[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)
[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)
[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)
[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)
You wake suddenly to the clank of metal on metal and the warm glow of a fire on your side. Darkness has fallen, and it takes your eyes a moment to adjust before you see your rescuer sitting by the fire, using a metal hook to lower a pot from above the campfire and onto a blanket. "You are awake," she observes. "Do you remember, now?" You shake your head, sitting up and pressing a hand to your forehead. The nightmare is still vivid, but the ideas of it are muted. The fear remains. "Not even your name?" she presses.
"No," you reply quietly, then look around. "Where are we?"
"Not far," she replies, using a glowing-tipped stick from the fire to light a smoking pipe. "But far enough from the Old Forest to be safe for a while." She clamps the stem of the pipe between her teeth, watching you. "The Little Folk would not welcome you within their borders, and had you been near then we would have known. You must have come from Bree." She slowly draws on her pipe. "You have the look of a merchant, perhaps, but to find yourself in the Old Forest and chased by wolves?" She regards you intently. "That is very ill fortune."
"So is losing your memory," you shoot back. "You seem to know exactly what is happening. Who are you?"
This question silences her for a long moment, smoke slowly slipping past her lips. "I am Fareth, a ranger." She watches you. "But that means nothing to you."
Her not incorrect observation has you staring pensively into the fire. It is an unpleasant sensation, to be so unsure of both yourself and the world. "So," you say eventually. "I have to go to Bree then." You glance at Fareth. "I don't suppose you could lend me your dagger."
"To travel alone along the road to Bree armed with only a dagger and alone is a fine way to find a brigand or some other creature looming behind you one night." She inhales slowly through her pipe, gray eyes uncomfortably sharp. After the nightmare you just had, you certainly don't like the idea of anybody looming behind you. Fareth sees your shiver and exhales slowly around her pipe. "Perhaps I should call you Bregolas," she remarks. "Until you remember or find a name of your own."
(Insight: Auto-Success, Major Success)
You suddenly realise that she is subtly mocking you - a slight downturn of her lips when she sees your shiver, the way she sounded so non-commital when discussing what she had deduced of your past. Bregolas...the word tickles at the back of your mind. Fierce? Courageous? It stings at you. Then you understand the tightness of her eyes, the way she keeps her eyes on you...and now you at last notice that her sword is nowhere to be seen. Your eyes flick momentarily to the blanket which keeps her metal pot off the ground while it cools. It would be easy to hide a sword there, within easy reach. She does not trust you. More than that, she is wary of you, and ready to defend herself or attack at a moments notice.
[ ] "You are suspicious. Do I seem a man who would easily do violence, or a base brigand who would repay you so? Am I so little? (Awe+ 1)
[ ] "I do not know who I once was, but I know that to conceal a weapon is not a sign of trust. Have I truly done anything to warrant such suspicion?" (Courtesy +1)
[ ] "You are wary of me, but I beg of you to not conceal what you know. My very mind is against me - can I not rely but a little on yours?" (Persuade +1)
Amnesiac
Endurance: 31/31
Armor Quality: (Roll Nd6 (n=armor quality) dice vs injury rating of attacking weapon. Equal/Exceeded resists becoming Wounded.)
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
[X] "You are wary of me, but I beg of you to not conceal what you know. My very mind is against me - can I not rely but a little on yours?" (Persuade +1)
[X] "I do not know who I once was, but I know that to conceal a weapon is not a sign of trust. Have I truly done anything to warrant such suspicion?" (Courtesy +1)
[X] "I do not know who I once was, but I know that to conceal a weapon is not a sign of trust. Have I truly done anything to warrant such suspicion?" (Courtesy +1)
[X] "I do not know who I once was, but I know that to conceal a weapon is not a sign of trust. Have I truly done anything to warrant such suspicion?" (Courtesy +1)
[X] "You are wary of me, but I beg of you to not conceal what you know. My very mind is against me - can I not rely but a little on yours?" (Persuade +1)
[X] "I do not know who I once was, but I know that to conceal a weapon is not a sign of trust. Have I truly done anything to warrant such suspicion?" (Courtesy +1)
[X] "You are wary of me, but I beg of you to not conceal what you know. My very mind is against me - can I not rely but a little on yours?" (Persuade +1)
Adhoc vote count started by Raptor580 on Aug 27, 2018 at 9:47 PM, finished with 37 posts and 8 votes.
[X] "I do not know who I once was, but I know that to conceal a weapon is not a sign of trust. Have I truly done anything to warrant such suspicion?" (Courtesy +1)
[X] "You are wary of me, but I beg of you to not conceal what you know. My very mind is against me - can I not rely but a little on yours?" (Persuade +1)
Adhoc vote count started by Raptor580 on Aug 27, 2018 at 10:04 PM, finished with 38 posts and 9 votes.
