A game set in Amalur, a world where Fate is a real and inmutable truth. It's your job to survive in demons, crazy fanatics and who knows what else in this goddamned land.
Amalur is a world governed by Fate. From the loftiest of kings to the poorest of beggars, their lot has always preordained. Love, Sorrow, Joy, Tragedy, Life, Valour, Defeat, Death… these concepts are carved into the weave of Fate, immutable and firm. Whether the people know of their eventual destiny is of no consequence. Fate cannot be denied.
Or so it was thought. The world is shifting.
After centuries of the world spinning on its axis, there is a change in the air. The plants can feel it and they would speak of it, were they able to talk. The rocks can sense it and they would grumble about it, should they be capable of understanding what it is. The seas and the winds can perceive it, and they would carry the news if only they had voices to use. I am Awake.
And though its effects are long lasting, this shift is invisible for those that would be most affected by this change – like a sudden summer storm, it is only when it's already pouring that we recognize the shift in the weather. I can see You.
Even now, the first signs of this momentous change can already be felt. Magic, the wondrous gift available only to a scant few, has surged within the mundane races after centuries lying dormant in their hearts and their minds. Though the elves had been stumped at first at the sudden appearance of magical potential in the human races, it was a development that could not be denied and it would not be contained, either. I can taste your curiosity.
As the new Age of Arcana began its first steps in the spring of 2031 NW (New World), magic in the world grew more potent, as if a slothful beast had finally awoken at last. By now, little more than a couple centuries since the fact, it has spread rapidly over those races that had been previously thought to be utterly deadened to magic, like fire raging through a dry forest. The balance of power between the different people of Amalur has changed irreversibly and the elves are no longer the prime race in terms of magical potential, even if their outstanding legacy with it can't be denied. Your befuddlement.
This circle is turning.
Whether the appearance of magic in the human races is the sign of a more profound change waiting yet to happen, no one knows. In truth, this is hardly a topic that would interest many people outside of academics, such as those from Adessa's Basilica Gnostra or the wise people of Rathir's Scholia Arcana. Can you not feel it in the air?
No indeed, it is now 2238 NW now and the Crystal War that has been raging for well over ten years now is at the forefront of everyone's minds more than anything else. It is a war between mortal and immortal races, a war of survival. The Tuatha Deohn, a fanatical sect of Winter Fae that has taken over the entirety of their Winter Court, are hellbent on exterminating the mortal races. I need your help.
It is not a war for resources or land, but rather, a war to exterminate the impure, the mortal filth. A holy crusade, called by their so-called Mountain God. I aM BrOkEn.
There are only a few that can see the corruption in the east for what it truly is, and none of them are in a position to do anything about it. Fate is not kind, or perhaps it would be better to say it is unkind in its cold apathy. Can you not hear my voice in the winds? Read my words on the stones?
Long have the Alfar led the war against the fanatical Tuatha in the east, supported by their Almain and Varani allies, the human races. Though the war has entered into a bloody stalemate, many can't help but wonder how long will it last. You look, but you do not see.
Amalur stands on the precipice of change. A precarious balance that could easily fall on either side and in the center of all, the Faelands. LiStEN tO mE!
However, none of this worries your mind. Indeed, these world-shattering dangers couldn't be further from your mind, because you have more pressing matters to worry about, isn't that right? No matter, I will come to You.
After all, you:
(Pick one)
[] have currently no idea who you are. Family, friends, job, hopes and dreams - your entire past and everything that you were before is gone, clouded and blank to you… and though you try your hardest, nothing comes to mind. In its place, you only have the mystery of your own existence – brought back from Belen's cold embrace of death and outside of Fate's grasp. If nothing else, this mystery gives you a purpose, a goal to work towards. Someone must know or understand how this has happened to you. You want answers. You will find them.
[] have been sealed away for centuries. Your prison is not an actual cell – it has no bars, no ceiling, no floor and no walls. You are each current of air in this stale nothingness, dark and unnerving. You are each strand of thought, fragmented and scattered into single motes. And yet, a very small core of you remains, unquenched by the lack of voice or thought. You will scream only when you have escaped. A single word is engraved with fire on the remains of your conscience. Freedom.
[] have your hands full overseeing operations all across the Faelands. The Crystal War continues to leave its marks on your people and you can't help but wonder whether the end will be a favorable one. Such grim thoughts are more and more frequent, yet fresh rookies too eager for glory keep being sent to support the Alfar army in the meat grinder that is the Klurikon warfront. They are sent to die on your orders. Blood and honor, armed for battle and bought with coin.
[] are no one that people would bother to know. There are no deeds to your name and few possessions to call your own. In truth, you are one single soul of the countless that reside in the Faelands, of little worth in the grand scale of things. You are untested, unproven, but those like you often hold potential yet to be untapped. It remains to be seen whether that potential will be realized… or if you will fade away into the dark, forgotten and unmourned by history. Remember my name. Remember Argul. Hello all! This is a quest set in Amalur, the world of Kingdoms of Amalur: Reckoning (and Re-Reckoning, as of September of this year). The game has always been a bit of a hidden gem to me and I thought it'd be cool to have a quest using this particular sandbox.
With that said, there are some caveats that you might want to know. Full disclosure, this is my first time running a quest and I have been away from the site (SV) for quite a bit, so don't be surprised if I make mistakes. I expect things like balance will be something that needs to be revised from time to time, we'll see.
Of course, I encourage you all to give me feedback on how I'm running the quest, I want to make it enjoyable for me, but also for you. With some luck, I won't fuck up too badly.
Given this is not really a popular setting like Harry Potter, Elder Scrolls, Worm or other works of the same caliber, I don't expect a huge turnout of people, but hopefully we can get some interest going. We'll see!
In an attempt to broaden the player base I decided to host the quest both on SB and SV. I will post a link to either thread once it's all set up.
Name: Ciara (no surname known or decided). Race: Dokkalfar Gender: Female (currently possessing a Dokkalfar man). Patron: ??? Wealth: 70 gold coins.
Level 1
EXP: 85/150
Health (HP): 100/100 Armor: ??? Mana: 85/100
Bio: You are a complete stranger to yourself. You have seen your own face, but there is little familiarity in its feminine shape. You have spent an unknown amount of time trapped in an endless void where thought was scarce and your sense of self regularly ripped into shreds. Though you have managed to escape, you have forgotten yourself. Having woken up in a strange, unfamiliar ruin, you've realized your escape also meant taking over the body of someone else, a man of your own species.
Acquaintances:
Kathryn Vuldast: An Almain woman you met in a little strange town built in the middle of nowhere, suspended in time. Somewhat stern in her demeanor, she has helped you take your first step to rebuild your identity after escaping the void. You don't know if she's still alive after the entire place imploded in itself, though. Relationship: Neutral.
Skills and Abilities
Magic
Whirlwind
A strong gust of wind that when maxed has a chance to knock back enemies, nullifying their attacks turn. [1/3]
Finesse
???
Might
???
Skills (See Mechanics post for the benefits):
Subterfuge: Lvl. 2 (Racial bonus).
Speechcraft: Lvl. 1 (Racial bonus).
Warding: Lvl. 1 (Racial bonus).
Abilities:
None as of yet.
Inventory:
Crude wooden staff [Weapon - Imbued with Fire Element].
The quest will have a mixed focus between narrative and rolls. While I don't want to to be a hardcore "You rolled a nat 1, you're ded" guy, I do want to introduce a bit of randomness through rolls, mostly through battles. Unless you guys fuck up quite badly on plans/choices (a la Stab yourself in the heart for more power) and rolls fuck you over really hard, you'll have a chance to bounce back from most failures.
