It is the year 2946 of the Third Age, and the lands east of the Misty Mountains are astir. From...
From Between Dark Trees (LoTR RPG-lite Quest)
- Thread starter Sayle
- Start date
- Created
- Status
- Ongoing
- Watchers
- 105
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- Threadmarks
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Statistics (28 threadmarks, 22k words)
User Total Sayle 28 -
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Beginnings
It is the year 2946 of the Third Age, and the lands east of the Misty Mountains are astir. From the cloud-shrouded peaks above the High Pass to the spider-infested gloom of the forest of Mirkwood, paths long-deserted are trodden once again. Busy merchants carry their wares to new markets, messengers bring tidings from foreign realms, and kings send forth armed men to extend their influence and the rule of law. Some say that a new age of freedom has begun, a time for adventure and great deeds to reclaim glories lost in long centuries of oppression and decline.
This is not that story - or perhaps, not a story that begins amid the jubilation of victory and the golden glint of dragonscale beneath lake-waters. Instead it begins with terror and confusion, and a man stumbling towards the treeline of a forest. Upon his heels are dark creatures, teasing and malicious, and when his ragged footsteps draw him close to the hints of light that shine through the tree trunks he is forced away by a flash of motion and a monstrous bulk. His cries of fear grow weaker with each encounter, his body further still. His tormentors creep ever close, their circle ever tighter.
Then salvation! With a battle cry one of the creatures is slain in a slash of steel.
[ ] "Back, beasts!" cries the man - for it is a man. He stands noble and proud, a bare blade in his hand and a great shield in the other, his body clad in mail. "Do not stand afraid before death! Fight!" Strength invigorates your limbs as you hurry towards him, and with a great shove one of the spiders is hurled bodily from your path! You catch the dagger thrown to you in a swift and sure hand and turn to cover the warrior's back, back pressed to his. You look up just in time to spot a spider descending from above on a rope of silk...
[ ] "Ware Shadow!" and in a flash of motion a longsword that seems more silver than steel lops from one of those snarling wolves its head entire. The woman seems unassailable, a proud stiffness to her back that is not diminished by her travelling cloak nor the simple leather corslet she wears. "Stand, Man of the West!" She buries her sword in the heart of a lunging wolf and lays her hands upon it, throwing it down where it stands. At once a dagger is in her hand to slash at another wolf, and as the corpse at her feet rolls limply to the side the hilt of the sword is a mere arms-length from your fingers…
[ ] It is not merely a man who comes to your rescue, but a horse also, and even in the tight confines of the forest it lays low one of the colossal warg with its rearing hooves. He says nothing, a great roar of fury emerging from his throat as he uses his sword like a cleaver, hacking great chunks from the black-furred beasts with no regard for his safety. His hair burns like the sun when the light falls upon it through the canopy above, a ruddy red that seems to crown him in blood. You see a dagger tucked into the saddle of the horse, and yank it free just in time to guard against the largest of the warg, which pads towards you with deadly intent…
This is not that story - or perhaps, not a story that begins amid the jubilation of victory and the golden glint of dragonscale beneath lake-waters. Instead it begins with terror and confusion, and a man stumbling towards the treeline of a forest. Upon his heels are dark creatures, teasing and malicious, and when his ragged footsteps draw him close to the hints of light that shine through the tree trunks he is forced away by a flash of motion and a monstrous bulk. His cries of fear grow weaker with each encounter, his body further still. His tormentors creep ever close, their circle ever tighter.
Then salvation! With a battle cry one of the creatures is slain in a slash of steel.
[ ] "Back, beasts!" cries the man - for it is a man. He stands noble and proud, a bare blade in his hand and a great shield in the other, his body clad in mail. "Do not stand afraid before death! Fight!" Strength invigorates your limbs as you hurry towards him, and with a great shove one of the spiders is hurled bodily from your path! You catch the dagger thrown to you in a swift and sure hand and turn to cover the warrior's back, back pressed to his. You look up just in time to spot a spider descending from above on a rope of silk...