[X] "I do not know who I once was, but I know that to conceal a weapon is not a sign of trust. Have I truly done anything to warrant such suspicion?" (Courtesy +1)
[X] "You are wary of me, but I beg of you to not conceal what you know. My very mind is against me - can I not rely but a little on yours?" (Persuade +1)
[X] "I do not know who I once was, but I know that to conceal a weapon is not a sign of trust. Have I truly done anything to warrant such suspicion?" (Courtesy +1)
[X] "You are wary of me, but I beg of you to not conceal what you know. My very mind is against me - can I not rely but a little on yours?" (Persuade +1)
[X] "You are wary of me, but I beg of you to not conceal what you know. My very mind is against me - can I not rely but a little on yours?" (Persuade +1)
[x] "I do not know who I once was, but I know that to conceal a weapon is not a sign of trust. Have I truly done anything to warrant such suspicion?" (Courtesy +1)
It looks like a new take on Intimidate/Deceive/Persuade with social approach tied to your Body/Heart/Mind aspects.
If that logic is correct, Awe stands for a direct approach, 'brute forcing' the encounter through being earnest and straightforward.
[X] "You are wary of me, but I beg of you to not conceal what you know. My very mind is against me - can I not rely but a little on yours?" (Persuade +1)
[X] "You are suspicious. Do I seem a man who would easily do violence, or a base brigand who would repay you so? Am I so little? (Awe+ 1)
I like the direct angle here, and it seems a more interesting take than conventional persuasiveness or appealing to social mores. To simply present oneself and the issue and let them come to conclusions.
It means not only did you roll a 12 on the d12, you also rolled a 6 on the d6 given by your insight score. In this case, not only did you successfully deduce that her given name for you was mocking, but also that she was wary of you and ready to fight.
[X] "You are wary of me, but I beg of you to not conceal what you know. My very mind is against me - can I not rely but a little on yours?" (Persuade +1)
[X] "You are wary of me, but I beg of you to not conceal what you know. My very mind is against me - can I not rely but a little on yours?" (Persuade +1)
Fareth regards you for a long, silent moment, pipe-smoke spiraling up into the air. Then she removes the long stem from between her lips and taps it firmly against her knee, emptying it onto the ground. Her eyes do not leave you. "Your clothes," she says, with perfunctory tonelessness. "Finely made, but with little rich cloth. Not extravagant, but far from the reach of a farmer." She tucks her pipe away. "Your hands have never seen a day of work in your life. You are tall and well-fed, with no scars." Her eyes glitter. "You have no wounds to explain your loss of memory." Here she pauses a moment and turns to lift the lid from her pot, and your stomach rumbles as the smell of the stew hits you. "Now," she says, offering you a carved wooden bowl and spoon, which you take with uncertain hands. "Eat. I will see that you make it safely to Bree. You may be recognised there."
With that said the ranger falls into what seems to be a pensive mood, watching you as you eat. You are too distracted by the food to really notice, the taste of rabbit exploding across your tongue and filling your belly. It is although you haven't eaten in days, and suddenly a hunger you didn't even realise existed is filled. When the wooden spoon can provide no more you finally look back up at Fareth. "If we reach Bree and nobody recognises me..." you trail off as the true import of your question hits you. You would have no resources, no friends, no means of survival.
"Best hope it doesn't come to that," Fareth replies briskly, and you find yourself bristling at her lack of sympathy. But what is said is said, and soon you notice light beginning to creep over the horizon. It had been high noon the day before when you collapsed - had it truly been so long? You glance at the ranger, but she seems none the worse for wear after what must have been a watch through the entire night. Without much announcement she rises and kicks the fire out, preparing to move out. True enough, the sword is revealed when she pulls up the blanket. "Bree is two days away in good weather, even along the East Road," she tells you as she packs. "Once there the Prancing Pony will likely have somebody who has heard of you. All things that pass through Bree-land pass through that inn, one way or another."
You cannot help but feel a little like sympathy is lacking, although to complain about it seems a poor idea given that she is escorting you to safety rather than abandoning you on the road. As you set out not much is amiss, but as the day goes on you notice that Fareth is giving you speculative looks. At first you ignore them, because to an emptied mind even traveling along a well-worn road is a riot of color and experience, and you find yourself fascinated by everything from the feel of the trodden grass and scattered cobble beneath your feet to the way the land undulates gently about you in hill and fields of wild grass. But eventually it becomes too much. "Have I done something wrong?" you ask, a touch crossly.
Fareth smiles thinly. "We have not stopped to eat, and I have set a ranger's pace. Perhaps not a merchant after all, Bregolas."
Her words turn your mind back to the nature of identity, and as you settle down for the night and she takes her watch you find yourself perturbed. It seems natural to sleep, but this woman appears to have no such need. Still, given the quality of your interactions thusfar you refrain from broaching the subject. After a dark and dreamless sleep the sun rises and you set off again. Still, you are determined not to spend your second day like the first, and attempt to engage in conversation.
[ ] You ask questions about her behavior - how she knows to leave the road at this point for a few minutes, or why she stops to look at apparently random clumps of earth from time to time. (Awareness+1)
[ ] You ask about the land you are traveling through, trying to find a conversation starter in every hill or weathered marker along the road. Why is the road so overgrown? Why a road to through so much emptiness? (Lore + 1)
Amnesiac
Endurance: 31/31
Armor Quality: (Roll Nd6 (n=armor quality) dice vs injury rating of attacking weapon. Equal/Exceeded resists becoming Wounded.)
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
[X] You ask about the land you are traveling through, trying to find a conversation starter in every hill or weathered marker along the road. Why is the road so overgrown? Why a road to through so much emptiness? (Lore + 1)