That doesn't mean you can't die however, so keep that in mind when you try to go full Leeroy Jenkins on a room full of hostile Jottun almost double your height and carrying hammers whose shaft is about as thick as your torso. Try to work with a bit of common sense, is all I'm saying.
Rolls will be handled with a 1d100 + modifier(s) when applicable. This 1d100 is the baseline for a basic attack. Some spells might have additional dies added to the basic one, especially the stronger ones or those with a multi-hit.
STATS
You have three main things to keep track of. First, the usual HP and Magic bars. These will come into play during combat, but they might also be relevant in other instances.
Second, Skills and Abilities, which are explained in detail within their respective spoilered sections.
The Skills sheet covers the level of expertise on some of the general fields of study and practice that exist in Amalur. Many are ways of life in one way or another.
The races of Amalur have, through their long-chronicled history, excelled in some of these fields, to the point it has become a sort of early start for many. These are racial skills bonuses, detailed below.
Alchemy is the ability to harvest mystical reagents from the land and combine them to create powerful arcane potions.
Levels:
1: Failed experiments of potions no longer prove to be a safety hazard… unless you want them to be, of course.
2: +5 to Alchemy rolls.
3: You can now create potions with three reagents.
4: Your understanding of alchemy allows you to increase the effectiveness of restorative potions you ingest.
5: +10 to Alchemy rolls. Your manipulation of poisons and your understanding of how they work also grants you a small resistance to deadly substances.
6: You can now create potions with four reagents.
7: The bombs you use are now more effective.
8: Constant experimentation has given you enough insight to have a chance to nullify completely poisons in your system.
9: Your understanding of alchemical processes of the body allows you to enter a super heightened state of awareness when near death as a last ditch effort to survive to see another day at the cost of penalties in the next battle.
10: +15 to Alchemy rolls.
The art of creating different types of equipment, be they weapons or armor.
Levels:
1: You no longer use more than one kit to repair particularly complex or valuable equipment.
2: +5 to Smithing rolls, can now use up to three components when creating equipment.
3: You can now salvage Infrequent equipment for components.
4: You can now use up to four components when creating equipment.
5: +10 to Smithing rolls. Autosuccess when creating Novice equipment.
6: You can now salvage Rare equipment. You can now extend the lifespan of your repair kits to two pieces of equipment.
7: You can now use gems when creating equipment.
8: Autosuccess when creating Adept equipment.
9: You can apply a mastercrafted bonus when creating equipment.
10: +15 to Smithing rolls. Autosuccess when creating Master equipment.
The art of creating valuable gems through the refinement of shards. These gems can improve your equipment.
1: Increased chance of finding better quality shards when exploring the world.
2: +5 to Sagecrafting rolls.
3: You can now combine two shards of the same quality to gain one of the next highest quality.
4: Increased chance of finding better quality shards when exploring the world.
5: +10 to Sagecrafting rolls
6: You can now use pristine shards to create gems.
7: You can remove gems socketed into equipment by yourself at any Sagecraft workbench at the cost of having to choose between the gems or the equipment
8: Increased chance of finding better quality shards when exploring the world.
9: You can remove gems socketed into equipment by yourself and at no penalty at any Sagecraft workbench.
10: +15 to Sagecrafting rolls.
The arcane art of creating protective wards over an object or a place, as well as the knowledge on how to disrupt or remove them.
Levels:
1: You can now set up and dispel crude wards.
2: +5 to warding and dispelling rolls
3: You can now set up and dispel inexperienced wards
4: You can dispel weak enchantments cast on people. Stronger enchantments can be somewhat lessened, though not removed entirely.
5:+10 to warding and dispelling rolls.
6: You can dispel strong enchantments cast on people
7: You can now set up and dispel expert wards.
8: Reduces the potency of maluses afflicted by failed dispellings.
9: You can now set up and dispel master wards.
10: +15 to warding and dispelling rolls.
Your awareness of the world that surrounds you and all the secrets and threats hidden therein.
Levels:
1: Increased chance of finding loot of higher quality when exploring the world
2: +5 to awareness rolls to avoid ambushes and similar situations. +5 to perception rolls when characters lie to you.
3: +25% amount of gold found throughout the world.
4: You can spot and safely disarm traps. Adds a 1d200 to rolls for gold amount found around the world.
5: You can now detect hidden magical wards placed all over the world. Dispelling them is another matter altogether, though…
6: Increased chance of finding loot of higher quality when exploring the world. Adds a 1d300 to rolls for gold found in the world.
7: +50% amount of gold found throughout the world. +10 to awareness rolls to avoid ambushes and similar situations. +10 to perception rolls when characters lie to you.
8: Disarmed traps can now be salvaged for components.
9: Increased chance of finding loot of higher quality when exploring the world.
10: +15 to awareness rolls to avoid ambushes and similar situations. +15 to perception rolls when characters lie to you.
The merchant's art, the bartering of goods for coin or favors. An entrepreneur would certainly need a skill like this one.
Levels:
1: Improves buy and sell values from vendors.
2: +5 to rolls involving economic operations.
3: Increased chance of vendors selling Infrequent equipment.
4: Improves buy and sell values from vendors
5: +10 to rolls involving economic operations.
6: Improves buy and sell values from vendors.
7: Increased chance of vendors selling Rare equipment.
8: +15 to rolls involving economic operations.
9: Chance of vendors selling Epic equipment.
10: Small chance of vendors selling One-of-a-kind equipment pieces.
The skill of subversion, sowing strife unseen and undetected. Lies, sneaking, robbery… the skills of a thief.
Levels:
1: +5 to stealth rolls.
2: +5 to lockpicking rolls.
3: Slightly less chance of people noticing you when being robbed of their goods.
4: Your lies are now more believable in your bullshitting. +5 to rolls when trying to Lie
5: . You can now forge copies of nearly all documents that you find, given enough time. At least, everything that isn't touched by magic, mind you…
6: +10 to stealth rolls.
7: +10 to lockpicking rolls.
8: You are now more proficient trying to rob people blind. Your lies are now more believable in your bullshitting. +10 to rolls when trying to Lie.
9: +15 to stealth rolls
10: +15 to lockpicking rolls
A wink and a smile. Good orators know that sometimes, words can be more cutting or persuasive than simple steel.
Levels:
1: Bribe costs for crime if caught are decreased 10%.
2: You gain +5 to persuasion rolls.
3: You gain +5 to intimidation attempts.
4: You can now haggle with merchants for a better price on their products.
5: Bribe costs for crime are decreased 15%.
6: You gain +10 to intimidation attempts.
7: You gain a +10 bonus to persuasion rolls.
8: Bribe costs for crime are decreased 20%.
9: You gain +15 to intimidation attempts.
10: You gain a +15 bonus to persuasion rolls.
Abilities are combat talents, both active and passive, that can be learned through leveling up the MC. Most, if not all, fall under one of the three main branches (Might, Sorcery and Finesse) and while they are most often used in battle, that doesn't mean they can't have useful or interesting applications outside of it.
You will be able to put your Ability points into a single branch and specialize into it or diversify a bit and develop into a polivalent, Jack-of-all trades character.
Putting even a single point into a particular ability will unlock it (once you have the requirements for it), but they all can be further improved when spending additional points into them.
List of Abilities
Tier 1
Brutal Weaponry I: Your knowledge over Might-based weapons grows, unlocking new moves with them. [0/3] Passive.