[ ] "Ware Shadow!" and in a flash of motion a longsword that seems more silver than steel lops from one of those snarling wolves its head entire. The woman seems unassailable, a proud stiffness to her back that is not diminished by her travelling cloak nor the simple leather corslet she wears. "Stand, Man of the West!" She buries her sword in the heart of a lunging wolf and lays her hands upon it, throwing it down where it stands. At once a dagger is in her hand to slash at another wolf, and as the corpse at her feet rolls limply to the side the hilt of the sword is a mere arms-length from your fingers…
[ ] It is not merely a man who comes to your rescue, but a horse also, and even in the tight confines of the forest it lays low one of the colossal warg with its rearing hooves. He says nothing, a great roar of fury emerging from his throat as he uses his sword like a cleaver, hacking great chunks from the black-furred beasts with no regard for his safety. His hair burns like the sun when the light falls upon it through the canopy above, a ruddy red that seems to crown him in blood. You see a dagger tucked into the saddle of the horse, and yank it free just in time to guard against the largest of the warg, which pads towards you with deadly intent…
???
Endurance:
Armor Quality:
(Roll Nd6 (n=armor quality) dice vs attack damage. Equal/Exceeded resists all damage.)
Body: ?
Athletics:
Awareness:
Craft:
Heart: ?
Inspire:
Insight:
Healing:
Mind: ?
Persuade:
Stealth:
Lore:
Roll 1d12 (1 auto-fail, 12 auto-success) + 1d6 for every point in a skill (6 improves result).
Weapon Skills
Roll 1d12 (1 auto-fail, 12 auto-success) + 1d6 for every point in a skill (6 doubles damage, double 6s triple damage, etc).
Equipment
Endurance:
Armor Quality:
(Roll Nd6 (n=armor quality) dice vs attack damage. Equal/Exceeded resists all damage.)
Body: ?
Athletics:
Awareness:
Craft:
Heart: ?
Inspire:
Insight:
Healing:
Mind: ?
Persuade:
Stealth:
Lore:
Roll 1d12 (1 auto-fail, 12 auto-success) + 1d6 for every point in a skill (6 improves result).
Weapon Skills
Roll 1d12 (1 auto-fail, 12 auto-success) + 1d6 for every point in a skill (6 doubles damage, double 6s triple damage, etc).
Equipment
- Location
- Kiel; Germany
[X] "Back, beasts!" cries the man - for it is a man. He stands noble and proud, a bare blade in his hand and a great shield in the other, his body clad in mail. "Do not stand afraid before death! Fight!" Strength invigorates your limbs as you hurry towards him, and with a great shove one of the spiders is hurled bodily from your path! You catch the dagger thrown to you in a swift and sure hand and turn to cover the warrior's back, back pressed to his. You look up just in time to spot a spider descending from above on a rope of silk...
- Location
- USA
[X] "Back, beasts!" cries the man - for it is a man. He stands noble and proud, a bare blade in his hand and a great shield in the other, his body clad in mail. "Do not stand afraid before death! Fight!" Strength invigorates your limbs as you hurry towards him, and with a great shove one of the spiders is hurled bodily from your path! You catch the dagger thrown to you in a swift and sure hand and turn to cover the warrior's back, back pressed to his. You look up just in time to spot a spider descending from above on a rope of silk...
