learned to handle his own burdens without allowing them to fall to the shoulders of others.

 

For twelve years Kalaric toiled sunrise to sunset, and that arduous labor sculpted his body accordingly. At seventeen years of age he looked like a large man in his early twenties, and was faster and stronger then any man for fifteen leagues. It was these exact qualities that drew the King's Men to his doorstep when the time came for his father's house to fulfill its the oaths to Lord and land. Every household was called to surrender one able-bodied man to serve the King in his time of need, and Kalaric knew that it was he that must go, since his father had to take care of the farm and Yalanna. The King's Army is where he learned to handle a sword, and although he was only involved in a one major engagement and handful of small skirmishes, he managed to learn enough of war to know that he both loves and despises it. The rush of battle was almost intoxicating. While in the heat of combat Kalaric felt more alive then ever, but like a bad high, the come down was hell. He watched helpless as new friends and respected leaders were cut down like the autumn harvest. As a result of his experiences with war, he only resorts to violence as a last resort, all though he will not hesitate to draw blood if friends or innocents are in need.

 

Kalaric's homecoming should have been a joyous occasion, but it was not so. When he returned to his village he learned that brigands had taken advantage of the lack of a local military presence and raided many of the farms in the area. The villagers had found his father's body outside of the smoldering remains of their home, but his sister was nowhere to be found. After a time it became clear that she had been abducted by the bandits, presumably to be sold into slavery. With nothing left to anchor him to the only place he had ever called home, Kalaric set to wand

ering.

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Guess I got carried away also... :P

 

 

Name: Owly Thokkath

Concept: Mercenary Sorcerer

Race: half-orc

Gender: Male

Eyes: Hazel

Hair: Black

Height: 6' 10"

Weight: 240

 

Bio:

Denyla Greeneyes was a human druidess who cared more for the forest than the humans in her small village. Living in an isolated hut, she was once surrounded by wargs in killing frenzy. An Orc came in suddenly and saved her life, and since then Denyla was in absolute, passionate love with him. The truth is that Thokk (the Orc) saved Denyla by accident while he was setting a trap for other purposes, not caring at all about the wargs and the silly human druidess. As much as he tried, Thokk couldn't get rid of Denyla, who followed him everywhere and tried to make his life comfortable at all costs. Finally, Thokk figured that if he left her a child, she would find someone else to care for. Indeed, as soon as Owlie was born Thokk found himself quite forgotten, and disappeared swearing to put a ban on all the forest around that village and Denyla's hut.

 

Denyla had an owl familiar, and called her son Owly when his first cry sounded like the hooting of an owl. Owly grew up without knowing his father was an orc, and even the children of the village never suspected that. It was only when the orcish features and temperament became more apparent, on his adolescence, that the village Headmaster realized he was a half-orc.

 

Owly first got interested in magic when he was a child and a troupe of illusionists came to the village. After that, he insisted on learning all he could about his mother's magic, and together they discovered that there was some magic deep inside him. In the first opportunity, he convinced a wandering sorcerer to teach him. Unfortunately, he's not bright enough to learn the most powerful spells, but he has learned to use what he knows and the wisdom that came from her mother to succed in an adventurous career as a merc sorcerer.

 

Owly loves the Nature, a trait he got from his mother - he's unable to kill or mistreat any plant or animal unless it's unavoidable. He's boisterous, loud, and short-tempered, loving a good fight or bar brawl. He also loves singing, but unfortunately he's absolutely tone-deaf, and also deaf to the critiques and pleas to stop singing.

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Name: Tyndall Cade

Concept: Iconoclastic Wise-guy

Race: Half-elf

Gender: Male

Eyes: Blue

Hair: White

Height: 5'5''

Weight: 140 lbs.

 

Tyndall started life a bit differently than his other siblings. For one thing, it's a bit hard not to be noticed when you're the only kid in class that has pointed ears and snowy-white hair. For another, he grew up in a small village on the edge of an elven forest amidst a hotbed of inter-species tension. The kingdom to which this village belonged is long since gone, having encroached on the forest one time too many.