Longsword Mastery: Your increasing mastery of the sword gives you an edge against enemies when using this weapon. [0/6 - +5 using swords when Maxed]
Hammer Mastery: Your increasing mastery of the hammer gives you an edge against enemies when using this weapon. [0/6 - +5 using hammers when Maxed]
Skillful Defense: Adds a flat number to the shield Armor rating. [0/5] Passive
Tier 2
Brutal Weaponry II: Your knowledge over Might-based weapons grows, unlocking new moves with them and granting a +5 to using Might-based weapons (Longswords, Greatswords and Hammers). [0/3] Passive, requires BW I.
Greatsword Mastery: Your increasing mastery of the greatsword gives you an edge against enemies when using this weapon. [0/6 - +5 using greatswords when Maxed] Passive
Adrenaline Surge: an ability where when the character's health runs below 25%, the character gets a short burst of extra health and a greatly increased damage output. [0/5] Passive. Cooldown: only 1 per battle.
Hardy Constitution: ability that upgrades your overall health and elemental defenses. [0/6] Passive
Quake: Earth-based spell that can be linked into a chain of three attacks. AOE. [0/5] Active.
Tier 3
Concussive Force: Stunned enemies receive much more damage. [0/5] Passive.
Aftershock: Increases the damage from Quake and grants a chance to stun. AOE. [0/5] Passive Upgrade, requires Quake.
Relentless Assault: At the cost of taking more damage, the user pursues one enemy single mindedly, ignoring a percentage of their defense roll. [0/6] Active.
Power Strike: When under the effects of Adrenaline Surge, there's a greater chance of inflicting critical strikes. [0/5] Passive Upgrade, requires Adrenaline Surge.
Tier 4
Brutal Weaponry III: Your mastery over Might-based weapons grows, unlocking new moves. [0/3] Passive, requires BW II.
Bulwark: ability causing any enemy attacking the PC to have a percent chance to be stunned. This only applies to melee attacks. [0/5] Passive
Battle Frenzy: The character is put into a berserker rage for a short period of time, dealing greater amounts of damage for a turn. When maxed, it's upgraded to 3 turns. [0/5] Active
Vengeance: When using it, there's a small chance of reflecting a percentage of damage received back to enemies. [0/6] Passive Upgrade, requires Relentless Assault.
Tier 5
Brutal Weaponry IV: Your knowledge over Might-based weapons has grown to the point of near-mastery, unlocking new moves with them and granting a +5 to using Might-based weapons (Longswords, Greatswords and Hammers). [0/3] Passive, requires BW III.
Stoneskin: When using Battle Frenzy, this ability grants additional resistance to physical attacks. [0/5] Passive Upgrade, requires Battle Frenzy.
Bloodlust: When using it, there's a small chance of gaining HP with each attack. [0/6] Passive Upgrade, requires Relentless Assault, Vengeance.
War Cry: A powerful cry that lowers damage output of all nearby enemies for an entire round. [0/5] Active.
Tier 6
Celerity: Upgrade to Battle Frenzy. When maxed, the PC will always go first in combat turns when using Battle Frenzy. [0/3] Passive Upgrade, requires Battle Frenzy, Stoneskin.
Wrath: Jumping skyward, the PC slams down onto the ground with a powerful collision that damages enemies in an AOE.
Terror: Upgrade to War Cry. When used, there is a chance for enemies to flee from battle. [0/6] Passive Upgrade, requires War Cry.
Tier I
Arcane Weaponry I: Your knowledge of arcane weapons grows, unlocking new moves with them. [0/3] Passive.
Sceptre Mastery: Your increasing mastery of the sceptres gives you an edge against enemies when using this weapon. [0/6 - +5 using sceptres when Maxed] Passive
Staff Mastery: Your increasing mastery of the staves gives you an edge against enemies when using this weapon. [0/6 - +5 using staves when Maxed] Passive
Storm Bolt: A spell that launches a burst of electrical energy that deals Lightning damage. It can stun enemies at higher levels. [0/6] Active. No cooldown.
Tier II
Arcane Weaponry II: Your knowledge of arcane weapons grows yet again, unlocking new moves with them and granting a +5 to using Sorcery-based weapons (Staves, Sceptres and Chakrams). [0/3] Passive, requires AW I.
Chakram Mastery: Your increasing mastery of the chakrams gives you an edge against enemies when using this weapon. [0/6 - +5 using chakrams when Maxed] Passive
Sphere of Protection: An ability that creates a magical barrier that blocks a percentage of damage from all incoming attacks. [0/6] Sustained - cost: 30% of maximum mana.
Mark of Flame: An ability that allows the character to tag nearby enemies with a mark of fire. When activated, the mark creates a fiery explosion. The number of enemies tagged increases with higher levels. Can apply Burning effect. [0/5] Active. Up to 3 enemies tagged when maxed. No cooldown.
Conservative Casting: A rigorous training with mana and arcane technique has allowed you to spend less mana when powering your spells. [0/5] Passive.
Tier III
Summon Faer Gorta: Use magic to create a Faer Gorta construct that will fight by your side and divert enemy attention from you. Higher levels increase the duration of the spell before breaking down. [0/6] Active.
Healing Surge: Your magic knits together flesh and bone, healing your wounds. [0/5] Active.
Chain Lightning: Increases the potency of Storm Bolt. [0/5] Passive, requires Storm Bolt.
Ice Barrage: ability that sends shards of ice into the air and crashing down onto enemies. Ice Barrage causes Freezing for 1 turn. [0/5] Active. No cooldown.
Tier IV
Arcane Weaponry III: Your knowledge of arcane weapons grows, unlocking new moves with them. [0/3] Passive, requires AW II.
Transference: ability that causes the attacks of a summoned Faer Gorta to siphon health from enemies and return it to the PC. [0/5] Passive Upgrade, requires Faer Gorta.
Sphere of Reprisal: when Sphere of Protection is cast, it also creates small magical orbs that deal damage when they hit enemies. [0/5] Passive Upgrade, requires Sphere of Protection.
Smolder: Increases Burning damage and Mark of Flame damage. [0/5] Passive, requires Mark of Flame.
Frostshackle: Increases Ice Barrage damage. Extends Duration of Freezing effect up to 3 turns. [0/5] Passive, requires Ice Barrage.
Tier V
Arcane Weaponry IV: Your knowledge of arcane weapons has grown to the point of near-mastery, unlocking new moves with them and granting a +5 to using Sorcery-based weapons (Staves, Sceptres and Chakrams). [0/3] Passive, requires AW III.
Masterful Construction: Summoned Faer Gorta now have the chance to inflict critical strikes. [0/5] Passive Upgrade, requires Faer Gorta.
Elemental Rage: A multiple-attack spell that combines the three main magics, Lightning, Fire and Frost, into a chain attack combination. [0/5] Active. Cooldown: 2 turns.
Tempest: The final stage of Storm Bolt, a hail of powerful lightning Summoned from the heavens to smite all nearby enemies. AOE spell. [0/5] Active, requires Storm Bolt and Chain Lightning. Cooldown: 3 turns.
Tier VI
Sphere of Retribution: Increases the damage of the magical orbs and has a chance of knocking them back, interrupting their actions. [0/5] Passive Upgrade, requires Sphere of Protection and Sphere of Reprisal.
Meteor: Calls large, scorching hot meteorite from the sky to blow everything to smithereens. AOE spell. [0/5] Active, requires Mark of Flame and Smolder. Cooldown: 4 turns.
Winter's Embrace: A hailstorm of ice chunks and shards that strikes everything that isn't the magic caster in a radius. AOE spell. [0/5] Active, requires Ice Barrage and Frostshackle. Cooldown: 4 turns.
Tier I
Precise Weaponry: Your knowledge of Finesse-based weapons grows, unlocking new moves with them. [0/3] Passive.