[X] "Ware Shadow!" and in a flash of motion a longsword that seems more silver than steel lops from one of those snarling wolves its head entire. The woman seems unassailable, a proud stiffness to her back that is not diminished by her travelling cloak nor the simple leather corslet she wears. "Stand, Man of the West!" She buries her sword in the heart of a lunging wolf and lays her hands upon it, throwing it down where it stands. At once a dagger is in her hand to slash at another wolf, and as the corpse at her feet rolls limply to the side the hilt of the sword is a mere arms-length from your fingers…
- Location
- 2
[X] "Ware Shadow!" and in a flash of motion a longsword that seems more silver than steel lops from one of those snarling wolves its head entire. The woman seems unassailable, a proud stiffness to her back that is not diminished by her travelling cloak nor the simple leather corslet she wears. "Stand, Man of the West!" She buries her sword in the heart of a lunging wolf and lays her hands upon it, throwing it down where it stands. At once a dagger is in her hand to slash at another wolf, and as the corpse at her feet rolls limply to the side the hilt of the sword is a mere arms-length from your fingers…
- Location
- Earth
[X] "Ware Shadow!" and in a flash of motion a longsword that seems more silver than steel lops from one of those snarling wolves its head entire. The woman seems unassailable, a proud stiffness to her back that is not diminished by her travelling cloak nor the simple leather corslet she wears. "Stand, Man of the West!" She buries her sword in the heart of a lunging wolf and lays her hands upon it, throwing it down where it stands. At once a dagger is in her hand to slash at another wolf, and as the corpse at her feet rolls limply to the side the hilt of the sword is a mere arms-length from your fingers…
- Location
- Germany
[X] "Back, beasts!" cries the man - for it is a man. He stands noble and proud, a bare blade in his hand and a great shield in the other, his body clad in mail. "Do not stand afraid before death! Fight!" Strength invigorates your limbs as you hurry towards him, and with a great shove one of the spiders is hurled bodily from your path! You catch the dagger thrown to you in a swift and sure hand and turn to cover the warrior's back, back pressed to his. You look up just in time to spot a spider descending from above on a rope of silk...
[X] "Ware Shadow!" and in a flash of motion a longsword that seems more silver than steel lops from one of those snarling wolves its head entire. The woman seems unassailable, a proud stiffness to her back that is not diminished by her travelling cloak nor the simple leather corslet she wears. "Stand, Man of the West!" She buries her sword in the heart of a lunging wolf and lays her hands upon it, throwing it down where it stands. At once a dagger is in her hand to slash at another wolf, and as the corpse at her feet rolls limply to the side the hilt of the sword is a mere arms-length from your fingers…
Strength or Sight
[X] "Ware Shadow!" and in a flash of motion a longsword that seems more silver than steel lops from one of those snarling wolves its head entire. The woman seems unassailable, a proud stiffness to her back that is not diminished by her travelling cloak nor the simple leather corslet she wears. "Stand, Man of the West!" She buries her sword in the heart of a lunging wolf and lays her hands upon it, throwing it down where it stands. At once a dagger is in her hand to slash at another wolf, and as the corpse at her feet rolls limply to the side the hilt of the sword is a mere arms-length from your fingers…
You lunge for the hilt of the sword and close your hand around the leather-wrapped hilt. Finding your footing you hear a low growl from behind you and in a moment of adrenaline-fueled panic try to pull the blade free while turning to face the wolf creeping up behind you.
(Roll: 1d12 = 10.)
The wolf's soft hair tickles at your fingertips as you give it a mighty heave from where it lies, the sword almost yanking your shoulder out when it carries the entire impaled body with it instead of slipping free, resulting in a heavy thump as the emaciated but nonetheless heavy wolf is lifted a solid few inches into the air before falling back to earth. Worst still, the blade shifts as you pull it, and warm blood gushes out over your hand. Your grip is now so slippery there is little chance you can pull it free before the wolf is upon you.
And it is upon you! Scarcely five steps away the golden-eyed beast snarls with bared teeth. The wolf comes nearly to your waist, and with a lowering of its haunches it leaps at you with slavering mouth drawn wide with an all-too aware malice.
[ ] Your feet are light upon the ground, and you dance to the side with a swiftness that surprises even yourself. The wolf goes sailing past with a drawn out snarl, so close that its passing stirs your hair atop your head. It lands in a scramble of paws on exposed tree root and thin bracken. Suddenly your rescuer is upon it with a smash of her boot in its side, and it recoils with a yelp of pain and a loud crack. It flees with its tail between its legs, whining and crying as it goes. When the rustle of its flight fades from the underbrush the forest is left quiet. (+1 Body, +1 Athletics)
[ ] As it leaps you notice the way the fur about its chest is darker than the rest, an almost glistening black against the charcoal dark of the rest of its coat. Then it is on you, but before its jaws can close around your throat your fist strikes its chest. You are both borne to the ground by the weight of that leap and impact, but while your back lands hard on the ground the wolf fares worst still, tumbling over you with its own momentum and a yelp of pain. Your hand is covered with more blood not your own, but before the wolf can scramble back to all fours your rescuer drops heavy down beside it with dagger bared, and the wolf goes still as the tip pierces the ribcage and the heart behind. (+1 Heart, +1 Insight)
You lunge for the hilt of the sword and close your hand around the leather-wrapped hilt. Finding your footing you hear a low growl from behind you and in a moment of adrenaline-fueled panic try to pull the blade free while turning to face the wolf creeping up behind you.