 

His mother raised Tyndall and his six siblings (Two other boys and four girls.) by herself. Tyndall, being the youngest, never knew his father; but his siblings told him many stories of an elven general whose army got a bit lost on the way to some war or other. They also never let him forget that *their* ears weren't pointy. Tyndall didn't grasp what that entailed until he grew up a bit, which is when he began wearing a headband to hide their tips from the general run of humanity.

 

For the most part, his young life was idyllic enough; if you discounted the childish teasing that is inevitable when one child is distinctly different from the others. Still, his generally affable nature made him well-liked; and when he was old enough to leave home, he went into religious training. For five years, Tyndall learned about the gods, as was fully expected to enter the clergy of Heironous.

 

Unfortunately, this did not happen.

 

The night before he was to take his orders Tyndall's father came for a visit, and he brought his army with him. The elves had heard of the general's indiscretions and were less than happy about it. To make amends, General Jerul Cade would have to erase the past.

 

Tyndall's village was burnt to the ground around him, even as he called to the gods for aid. General Cade took Tyndall hostage, and led him alone into a copse of trees. Tyndall was bound, gagged, and tied to an oak. His father stood opposite with a longbow pulled taught. He released the arrow, and Tyndall squeezed his eyes shut. A moment later, his bonds were cut, and he fell to the ground. There was a long cut along one cheek, and the arrow stuck out of the tree, still shiverring.

 

His father, and the rest of the elven army, had gone as quickly as they had come. All that was left behind was the general's longbow and long sword, bundled with a message for Tyndall.

 

"My son,

 

I don't expect you to understand me, nor would I ask you to. Let it suffice that I have spared your life today. Don't waste it in vengeance. Take my weapons and find your own destiny, far from here. If you do not leave, the next time we meet I will have to kill you.

 

When you are old enough, and when my people have forgotten their feud with the humans, we may speak on better terms.

 

-General Jerul Cade"

 

After making sure that his family survived, (The elves didn't kill anyone, as it turns out, which probably explains why Tyndall hasn't tried to kill them all yet.) Tyndall has wandered far and wide. His outwardly cheerful and carefree demeanor hides a heart heavy with sadness. He realizes the wisdom of his father's urging not to take up vengeance, but can't seem to stomach taking advice from the man who burnt down his happy home.

 

As for the gods... well, Tyndall reasons; if they wouldn't do anything to help him in his worst moment, then he'll have no truck with 'em.

 

OOC:

 

Erm... me likey back-story?

Edited by Finnius
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Name: Jarrod Bright

Concept: Spiritually Reborn Paladin

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Eyes: Brown

Hair: Chestnut

Height: 5'8"

Weight: 220 lbs

 

Bio: Jarrod grew up in a medium sized village as son to a well off merchant. As an only child, his parents were very loving, but demanding as well. His father, the town's banker, always told Jerrod that the bank awaited his coming of age. Generally it was a plain life, but something about it kept the young Bright unhappy.

 

At the age of fifteen, he ran away from home leaving only a note for his mother. He vowed that someday he'd return, but also made clear that he intended to find his own path in the world. Armed with his father's money purse, Jarrod began his trek to the largest city he could find. The journey, however did not last very long.

 

On the way to finding a city, he came upon a split in the road. The path branched left into the woods, right into the hills, and straight into a what seemed to be a settlement. Weary from living off of berries - he was too weak and ill-equipped to kill even rabbits - Jarrod decided that the settlement was the best choice. At least for the time being.

 

Coming closer, Jarrod realized that this must be a fort of some sort, probably of the army. Low quality leather tents were entrenched in rough soil, tears showed long use, and not a single structure was built with the intent to last. The inhabitants of this town reinforced Jarrod's earlier suspicions, they were as outwardly rough as their dwellings.