Dagger Mastery: Your increasing mastery of the daggers gives you an edge against enemies when using this weapon. [0/6 - +5 using daggers when Maxed] Passive.
Longbow Mastery: Your increasing mastery of the bow gives you an edge against enemies when using this weapon. [0/6 - +5 using a longbow when Maxed] Passive.
Shadow Flare: A burst of shadow magic that knocks back enemies, inflicting a malus on their next immediate attack. At max level, the shadow magic blinds them slightly, increasing the malus. [0/5] Active.
Assassin's Art: The art of killing people deader than dead. [0/4] Passive. Grants a +20 to assassination rolls when maxed.
Tier II
Precise Weaponry II: Your knowledge of Finesse-based weapons grows, unlocking new moves with them and adding a +5 to attack rolls when using these weapons (Longbow, Daggers and faeblades). [0/3] Passive. Requires Precise Weaponry I.
Envenomed Edge: Adds a small Poison damage on top of a regular damage roll. Has a 15% chance to inflict Poison. [0/6] Sustained.
Frost Trap: Places up to four Ice-based traps around the battlefield. Can inflict Ice. [0/4] Active. This ability uses 4d10 to roll for damage. When maxed, it uses 6d10.
Faeblade Mastery: Your increasing mastery of the faeblades gives you an edge against enemies when using this weapon. [0/6 - +5 using faeblades when Maxed] Passive.
Drawpower: Your arrow shots now have the chance to ignore 5% of a defense roll/armor. [0/5] Passive Upgrade, can be maxed to 25%. Requires Longbow Mastery.
Tier III
Scattershot: You can now fire multiple arrows at once. Up to three arrows, each consecutive arrow deals less damage than the previous one. [0/5] Passive, requires Drawpower.
Inoculation: Increases your resistance to Poisonous attacks and your immunity to Poison state. [0/5] Passive Upgrade, requires Venomed Edge.
Icy Explosion: Improves your Frost Traps, giving you a chance to stun enemies with them and increasing the damage done by them. [0/5] Passive Upgrade, requires Frost Traps.
Lunge: Quick lunge that puts the user behind the enemy's back. Small base damage, grants a +20 to attack rolls next turn. [0/5] Active. Cooldown: 1 turn.
Tier IV
Precise Weaponry III: Your knowledge of Finesse-based weapons grows, unlocking new moves with them. [0/3] Passive. Requires Precise Weaponry II. [0/3]
Smoke Bomb: A smoke bomb that blinds and stuns enemies around you. You gain a +50% damage on the next attack on an enemy. [0/4] Active.
Barbed Arrows: Increases the damage dealt by Arrow Storm. Has also a chance to inflict Bleeding. [0/5] Passive Upgrade, requires Scattershot.
Enduring Agony: Increases the damage of Shadow Flare. Also increases the duration of Bleeding and Poison effects on enemies. [0/5] Passive Upgrade, requires Shadow Flare.
Blade Honing: Increases the critical damage of all your bladed weapons. [0/5] Sustained, -15% of current mana pool.
Tier V
Precise Weaponry IV: Your knowledge of Finesse-based weapons has grown to the point of near-mastery, unlocking new moves with them and adding a +5 to attack rolls when using these weapons (Longbow, Daggers and faeblades). [0/3] Passive. Requires Precise Weaponry III.
Poison Bomb: Smoke bomb now has a chance to inflict Poison status on enemies. [0/4] Passive Upgrade, requires Smoke bomb.
Arrow Storm: Rains death from above on enemies. AOE. [0/3] Active. This ability adds a 1d100 to the attack roll for each level upgraded. Requires Barbed Arrows. Cooldown: 3 turns.
Mysterious Toxins: The amount of deadly mixtures in poisoned results in the chance of venomous fumes to form upon their deaths, infecting others. [0/5] Passive Upgrade, requires Innoculation.
Tier VI
Gambit: The user throws 7 small bombs in an area of effect, knocking the enemies into the air. [0/6]. Active. Base bombs run on 3d6 for damage. Each upgrade level adds 2 bombs and a 1d6 to each bomb damage roll. Cooldown: 3 turns.
Paralytic Poisons: Your poisons now have thr chance to stun your enemies. [0/4] Passive Upgrade, requires Mysterious Toxins.
Execution: Bleeding enemies receive more damage from attacks. [0/5] Passive.
Just like in the game, this game has a wide range of loot that you might be able to find, buy and/or steal.
Weapons
There's not much of note to mention about weapons. Just 2 things right now:
Depending on how your weapon is wielded (one hand or two), certain options will be blocked to you - mostly, the ability to carry a physical shield with you.
Some weapons might be imbued with an element. Most enemies are weak to a particular element, giving you a slight edge when facing them.
Armor
Armor affects how strong a hit (or repeated weak ones) you can take before your armor breaks down and stops offering sufficient protection. It's basically an additional HP bar but with a different name: if a Troll nails you with a bitchslap of 80 damage and your total armor rating only has a 50 rating, it will break and you'll take 30 points of damage. The more total armor you have, the easier it'll be for you to tank blows.
Here, mirroring the game, you'll have about five to six slots for armor: Head, Chest, Arms, Legs, Feet and Shield. Some armor, like mage robes, cover both chest and legs. Your total Armor rating comes from the sum of these pieces.
There are three types of armor: Metal, Cloth and Hide, ultimately suited to the three overall playstyles - warrior, mage and rogue.
Metal offers the most protection of the three, but for most people, it's too noisy to use for sneaky actions. Each piece of metal armor adds a -5 malus to sneak rolls.
Cloth offers the least protection of the three, but as a tradeoff, there's a small bonus to block/dodge rolls and your mana regenerates faster. Since cloth can also be a bit noisy from time to time, each group of 2 pieces of cloth armor adds a -5 malus to sneak rolls.
Hide the armor meant for rogues, it offers a balanced amount of protection when compared to metal or cloth and is especially suited for people trying to sneak into places. For each group of 2 pieces of hide armor, you gain a +5 to sneak rolls.
Like in other instances, most combat will run on a 1d100 + appropriate modifiers. However, in combat, other factors are also taken into account, like the armor you wear, whether you were successfully ambushed, if you have support… stuff like that.
Some abilities might use different dice, like 2d6, for example. These are used to roll for damage outside your own ability, like bombs, or checking how many people you hit with an AOE spell. Additionally, some abilities that have additional attacks will have additional 1d100 added to the attack.
The game also uses different kinds of DoTs: Burning, Poison, Bleeding and Freezing.
Burning: simple DoT. Chance of inflicting Panicked.
Poison: adds a -5 to attack rolls for 1 turn. The effectiveness of restorative potions are halved for the duration of the effect.
Bleeding: increases damage taken for 1 turn.
Freezing: reduces initiative speed on combat rolls.
I'm not going to be really stringy with XP. Successful actions in combat will earn a bit of XP, winning a battle will give you a slightly bigger amount of XP, successful actions outside of combat (like getting a success for a sneak roll to get into a watched location for example) will also give you a small XP increase.
Obviously, completing missions will be the main way to gain big amounts of XP at a time.
Each level up, you will earn 1 Skill Point and 3 Ability Points. These points can be spent however you wish or you can bank them for later if you consider it best. These points CAN NOT be spent mid-combat.
The events of this quest are set in Amalur's Age of Arcana, little more than a few paragraphs or footnotes in the millennia-long history of Amalur. This is a world of fantasy, where ancient secrets and wondrous portents share space with the all too often flaws and failures of both the mortal and immortal races.