(Roll: 1d12 = 10.)
The wolf's soft hair tickles at your fingertips as you give it a mighty heave from where it lies, the sword almost yanking your shoulder out when it carries the entire impaled body with it instead of slipping free, resulting in a heavy thump as the emaciated but nonetheless heavy wolf is lifted a solid few inches into the air before falling back to earth. Worst still, the blade shifts as you pull it, and warm blood gushes out over your hand. Your grip is now so slippery there is little chance you can pull it free before the wolf is upon you.
And it is upon you! Scarcely five steps away the golden-eyed beast snarls with bared teeth. The wolf comes nearly to your waist, and with a lowering of its haunches it leaps at you with slavering mouth drawn wide with an all-too aware malice.
[ ] Your feet are light upon the ground, and you dance to the side with a swiftness that surprises even yourself. The wolf goes sailing past with a drawn out snarl, so close that its passing stirs your hair atop your head. It lands in a scramble of paws on exposed tree root and thin bracken. Suddenly your rescuer is upon it with a smash of her boot in its side, and it recoils with a yelp of pain and a loud crack. It flees with its tail between its legs, whining and crying as it goes. When the rustle of its flight fades from the underbrush the forest is left quiet. (+1 Body, +1 Athletics)
[ ] As it leaps you notice the way the fur about its chest is darker than the rest, an almost glistening black against the charcoal dark of the rest of its coat. Then it is on you, but before its jaws can close around your throat your fist strikes its chest. You are both borne to the ground by the weight of that leap and impact, but while your back lands hard on the ground the wolf fares worst still, tumbling over you with its own momentum and a yelp of pain. Your hand is covered with more blood not your own, but before the wolf can scramble back to all fours your rescuer drops heavy down beside it with dagger bared, and the wolf goes still as the tip pierces the ribcage and the heart behind. (+1 Heart, +1 Insight)
???
Endurance: 30/30
Armor Quality:
(Roll Nd6 (n=armor quality) dice vs injury rating of attacking weapon. Equal/Exceeded resists becoming Wounded.)
Body: 5
Athletics: 0
Awareness: 0
Craft: 0
Heart: 5
Inspire: 0
Insight: 0
Healing: 0
Mind: 5
Persuade: 0
Stealth: 0
Lore: 0
Roll 1d12 (1 auto-fail, 12 auto-success) + 1d6 for every point in a skill (6 improves result).
Weapon Skills
Roll 1d12 (1 auto-fail, 12 auto-success) + 1d6 for every point in a skill (6 adds Body as damage, double 6s Bodyx2 as damage, etc) and deal as Endurance damage. 1d12 rolls above the Edge value of the weapon inflict a
Equipment
Encumbrance: 0/30
Endurance: 30/30
Armor Quality:
(Roll Nd6 (n=armor quality) dice vs injury rating of attacking weapon. Equal/Exceeded resists becoming Wounded.)
Body: 5
Athletics: 0
Awareness: 0
Craft: 0
Heart: 5
Inspire: 0
Insight: 0
Healing: 0
Mind: 5
Persuade: 0
Stealth: 0
Lore: 0
Roll 1d12 (1 auto-fail, 12 auto-success) + 1d6 for every point in a skill (6 improves result).