 

Gathering courage, Jarrod approached the largest tent, what he assumed to be a locale for social mingling. A heavy smell of ale filled the air as Jarrod walked, and quickly he began to gag. Weakly he made his way inside to be greeted by flying daggers and more people than he imagined could ever fit inside. Slinking to the back, he asked strangers for food and drink. He was lucky to be ignored, most would deliver a swift jab or insulting remark. Dissapointed, Jarrod left the settlement, and went to sleep just outside its perimeter.

 

The next morning, he woke up to find his father's money purse gone, and himself under a surly man's watch. His captor was wide as a boar and twice a fierce, and Jarrod then knew that this was not the way to find the largest city in all of the land. The man identified himself as the lord of the area, an obvious lie, and informed Jarrod of a newly found life of servitude. When the true leader found out that one of his men had a servant, he abducted Jarrod for himself.

 

Several years passed with Jarrod working diligently for his new master with no apparent end in sight. Time worked and transformed his body as Jerrod labored away in the bandit camp. Eventually, he killed a aging bandit and was accepted into the clan as the replacement, as a comrade. His days became less grueling, but remained difficult nonetheless. Instead of chopping wood, he chopped heads; instead of begging for food, he begged for more travelers to abuse.

 

The robberies of wandering people gave him many artifacts of value and hardened him to all but the most heinous of crimes. One autumnal evening around a campfire while retelling tales of wounds he inflicted on others, a scout employed by the bandits rushed towards him. The scout told of great wealth that would pass by near the camp early the next morning, heading from the hills to the woods.

 

When the sun rose, Jarrod was eagerly awaiting the caravan along with the rest of his ilk. Unfortunately for the bandits, this would not be an easy ambush. Two rows of four guarded each vehicle, uniformed in gleaming gold armor. The battle raged several hours, but Jarrod was first to charge and first to fall.

 

Continuing his habit of waking up in akward places, when Jarrod opened his eyes he saw an elderly figure in shimmering gold robes smiling down at him. "Pelor must like you," were the only words the man muttered before walking off. As he got up, Jerrod was struck by the omnipresence of the sun insignia on walls, furniture, fabrics, and everything else around him. He didn't know where his fallen comrades were, and he never felt the urge to ask.

 

The clerics in the temple quickly adopted him as one of their own, and began his training immediately. After several scuffles that Jarrod found himself invovled in, his teachers decided the role of the healer is not one for this man. Still feeling indebted to the order, he took up the surname 'Bright' as well as the sword and swore to cleanse evil in the name of the sun and Pelor.

 

Edit: Yea, I know how to spell. Really, I do.

Edited by Vlad
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To be honest, I am still interested but I have this idea that I'm getting involved in a little too much at the same time (both RL and penwise :-) ) so I'm going to skip this one.

 

Guess that eliminates one competitor for the others vying to get in, although I'm willing to play a few minor NPC roles if you have need for someone :P

Edited by Venefyxatu
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Name: Beau Tosscobble

Concept: Tenny-Tiny Thief

Race: Halfling

Gender: Male

Eyes: Brown

Hair: Brown

Height: 2'5"

Weight: 29 lbs

 

Beau was the essential "runt of the litter" of his family. Short even for a halfling, Beau went to almost absurd lengths to get noticed by members of his family. Naturally, this led to a series of readily increasing injuries as Beau chose stunts far beyond his abilities, which in turn led Beau to meeting a great deal of clerics and healers. But where such exposure would have made another person deeply and sincerely religious, it gave Beau yet another way to grab attention. He began "collecting" gods like other Halflings collected jewels or weapons. At the moment, Beau worships a good dozen different deities, including Olidammara, St. Cuthbert, Boccob, Corellon Larethian, Fharlanghn, Pelor, and Yondalla. His goal is to collect 29 different gods, or "A god for every inch!" as he's fond of proclaiming (usually before some ill-conceived stunt). He attempts to perform worship to all of the gods he's "collected," a usually self-defeating enterprise which keeps him fairly broke most of the time. Beau usually takes to stealing to cover his expenses, reasoning that, no matter what god his victim worships, some of the money will most likely go to them.

 

Beau tends to travel alone because many are offended by his collection and others don't want to be there when Beau's attention-grabbing gets the attention of the gods. However, if someone wants to travel with Beau, he's more than happy to tag along wherever they're going.