The most noteworthy detail that distinguishes the world of Amalur is Fate. This all-encompassing concept is an immutable truth that affects all living beings of Amalur. Whether it is defeat or victory, life or death… all decisions will inevitably lead to a predetermined outcome, a Fate fixed in the weave of the universe. Nothing and no one can hope to change their Fate.
Amalur is divided into two main, large continents, with smaller islands and land masses dotted around them. These two main continents are known as Alfaria to the west and Fortenmar to the east, separated by the Phorian Strait and Hellegat Cauldron.
Three smaller land masses surround the edges of the known world. Northwest of Alfaria, Icewall Peaks, the Alfar's original birthplace; to the south and facing both Alfaria and Fortenmar, The Greater Appelas, and finally, the Bhoros Island, southwest of Alfaria..
Most of the races that live in Amalur inhabit Alfaria and Fortenmar, though there are obviously settlements and a presence in other areas. There is one important distinction to be made about the races of Amalur, as they can be separated into mortal and immortal.
The first are the majority of the Amalur races. While there are many, five of them are particularly noteworthy: the first two are the most prominent races of elves known as Dokkalfar and Ljosalfar. Long ago, they were one people known as Alfar but ideological differences split them apart after their long suffering at the hands of the cruel Durek. The ones that would become Dokkalfar wanted revenge, while the ones that would be known as Ljosalfar only wished to heal in peace. Regardless, they still hold strong bonds of kinship between them and consider each other close cousins.
Next, we have the two more prominent races of humans in Amalur, the Almain and the Varani. The first have a long tradition of military activity and their kingdom is known for its imperialistic leanings. A warlike and religious people, the Almain encompass humankind both culturally and traditionally. The Almain claim to be the descendants of the Mitharans, servants of the Erathi, a mysterious race of magical beings dedicated to Mitharu, the Lord of Order.
The Varani are the descendants of people that left the traditional lands of the Almain people in Southern Alfaria, thus sharing common ancestry with current Almain. They left for the high seas of the north and quickly became a sea-faring people, as frequently pirates and mercenaries as they are merchants. Organized into loose clans, many seek to bring them into their sphere of influence, but the Varani have proven stubbornly set in rejecting any form of governance that isn't their own.
Finally, the fifth race is that of the gnomes. A very socially stratified race, gnomes are an industrious people with a pragmatic and practical approach to both mysteries and problems alike. Dedicated to the pursuit and unraveling of the world's secrets, the gnomes have only recently founded Adessa, their first established capital to serve as a focal point of knowledge and learning in Amalur. They bestow wondrous gifts of knowledge, medicine, and magic to befriend the other kingdoms, yet seldom reveal their plans or intentions to outsiders.
As stated before, there are other races, like the Apotharni, the Crymbil, the Hironar or the Massariol, but while they have a presence in the Faelands, they do not have the degree of representation the other races have in the region.
On the other hand, there is only a single race that can be considered immortal that still walks the world, the Fae. They call home the northeastern side of Alfaria and the northwestern side of Fortenmar home, in a region aptly known as the Faelands.
Fae are beings of pure magic given physical form and as such, they have a deep connection to the nature of the world, linked inextricably to its magic.However, this also leads to them being seen as a queer people to mortal folk, for Fae have no real vision of concepts like time or death like they do. Their existence revolves around the Great Cycle, somewhat similar to the passing of seasons as mortals would understand it.
When a Fae dies, their essence is recycled and sent to Esharra, the sacred plane of the Fae straddling the physical realm and the magical one. From Esharra, the deceased Fae is eventually reborn again into the world, sooner or later. While it is unclear if these reborn Fae retain the memories of their previous incarnations, most seem to reprise the roles they had led in previous lives. These roles are known as the Telling, the purpose of their existence. It is not like a job as mortals understand, but rather, their very nature.
The most well-known Fae are those of the Summer and Winter Courts, but Boggarts, Brownies, Sprites, Barghests, Leanashes, Crudoks… many wild beasts are also considered to be Fae. In their case, wild ones, but still part of the Great Cycle in one way or another.
However, while it's true that the Fae are intrinsically tied to the magic of the world, their very own way of life has made them inflexible and near deaf to change.
During the Age of Arcana, magic has bloomed in the human races, growing in potency as decades pass and more and more humans are born with the gift of magic. This has evened the field for Almain and Varani alike, as they were not capable of producing magic of any kind before, unlike the Alfar and the gnomes, but they still have to contend with the centuries or even millenia worth of a headstart the other races have on them.
While magic surges in the human races, the Fae have noted a steady decline in the magics that affect them. All can feel it, in one way or another, but most are content to lie to themselves and few recognize the signs for what they are. The Great Cycle has shifted. The time of the Fae is ending.
The current year is 2238 NW (New World) and for ten long years, the Crystal War has become the pervasive wraith that looms over most people living in the Faelands. A sect of violent Winter Fae has taken over the Winter Court with Gadflow, the Mad King, at the helm. Seeking to kill all the mortal races under the banner of Tirnoch, Gadflow's newfound god, the Tuatha Deohn have plunged the Faelands into war. The only reason they have not spread the war to the regions beyond the Faelands is mostly because the Alfar managed to stall them after years of being on the back foot.
Now, ten years into the conflict, both sides are locked into an uncomfortable stalemate that won't last forever.
You have been sealed away for centuries. Your prison is not an actual cell – it has no bars, no ceiling, no floor and no walls. You are each current of air in this stale nothingness, dark and unnerving. You are each strand of thought, fragmented and scattered into single motes. And yet, a very small core of you remains, unquenched by the lack of voice or thought. You will scream only when you have escaped. A single word is engraved with fire on the remains of your conscience. Freedom
Time. We take it for granted. It's a concept that serves as a compass. We use time as a tool to orient ourselves in the world - the past, the future... these are the labels we use to make sense of the universe, to remember the people that came before us and shaped the world. It's the certainty that regardless of what happens, there will be people after us, with their own dreams and worries. That the world will go on.
Time. It's such a fickle thing. Such an abstract concept, so important for people to know what day they are living in, what month, what year, what Age... Time is one of the foundations upon which people build their hopes and goals. Time will always be there. And yet, it's certainly an easy thing to lose track of.
-leas-
What do you do when days blur together? When the ticking of the clock starts to form a shapeless buzz that thrums in your ears, burrowing into your brain until it's the only thing you can hear?
-no-
What do you do when the only thing you can do is grasp at the edges of a mind that is no longer there? When the most you can hope for is cling to the shreds of what you were once? You were whole once before - you know this. You know it to be true. Some days, you can even convince yourself you aren't lying to yourself. Or is it some years? Some decades?
-so hard... think-
Thought is an illusion. A part of you wants to scream, but another is sobbing without no sound being uttered. There is no mouth for you to make sounds, after all. Would that you could borrow one, but there is only the dark and you in here. In the worst moments, there is only the dark. It's a titanic effort to piece yourself together each time you go under. Have you lost things when it happened? Things of yourself that you would miss if they were lost? You can't be sure. Would you realize it if it were so? You don't know.
It's a terrifying thought. When there's enough of you to be able to think, that is.
It would be so easy to give in. So, so easy. It'd be a matter of simply... letting go. Like going to sleep and closing your eyes with a smile. But each time the faint idea floats in the strands of your faded mind, whatever remains shudders and churns, outraged at the mere.... wait, outraged at what? The noose tightens around the shade of what you were and pulls. You scream, but there are no sounds in the void of your existence. There is no one to hear your halting pleas, strung together in a multitude of languages you barely remember.
It's so hard to think... So hard to be you.
Years pass. The noose loosens, allowing you a reprieve. It's a false one, you know it even though you don't know how.
No. No, you remember. You cannot give in. You will not give in. You will not lay down your arms and surrender your pitiful existence to the void. You will not fade away with a whimper that none will hear.