Weapon Skills
Roll 1d12 (1 auto-fail, 12 auto-success) + 1d6 for every point in a skill (6 adds Body as damage, double 6s Bodyx2 as damage, etc) and deal as Endurance damage. 1d12 rolls above the Edge value of the weapon inflict a
Equipment
Encumbrance: 0/30
Last edited:
Varder
Tired Cultist
- Location
- Hell
[X] As it leaps you notice the way the fur about its chest is darker than the rest, an almost glistening black against the charcoal dark of the rest of its coat. Then it is on you, but before its jaws can close around your throat your fist strikes its chest. You are both borne to the ground by the weight of that leap and impact, but while your back lands hard on the ground the wolf fares worst still, tumbling over you with its own momentum and a yelp of pain. Your hand is covered with more blood not your own, but before the wolf can scramble back to all fours your rescuer drops heavy down beside it with dagger bared, and the wolf goes still as the tip pierces its ribcage and the heart behind. (+1 Heart, +1 Insight)
- Location
- USA
[x] As it leaps you notice the way the fur about its chest is darker than the rest, an almost glistening black against the charcoal dark of the rest of its coat. Then it is on you, but before its jaws can close around your throat your fist strikes its chest. You are both borne to the ground by the weight of that leap and impact, but while your back lands hard on the ground the wolf fares worst still, tumbling over you with its own momentum and a yelp of pain. Your hand is covered with more blood not your own, but before the wolf can scramble back to all fours your rescuer drops heavy down beside it with dagger bared, and the wolf goes still as the tip pierces the ribcage and the heart behind. (+1 Heart, +1 Insight)
[X] Your feet are light upon the ground, and you dance to the side with a swiftness that surprises even yourself. The wolf goes sailing past with a drawn out snarl, so close that its passing stirs your hair atop your head. It lands in a scramble of paws on exposed tree root and thin bracken. Suddenly your rescuer is upon it with a smash of her boot in its side, and it recoils with a yelp of pain and a loud crack. It flees with its tail between its legs, whining and crying as it goes. When the rustle of its flight fades from the underbrush the forest is left quiet. (+1 Body, +1 Athletics)
- Location
- Florida
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] As it leaps you notice the way the fur about its chest is darker than the rest, an almost glistening black against the charcoal dark of the rest of its coat. Then it is on you, but before its jaws can close around your throat your fist strikes its chest. You are both borne to the ground by the weight of that leap and impact, but while your back lands hard on the ground the wolf fares worst still, tumbling over you with its own momentum and a yelp of pain. Your hand is covered with more blood not your own, but before the wolf can scramble back to all fours your rescuer drops heavy down beside it with dagger bared, and the wolf goes still as the tip pierces the ribcage and the heart behind. (+1 Heart, +1 Insight)
- Location
- DFW
[X] As it leaps you notice the way the fur about its chest is darker than the rest, an almost glistening black against the charcoal dark of the rest of its coat. Then it is on you, but before its jaws can close around your throat your fist strikes its chest. You are both borne to the ground by the weight of that leap and impact, but while your back lands hard on the ground the wolf fares worst still, tumbling over you with its own momentum and a yelp of pain. Your hand is covered with more blood not your own, but before the wolf can scramble back to all fours your rescuer drops heavy down beside it with dagger bared, and the wolf goes still as the tip pierces its ribcage and the heart behind. (+1 Heart, +1 Insight)
[X] As it leaps you notice the way the fur about its chest is darker than the rest, an almost glistening black against the charcoal dark of the rest of its coat. Then it is on you, but before its jaws can close around your throat your fist strikes its chest. You are both borne to the ground by the weight of that leap and impact, but while your back lands hard on the ground the wolf fares worst still, tumbling over you with its own momentum and a yelp of pain. Your hand is covered with more blood not your own, but before the wolf can scramble back to all fours your rescuer drops heavy down beside it with dagger bared, and the wolf goes still as the tip pierces its ribcage and the heart behind. (+1 Heart, +1 Insight)
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Your feet are light upon the ground, and you dance to the side with a swiftness that surprises even yourself. The wolf goes sailing past with a drawn out snarl, so close that its passing stirs your hair atop your head. It lands in a scramble of paws on exposed tree root and thin bracken. Suddenly your rescuer is upon it with a smash of her boot in its side, and it recoils with a yelp of pain and a loud crack. It flees with its tail between its legs, whining and crying as it goes. When the rustle of its flight fades from the underbrush the forest is left quiet. (+1 Body, +1 Athletics)
- Location
- St. Petersburg