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Since Falcon has officially stated that the game is postponed, would anyone be interested in playing a game run by me? A d10 game would be preferred, but I could run...

 

Any of the d10 games (Specifically, Vampire, Dark Ages: Vampire, Werewolf, Demon, Orpheus, Mage, and Exalted)

Rifts

DnD

d20 Modern

BESM (Big Eyes, Small Mouth, the anime RPG)

Discworld RPG (GURPS)

Macho Women with Guns

 

:)

 

PM me for details on any queestions on games you don't knoww, or just in general

Edited by Degenero Angelus
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I'm just horrible at Vampire, but I can try it... and Exalted and Rift seem cool also. As Demon... Mage... Orpheus...

 

... Erm... truly told, the only ones I wouldn't risk playing would be Discworld (no idea of setting), BESM (not enough knowledge of any anime stuff), and d20 modern (not my kind of setting, sorry).

 

DnD is the only thing I know enough of the rules to play without any trouble at all... and I suppose I remember enough d10 from a failed attempt at Vampire :P

 

 

Is the play as Falcon was planning, or online using IRC or some RPG client?

Edited by Tanuchan
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I'm most comfortable, rules-wise, with the d10 stuff. Ran a Hunter game a while back, and consequently read all the source books... so, yeah, White Wolf is all good. Also, I love the system for BESM, but have never been able to finish a game due to standard player falling-out-of-habit-of-playing syndrome.

 

I've played d20 enough to be familiar with the rules, so anything based off that would be good too. Otherwise, Rifts and GURPS tend to be too in-depth on rules, but I'd give 'em another try if that's the way it comes out.

 

As a side note, have you had a chance to look at the new WoD stuff? It'll seem very familiar from the old d10, but is very streamlined, especially when it comes to combat. Also, there's a lot more room for GMs to play around story-wise without having to worry about stifling canon. Just a thought.

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Vampire--Dark Ages greatly preferred (would submit Rosemary post-Archmage), could work Victorian or modern*; Changeling--haven't played but am willing to try, either time-frame; Mage--see Changeling; Exalted--have played and could play again but grimly**; Orpheus--Bores me to distraction; No opinions on the rest.

 

Ok, I lied. How can Tzimfemme not be intrigued by Macho Women with Guns? And if someone has a d20 adaptation of 7th Sea, I'd put that up for consideration, but the original rules system was such a pain in the neck, especially combat.

 

*Tanuchan, if it's any consolation, I bomb out of modern Vampire but blaze through Dark Ages, astrally speaking; I found it easier to sustain a character when I also had to consider the altered world around it.

 

**Mmm. . .what type of Exalted, do you think, Deg?

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Ach, purism. Turn thy eyes away from complicated multiple target numbers, modifiers to said numbers *and* dice pools, multiple rolls for every aspect of combat, and stifling generation rules!

 

I say thee nay! One target for all rolls! Modify only thy pool, and by no more than 5 either way! Generation means nothing! Let it go up and down within the course of a game! One roll to hit, no dodge roll, no damage roll! Glory, glory, hallelujiah!

 

:P

 

On a more serious note, s'totally understandable. I enjoyed the old d10 system, but there were a lot of things I *really* wished were different, and most of those got addressed in the re-working. I'd be more than willing to play either one, and won't deny the coolness of Exalted.*

 

*See Tzim's footnote of similar persuasion.

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Lunars?? Did someone say Lunars? Kasmandre makes an unsuccessful attempt to stifle his drooling I love Lunars!

 

Seriously, though, I'd be into Exalted, especially Lunars or Abyssals (just started reading my roomate's copy of Abyssal). I've also played a lot of Mage and could get into that. Or Demon. A friend of mine's running a chron in that and it sounds cool. So, yeah, I'm in.

 

Also, I have a lot of friends who agree with you about Neo-Wod, Deg, but I must say I deeply love the idea of running a mortals story and the new simplified dice rules make a good deal of sense to me. But, to each their own.

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