There are no screams of rage in the void. After all, there is no sound in the void. There is only the dark. And you.
Decades pass. The noose tightens. Is it decades? Perhaps it's days. The noose looses. It's so hard to tell by now. For all you know, this has been nothing but a second. After all, what are the lives of mortals if not mere blinks of the eye to the gods? For all you know, your torment has just begun.
There is no sky in this forsaken place, no starts to guide you home-no light to see your arms or your legs, there are no arms to touch your body or your face and you really, really want to do it but youcan'tandyoudon'twanttobeherebutyoucan'tleaveohwhywhycan'tileavethisplacepleaseletmeleavepleasepleaseidon'twanttostayherePLEASEPLEASE
The void shifts.
Something changes. There is no air in this void, but it churns all the same, screeching angrily in the absolute stillness of this place. The void feels like it's ripping itself apart and shards that were around you but weren't you come rushing to what is you but isn't you anymore. In the quiet void of nothingness, existence is birthed, dragged screaming and kicking into being. Time rushes through the cracks and you gasp for the first time in an eternity.
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock goes time. A shapeless thrum buzzing in your ears, one that you can finally hear again.
Light is cast into the void, erasing Nothing and imposing something else into its place. You can finally peer into the void and you scream.
'Can something replace another thing that was never there to begin with?' you wonder and it's such a ridiculous thought, such a disjointed question that makes you laugh. And then you cry, because it just dawned on you that this was the first coherent thought you've had since... since... since a long time ago.
You cry, because is that how your voice sounded like? You can scarcely remember... but you can, faintly.
You cry, because you can open your eyes and see the grass under your knees, you can touch its texture with your fingers. Wet grass, you realize, and the thought makes you smile. You can hear the rushing of water from a stream nearby and you can feel the slight breeze on your face, rustling dark locks of hair. You take a deep breath of air, registering the pleasing smell of wet grass.
Your smile widens.
You are free.
You rise to your feet, taking in your surroundings. You are in the middle of... a town square? There is a well -a well! You remember that word!- next to you, and houses surround the edges of the town square. Quaint little houses built with dark bricks and red tiled roofs. There are benches around the square and turning around you can see a bridge built over a river, where the sound of water comes from. A cobbled path loops around a big hill, where a waterfall pours forth water for the town.
It looks to be an peaceful town. Idyllic, even.
"But where is everyone?" you mutter, scanning your surroundings. The town is silent, seemingly devoid of life. The lights are on, but there is no faint bustle or other sounds of activity within. The only sounds you can hear are the rushing of the water and the whistling of the wind.
This... this feels like a facsimile. A copy suspended in time.
No sooner you come to this realization that a rough, cruel voice demands your attention. "Look! Another sacrifice for the Mountain God!"
You quickly turn to look towards the voice and you see a group of several people slowly walk from a narrow side street into the town square. They wear strange armor and weapons, crafted with a blood-red material that appears to be of a crystalline nature. A couple seem to be clad in ornate robes, decorated in flowing patterns that swirl and turn. Their cowls are emblazoned with a large, glowing blood-red gem.
The weapons, the armor... It's equipment unlike any you've seen before, but you can't deny the fact it might also be because you have lost that knowledge. It's... unsettling.
Chuckles erupt from the group, gripping their weapons with eagerness as they slowly fan out in front of you. "Filthy mortal, you will die alone here! We will cleanse the world from your rot!" one of them sneers.
'A woman,' you note, seeing the way she tightens her grip on the bow in her hands.
Many of them wear helmets, cowls or hods, but the few that don't reveal pale, grey-skinned faces adorned with cruel smiles. It's obvious they mean to kill you.
"I have survived hell. I won't die here," you simply state.
The archer snarls and it seems to be the signal needed for the battle to begin. The warriors advance on you, drawing their strange red swords. The few bowmen nock their arrows. The cowled men create bluish wards around them. Faint sounds of battle prickle at your ears, coming from behind you.
'Beyond the bridge?'
It doesn't matter. The warriors don't matter, the bowmen don't matter, their cowled friends don't matter.
You have survived hell and you won't die here.
You:
[] call forth a storm of lightning around you. Like a snap of thunder, you remember a time when you danced amidst fields of black clouds and booming thunders.
[] summon strong whirlwinds to aid you. Like a breeze on your face, you remember a time where you dreamed of flying far and wide across the lands.
[] conjure a hailstorm of ice. Like spikes in your heart, you remember the day you stopped being a child and took control of your House.
[] create fire out of nothing in your hands. Like a spark of life, you remember when you first summoned your magic for the first time.
The strange warriors are helpless around you. Though their looks were fierce, they crash and split like water against the rock that is your resolve. Your intent is sharpened into a focused point. Survival and victory are your goals and none of these fools will stand between you and them. They try, oh they do try, but there is little that they can do against you when you have unleashed the power that is at your fingertips.
But you are one, while they are many. Regardless of how many have fallen, more seem to come to face against you, pouring from the streets and the houses. In the end, is it a surprise that one of them would finally catch you unaware? The warrior slips under your guard, too focused on the cowled man throwing fireballs at you to pay attention.
"Feed the Cycle!" he yells and you only have enough time to curse as you turn around to face him. Even so, it's futile, you're not going to do it in time.
You rage in your head even as he thrusts his sword forward. It's impossible, you can't die like this, it can't end here!
'Not like this! I must-!'
The swordsman never finishes his attack, because:
[] an arrow pierces his head, killing him instantly.
[] a bolt of lightning slams into him and sends him crashing against another warrior.
[] a sword ruthlessly beheads him from behind.
It happens so fast you have to blink twice before you can even register the fact someone saved your life. Someone that has already jumped into the fray and is already drawing some attention away from yourself.
"What are you gawking at? Get back to it!" the figure snaps as they kick one of the cowled figures to the ground.
You don't even have time to get a good look at them because one of the grey-skinned warriors snarls, jumping into your view, and swings at you with a greatsword in an attempt to cleave you in half.
It's not enough and you quickly prevent him from ever trying that again. Before his body even reaches the ground, another replaces him. And another after her. And another. And another. They seem endless. But now that there is someone else fighting with you, the task doesn't seem so dauntless. On and on you fight.
And then, there are none.
The last enemy drops dead, screaming as his guts spill onto the ground before gurgling as a knife finds his throat.
It's a grisly scene, the one you find yourself in. Surrounded by bodies and with only the company of an unknown stranger.
Looking at them, you see how they take a long look at the bodies before turning to you. The stranger has a helmet on, but they quickly pull it out and place it under an arm, balanced on their hip. This lets you see their face for the first time and you see:
[] a female elf, with ashen, greyish skin and large pointed ears. There's a slight smirk tugging at her lips. A Dokkalfar, your mind whispers, just like you.
[] a male elf, with pale, bluish skin, fair hair and large pointed ears. Though sweaty, his face is calm and even. A Ljosalfar, your mind whispers, like her.
[] a male human, fair-skinned but with facial tattoos around his cheeks and forehead amd an ornate loop of gold around his right ear. A Varani, your mind whispers, raider scum.
[] a female human, bronze-skinned and tall with brown hair. There's a sternness to her demeanor. An Almain, your mind whispers, pompous warhawks.
"You... what is this place?" you ask, frowning as you look at the town. The entire area around you is rippling, shimmering unnaturally. "Where are we?"
"You shouldn't be here," the stranger mutters. "You're different - weren't the Tuatha supposed to be the test?"
Tuatha? Test?
"Nothing of this makes any sense!" you seethe, taking a step towards the stranger. "What is this place?!"