[x] As it leaps you notice the way the fur about its chest is darker than the rest, an almost glistening black against the charcoal dark of the rest of its coat. Then it is on you, but before its jaws can close around your throat your fist strikes its chest. You are both borne to the ground by the weight of that leap and impact, but while your back lands hard on the ground the wolf fares worst still, tumbling over you with its own momentum and a yelp of pain. Your hand is covered with more blood not your own, but before the wolf can scramble back to all fours your rescuer drops heavy down beside it with dagger bared, and the wolf goes still as the tip pierces the ribcage and the heart behind. (+1 Heart, +1 Insight)
Identity
[X] As it leaps you notice the way the fur about its chest is darker than the rest, an almost glistening black against the charcoal dark of the rest of its coat. Then it is on you, but before its jaws can close around your throat your fist strikes its chest. You are both borne to the ground by the weight of that leap and impact, but while your back lands hard on the ground the wolf fares worst still, tumbling over you with its own momentum and a yelp of pain. Your hand is covered with more blood not your own, but before the wolf can scramble back to all fours your rescuer drops heavy down beside it with dagger bared, and the wolf goes still as the tip pierces the ribcage and the heart behind. (+1 Heart, +1 Insight)
She rises from her position on one knee as you scramble up, yanking her knife free and wiping it on the wolf's fur before sheathing. "These woods are dangerous," she says as she goes about retrieving her sword with businesslike efficiency, placing a boot solidly on the corpse before it comes free in a smooth pull. It hardly seems like it takes any effort at all for her. "Come, I will safeguard you to the edge." You waste no time in hurrying after her, and in less a minute you have to raise a hand to shield your eyes from the sun above. While in the forest it had seemed near twilight, outside the sun what high in the sky. For the first in what seems like forever, your body begins to relax. It doesn't last long, as you startle when the woman flicks her sword to remove the blood, flashes of glare into your eyes.
"You are a long way from Bree," she says. "Traveling through the wilderness is folly with neither weapons or company. What is your business in the Old Forest?" She regards you for a long moment as you stare blankly at her. Her lips are pursed tightly over a sharp nose, and her gray eyes seem cold and aloof. The cloak which had seemed so dark in the forest is in fact a light green that blends in better with the wild grass at your feet than from where you came, and you can now make out the unstrung bow over her back.
(Roll+Insight = 12)
But as you watch her expression sharpens with something unidentifiable. "Do you understand me?" she asks carefully. You nod mutely, aware of the still bare blade in her hand, then clear your throat.
"I understand you," you say, and are surprised by the quality of your voice - soft spoken, but smooth. You realise then that you do not know the sound of your own voice, and hesitantly look down at your hands. They are smooth also, unmarked by callouses or other labor. You turn your head to look at what you are wearing, plucking at the simple blue tunic. The material seems soft between your fingers, not of any strange material but very finely woven. Your trousers are of similar fabric, but duller cream in color. Only soft leather boots cover your feet, but they far from suited for use in the wilderness.
"I don't know who I am," you realise. Something pulses behind your eyelids, the world spins, and...
[ ] You dream of flight. You are in a tunnel of some sort, the walls glistening with moisture in the low light. There is something in your hand, tightly coiled, and you feel as though something worse than wolves is on your heels. There is a great din of shouting behind you, a clatter of arms and armor, and the panic in you swells. You duck into a side passage as torches overtake you in streams of light held by indistinct figures, and you emerge from your hiding place to double back behind them - then there is a great flash of light and there are hands on you, grappling with you - (Mind+1, Stealth+1)
[ ] You dream of the forge. There is a red light and heat, and something shakes your limbs in rhythm with the great clang that seems to surround you. The noise shakes you to your core, like it reverberates and threatens to tear you at the seams. Sparks fly with the descent of your hammer - yes, you are holding a hammer - and metal bends beneath it. You feel the weight of it as you lift it up, and you know that you have crafted a weapon. One meant for war and to lay low the enemy. But there is something behind you, something terrible, and you turn around with hammer in hand - (Body+1, Craft+1)
She rises from her position on one knee as you scramble up, yanking her knife free and wiping it on the wolf's fur before sheathing. "These woods are dangerous," she says as she goes about retrieving her sword with businesslike efficiency, placing a boot solidly on the corpse before it comes free in a smooth pull. It hardly seems like it takes any effort at all for her. "Come, I will safeguard you to the edge." You waste no time in hurrying after her, and in less a minute you have to raise a hand to shield your eyes from the sun above. While in the forest it had seemed near twilight, outside the sun what high in the sky. For the first in what seems like forever, your body begins to relax. It doesn't last long, as you startle when the woman flicks her sword to remove the blood, flashes of glare into your eyes.
"You are a long way from Bree," she says. "Traveling through the wilderness is folly with neither weapons or company. What is your business in the Old Forest?" She regards you for a long moment as you stare blankly at her. Her lips are pursed tightly over a sharp nose, and her gray eyes seem cold and aloof. The cloak which had seemed so dark in the forest is in fact a light green that blends in better with the wild grass at your feet than from where you came, and you can now make out the unstrung bow over her back.
(Roll+Insight = 12)
But as you watch her expression sharpens with something unidentifiable. "Do you understand me?" she asks carefully. You nod mutely, aware of the still bare blade in her hand, then clear your throat.
"I understand you," you say, and are surprised by the quality of your voice - soft spoken, but smooth. You realise then that you do not know the sound of your own voice, and hesitantly look down at your hands. They are smooth also, unmarked by callouses or other labor. You turn your head to look at what you are wearing, plucking at the simple blue tunic. The material seems soft between your fingers, not of any strange material but very finely woven. Your trousers are of similar fabric, but duller cream in color. Only soft leather boots cover your feet, but they far from suited for use in the wilderness.
"I don't know who I am," you realise. Something pulses behind your eyelids, the world spins, and...
[ ] You dream of flight. You are in a tunnel of some sort, the walls glistening with moisture in the low light. There is something in your hand, tightly coiled, and you feel as though something worse than wolves is on your heels. There is a great din of shouting behind you, a clatter of arms and armor, and the panic in you swells. You duck into a side passage as torches overtake you in streams of light held by indistinct figures, and you emerge from your hiding place to double back behind them - then there is a great flash of light and there are hands on you, grappling with you - (Mind+1, Stealth+1)
[ ] You dream of the forge. There is a red light and heat, and something shakes your limbs in rhythm with the great clang that seems to surround you. The noise shakes you to your core, like it reverberates and threatens to tear you at the seams. Sparks fly with the descent of your hammer - yes, you are holding a hammer - and metal bends beneath it. You feel the weight of it as you lift it up, and you know that you have crafted a weapon. One meant for war and to lay low the enemy. But there is something behind you, something terrible, and you turn around with hammer in hand - (Body+1, Craft+1)
???
Endurance: 30/30
Armor Quality:
(Roll Nd6 (n=armor quality) dice vs injury rating of attacking weapon. Equal/Exceeded resists becoming Wounded.)
Body: 5
Athletics: 0
Awareness: 0
Craft: 0
Heart: 6
Inspire: 0
Insight: 1
Healing: 0
Mind: 5
Persuade: 0
Stealth: 0
Lore: 0
Roll 1d12 (1 auto-fail, 12 auto-success) + 1d6 for every point in a skill (6 improves result).
Weapon Skills
Roll 1d12 (1 auto-fail, 12 auto-success) + 1d6 for every point in a skill (6 adds Body as damage, double 6s Bodyx2 as damage, etc) and deal as Endurance damage. 1d12 rolls above the Edge value of the weapon inflict a
Equipment
Encumbrance: 0/30
Endurance: 30/30
Armor Quality:
(Roll Nd6 (n=armor quality) dice vs injury rating of attacking weapon. Equal/Exceeded resists becoming Wounded.)
Body: 5
Athletics: 0
Awareness: 0
Craft: 0
Heart: 6
Inspire: 0
Insight: 1
Healing: 0
Mind: 5
Persuade: 0
Stealth: 0
Lore: 0
Roll 1d12 (1 auto-fail, 12 auto-success) + 1d6 for every point in a skill (6 improves result).