The stranger ignores you, looking at you intently as if it could give them the answers they seek.
"Who are you?"
This simple question stops you right in your tracks.
Who are you? Who are you, indeed. You have been so caught up in the moment, that you haven't had a second to stop and think. You breathe, letting the air fill your lungs. In. Out. In. Out.
The void can no longer have a hold of you.
Despite yourself, you shudder thinking of your hellish prison, but that's not important, is it? You... you can remember who you are. You can!
Do you, though?
[] "I am Ciara Sydanus, the Dark Empyrean! I will take back what is mine by blood and fire! And I will have my revenge!"
[] "I am Ciara Sydanus, the Empress of Erathell! I will take back what is mine by right of blood. And I will live again knowing that my enemies failed to destroy my people!"
[] (Lie) "I am Ciara Sydanus, the Empress of Erathell. My enemies imprisoned me because they sought to destroy my empire and my people. I will prove better than them."
[] "I am... I am... I-I cannot remember. I cannot remember who am I!"
The first and last votes relate directly to you, the MC, and how you view yourself. The second and third votes are meant to narrow down a NPC that will play a very important part in the game, either directly or indirectly. This is because the NPC is the game's PC.
As for the last vote, I wasn't sure whether to put the last option, the amnesiac one. It might be similar to the Fateless One situation, but the character does say that when encountered, so it feels appropriate. It gives you a bit more leeway in trying to decide how you will shape the MC's character, instead of making a snap decision.
[] summon strong whirlwinds to aid you. Like a breeze on your face, you remember a time where you dreamed of flying far and wide across the lands.
[] a sword ruthlessly beheads him from behind.
[] a female human, bronze-skinned and tall with brown hair. There's a sternness to her demeanor. An Almain, your mind whispers, pompous warhawks.
[] "I am... I am... I-I cannot remember. I cannot remember who am I!"
The words that had been about to spill from your mouth receive an early death as your mind screeches to halt. It had been a simple enough question, the one the human woman in front of you asked, but no words come from you as you try to find an answer.
"I can't- I can't remember my name!" you exclaim, your previously deep voice now sporting a very noticeable higher pitch.
A cold shiver trails down your spine as the horror of your situation sinks in. It's not just your name, however. Much as you try, nothing comes to you when you attempt to recall anything that made you who you were. You're sure there had been something once, but now, only a hollow pit remains where your memories should have been.
"I can't remember who I am. I can't remember anything!" you repeat with wide eyes, hands flying to grip your head.
"Calm down," the other woman quickly commands with a sharp voice the moment she sees you're starting to panic. Looking up from the ground, you can see the frown on her dirt-streaked face as she stares at you with wary bemusement. The perceived nonchalance in her demeanor ignites your fury in a way the grey-skinned thugs littering the streets didn't.
"How can I? My whole life is lost to me! Don't you dare tell me to calm down!" you snarl, taking a step forward. However, the other woman apparently hadn't dropped her guard, because she immediately hefts her shield and raises her sword, ready to strike you down if necessary.
You halt, but if looks could kill, you were sure she'd have gone into sudden combustion seconds ago.
"Getting yourself worked up isn't going to help you one bit, either. So do us both a favor and calm the fuck down." There's little heat in her words, only wariness at your explosive behavior, but her stance remains firm and without openings.
"Easy for you to say, you haven't lost everything that makes you you," you say with a growl. For a moment, you consider pressing the point, but you relent with a sigh. What's the point? As a deep weariness settles into your bones, you step back. Whatever fire fueled you during the fight with the grey-skinned thugs, it's long turned into mere embers.
The Almain woman scoffs, but regardless of her opinion, she stands down as well once she sees the fight's gone out of you. "You'd be surprised," she mutters as her eyes gain a far-away look for a moment. It passes quickly, however, and the wary, alert state from before returns to her features. Shifting on her spot, she points her sword downwards, but she pointedly doesn't sheathe her it. "Do you remember something, at least? Anything at all?"
"No!" you exclaim with obvious frustration. As much as you try, nothing comes back to you and the only reward for your efforts is the beginnings of a nasty headache for straining yourself in an attempt to force a memory, a face... something, to resurface. Even so, your denial is only a half-truth. There is something you do remember, but it's got nothing to do with who you were before your stay in the void.
Because of all the things you could have kept, it had to be the most recent memory that you have, the one of you trapped in a hellish prison and locked in permanent torture. You're not sure whether this is a bad joke or if you're the plaything of divine beings, but you'd rather not focus too much on the fact that your only clear memories are a lifetime of pain and your fragmented, confusing stay in the void.
Silently, the woman with brown hair takes a look at your surroundings. You can only guess at the thoughts running in her head. With the sounds from the fight having died down, the town square had fallen into that unnerving silence from before, an unnatural quietness that belied the town's true nature. Whatever this town is, it's not an actual place, that much you know. There's a humming in the air, almost too faint to pick up, but it's there if one strains their ears. And the air... the air shimmers sometimes, rippling as if the entire town was submerged in water.
The Almain ignores all of this, however - or at least, she makes sure to avoid showing it affects her in any way. Zeroing in on something behind you, she signals to it with a jerk of her head. "Come, follow me."
The words instantly put you on guard. "Why?" you question with a suspicious look, but she simply gives you a deadpan stare.
"I just saved your life. If I wanted you dead, I wouldn't have bothered killing that Tuatha," she says with a small shrug. Again with that word. Tuatha. It must be the name of the thugs that attacked you, but for all you wrack your brain trying to remember something, nothing comes when you think about the word. It's completely alien to you. What she says is true, though. She did save your life. Still, that doesn't necessarily mean the woman in front of you has your best intentions in mind. You're all too aware that there are worse things than death in this life.
"Tell me what you're planning first. I won't go anywhere until you do," you demand. It wouldn't work for someone that was actively seeking to do you harm, but if that were the case, you'd have more pressing problems to worry about.
"You're a paranoid woman, aren't you?" the Almain woman muses with a shake of her head. She quickly raises her hands in a placating manner when you narrow your eyes, however. "My apologies. I understand that this is likely very confusing for you. Look, behind me is a river. I'm not sure if this will work, because it's not a real one, but we might see if seeing your reflection triggers some memory of yourself."
"You think that will work?" you question with a healthy dose of skepticism.
"It could work. Better than nothing. You've got a better idea?"
You don't, you freely admit to yourself, and in truth, it's not a half-bad idea, either. Backing away a few paces, you slightly turn your body to the side to peer behind you. Just like the Almain said, there's the river beyond the town square, with the stone bridge built solidly over it and connecting the fields separated by the stream. You're not sure if it will work, but...
'Might as well try it.' Worst case scenario, nothing happens, but the potential benefits far outweighed the negatives.
"Very well... but don't try anything!" you warn with a glare. There's faint amusement in the other woman's eyes, but it's gone in an instant and she firmly nods, sheathing her sword. Noticing for first time, you realize she's clad in simple, but functional armor, tinted with sea-green coloration. Curiosity piqued, you look down at yourself to inspect for the first time the garments you wear. It's a set of stylish black robes, inlaid with golden threads on your bracers, the flare of your robe's tails and the pauldrons on your shoulders. Your robes appear to be made of extremely good quality.
"Come, let's go."
The river is not too far away, but you still have time to ask your new companion something that's been niggling at the back of your mind since she mentioned it."You said something about a test before. Do you know what this place is?" This is your most important question. You appeared in here out of the void. There had to be a reason for it, you are sure of it.
Helmet in her hands, the brown-haired woman glances at you from the corners of her eyes. "This... was supposed to be a test. A magical one, to measure my potential. I'm still trying to work out if you were part of it or not," she says.