Weapon Skills
Roll 1d12 (1 auto-fail, 12 auto-success) + 1d6 for every point in a skill (6 adds Body as damage, double 6s Bodyx2 as damage, etc) and deal as Endurance damage. 1d12 rolls above the Edge value of the weapon inflict a
Equipment
Encumbrance: 0/30
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[X] You dream of the forge. There is a red light and heat, and something shakes your limbs in rhythm with the great clang that seems to surround you. The noise shakes you to your core, like it reverberates and threatens to tear you at the seams. Sparks fly with the descent of your hammer - yes, you are holding a hammer - and metal bends beneath it. You feel the weight of it as you lift it up, and you know that you have crafted a weapon. One meant for war and to lay low the enemy. But there is something behind you, something terrible, and you turn around with hammer in hand - (Body+1, Craft+1)
Varder
Tired Cultist
- Location
- Hell
[X] You dream of flight. You are in a tunnel of some sort, the walls glistening with moisture in the low light. There is something in your hand, tightly coiled, and you feel as though something worse than wolves is on your heels. There is a great din of shouting behind you, a clatter of arms and armor, and the panic in you swells. You duck into a side passage as torches overtake you in streams of light held by indistinct figures, and you emerge from your hiding place to double back behind them - then there is a great flash of light and there are hands on you, grappling with you - (Mind+1, Stealth+1)
Let's be a dragon.
Let's be a dragon.
- Location
- USA
[X] You dream of the forge. There is a red light and heat, and something shakes your limbs in rhythm with the great clang that seems to surround you. The noise shakes you to your core, like it reverberates and threatens to tear you at the seams. Sparks fly with the descent of your hammer - yes, you are holding a hammer - and metal bends beneath it. You feel the weight of it as you lift it up, and you know that you have crafted a weapon. One meant for war and to lay low the enemy. But there is something behind you, something terrible, and you turn around with hammer in hand - (Body+1, Craft+1)
- Location
- St. Petersburg
[x] You dream of the forge. There is a red light and heat, and something shakes your limbs in rhythm with the great clang that seems to surround you. The noise shakes you to your core, like it reverberates and threatens to tear you at the seams. Sparks fly with the descent of your hammer - yes, you are holding a hammer - and metal bends beneath it. You feel the weight of it as you lift it up, and you know that you have crafted a weapon. One meant for war and to lay low the enemy. But there is something behind you, something terrible, and you turn around with hammer in hand - (Body+1, Craft+1)
- Location
- 2
[X] You dream of the forge. There is a red light and heat, and something shakes your limbs in rhythm with the great clang that seems to surround you. The noise shakes you to your core, like it reverberates and threatens to tear you at the seams. Sparks fly with the descent of your hammer - yes, you are holding a hammer - and metal bends beneath it. You feel the weight of it as you lift it up, and you know that you have crafted a weapon. One meant for war and to lay low the enemy. But there is something behind you, something terrible, and you turn around with hammer in hand - (Body+1, Craft+1)
- Location
- Reno
- Pronouns
- They/Them
New
[X] You dream of the forge. There is a red light and heat, and something shakes your limbs in rhythm with the great clang that seems to surround you. The noise shakes you to your core, like it reverberates and threatens to tear you at the seams. Sparks fly with the descent of your hammer - yes, you are holding a hammer - and metal bends beneath it. You feel the weight of it as you lift it up, and you know that you have crafted a weapon. One meant for war and to lay low the enemy. But there is something behind you, something terrible, and you turn around with hammer in hand - (Body+1, Craft+1)
[X] You dream of the forge. There is a red light and heat, and something shakes your limbs in rhythm with the great clang that seems to surround you. The noise shakes you to your core, like it reverberates and threatens to tear you at the seams. Sparks fly with the descent of your hammer - yes, you are holding a hammer - and metal bends beneath it. You feel the weight of it as you lift it up, and you know that you have crafted a weapon. One meant for war and to lay low the enemy. But there is something behind you, something terrible, and you turn around with hammer in hand - (Body+1, Craft+1)