A test? How ridiculous. Your thoughts must've been reflected on your face, because the Almain snorts. "It wouldn't have been my first choice, either. Still, it was a necessary evil."
You wanted to pry more into the matter, but you'd reached the river by this point and there was no sense on delaying this further. Slipping down onto the edges of the river, barely raised over the rushing water, you take a deep breath. There's no denying the trepidation you feel, the way your heart's bucking so fast it might jump out of your chest at any moment. What if you see your own reflection and there's no reaction? What if there is and you remember everything that you were before? What if you don't like who you were?
There's only one way to find out.
Steeling your resolve, you move forward, wading deeper into the water. Even standing in the middle of the river, the water only reaches your hips. You lean down with your eyes closed, feeling the cold water pass through you, through your clothes and seep into your bones. The water is chilly, but it's a welcome sensation. Shivering slightly, you finally open your eyes over the crystal clear water, staring at your own reflection.
Through the rippling water, your see the mane of dark locks of hair that crown your head, spilling over your shoulders. You can make out the vivid red of your lips, a splash of color in stark contrast with the paleness of your skin. Pointed ears, surrounded and protected by your dark hair. You're not completely sure with the slightly distorted reflection of yourself on the water, but you'd swear you also have dark green eyes.
At risk of sounding vain and conceited, you are a beautiful woman. You could be described as regal, even, because there's something in those eyes that peer back at you, in the vaguely slanted nose, in the full lips, that screams the fact you were someone once.
And yet, this is the first time seeing your face that you can consciously recall. There's no sense of familiarity. There's no sudden flash of memories searing themselves into your brain, slotting into place as they were meant to do. You know you're looking at your very own face, but it's like meeting a stranger for the first time.
You rise from the water slowly and you have to start taking deep breaths once more to stop yourself from hyperventilating into another panic attack. There's a deafening silence as the seconds pass and they turn into minutes. In the end, you make your way to the edge of the river and climb into the edge of the field, where the Almain woman was waiting. She says nothing, because there are no words to be said, because it's plain to see on your face that her idea failed.
"I'm sorry," she simply says after a moment.
"I am, too," you mutter. Your eyes look past the Almain woman towards the town, but they don't register it. For one moment, one glorious moment, you had hoped that...
"I'm not sure if you'll ever regain your memories... but you can't focus on that now. Whether you do or not, you still need to pick up the pieces and go on. It will be hard, but it must be done. All beginnings often start with a name. Our name is often the foundation on which we build who we are. Let us introduce ourselves, then. My name is Kathryn, Kathryn Vuldast. Might I know your name?"
Your name? Yes, you suppose you can give her a name.
"My name is:
[] Write-in
"Good. A name might not seem like much, but it's what it represents what's important. This is the beginning, your new foundation. Everything else will come in time, I'm sure."
They are strong words, but left adrift as you are, they offer a lifeline for you to hold onto. You desperately want to believe them, for it's the only spark of hope you have right now. And speaking of right now, the entire area starts shaking as if a slumbering giant started to wake up deep below ground.
"What's happening?!" you exclaim, flailing about in an attempt to regain your balance.
"I don't know! Grab onto something!" Kathryn yells as she rushes towards the town.
Cursing, you follow her, but you seriously doubt going into the town is going to help any. If anything, getting into one of the homes would be a bad idea - the roof might cave in on your heads! A loud, thunderous crack makes you look behind you and your eyes widen when you see the waterfall on the hill crack and shatter into a thousands shards of crystal, each with a piece of waterfall, still with water flowing on it. Dumbfounded, you stop, unable to react as the shards glitter for a moment before disintegrating into wisps of light.
"What the-?"
"Come on!" comes Kathryn's forceful voice next to you, before she shoves you forward towards the town.
"What do we do?! The entire place is coming down!" you yell over the wind. The gentle breeze that had caressed your face not that long ago was now a roaring wind that made hard to speak at a normal volume.
"How should I know?! I doubt this was part of the test!"
Just as you were about to retort something in reply, a wizened voice spoke up, somehow remaining intelligible over the wind's furious howling.
"...foreign presence... the Trial... initiate. ... hard... control. We ... attempting to... stabilization, but-"
"Who is that?!" you yelled. Had this been any other situation, you'd have been hard pressed not to feel some sense of mortification at the panic that was starting to bleed into your voice.
"The man presiding my Initiation Trial!"
"That tells me nothing, damnit!" you complain, but there's no time for anything else as you fall to your knees with a scream.
You can feel invisible hooks piercing you, burrowing into your arms and legs and pulling in each direction. Your scream is equal parts pain and terror, because you recognize this sensation - this horrible feeling of being split apart in shreds, uncaring of the result. The void is calling for you once more and it's determined to return you to your hellish prison. A black, gaping hole of Nothing opens up in front of your eyes and the fact that Kahtryn doesn't react at all while she's yelling at you means that she can't see the horror happening next to her.
No, no! This can't be how it ends for you, not now, not after you've tasted freedom for the first time in who knows for how long!
"I won't go back there! I will never go back to that hell! Never again! I will not!" you shriek, and your magic lashes out like a rabid, cornered animal. The hooks pulling you apart and dragging you towards Nothing still exist, but your magics surges within you like a tidal wave in an attempt to pull them out and drive them back.
Screaming as you are, you hardly notice how the area around is crackling as a razor-sharp whirlwind starts to form around your body. The town square, or whatever this place is, is splitting apart at an increased pace and the sky has started rippling violently, rumbling with ominous noises.
Kathryn is... somewhere, though you cannot hear her over the sounds of the world dying around you. For all you know, a part of your brain thinks, she might already be dead.
The tug-o'-war between the void hooks and your magic is a brutal and brief one. Unfortunately, it doesn't end in your favor. You can feel the hooks dragging you closer to the void again, to be forever more trapped in that hellish existence that you just escaped minutes ago. You can't go back. You will not go back!
"NO!"
In a last ditch effort, you redirect your magic outwards, grasping tendrils like greedy fingers. As you are rushed towards the void, you press beyond the confines of what you can see. Beyond the town square, beyond the rippling sky, beyond the disintegrated waterfall... you find it.
Six sparks of life. There! Hadn't Kathryn said someone was presiding her Initiation Trial, whatever that was? This must be them, the people conducting this trial! This is it! Your salvation, so close you can almost grasp it!
Your next actions are driven purely by raw, crazed instinct. Moving towards the two sparks closest to you, you fling your magic in a desperate gambit to escape the void. You only have a split second to redirect most of your magic towards one of the sparks, even though a couple more are splashed by the ripples that your magic leaves in its careless wake.
The spark of life you went for is:
[] a red spark, shining with the warmth of fire within it. You get the impression of a Ljosalfar woman casting fire from her hands.
[] a bluish spark, shimmering with the cold of frost within it. You get the impression of a Dokkalfar man shooting shards of ice from his hands.
You engulf the spark with your magic, smothering it with your essence and suffusing the spark with it. No sooner have you done this, a tremendous explosion erupts in your ears, deafening you. Blinding light fills your vision for a moment before it returns to you ever so slowly. It's hardly an improvement, however, because you can only see fire and smoke through watery eyes. You can see shadowy figures beyond the curtains of black smoke however and there are faint shouts of alarm under the keening sound filling your ears.
You are only half-aware that you move, rushing through the corridors and braving the flames half-blinded, ignoring everyone that calls after you as you pass them by. You can faintly feel someone else running behind you, but you don't even turn around to check who is it.
At one point, you spot a ray of light piercing the thick smoke and coughing, you stumble into the outside, feeling the pure air clear a bit your nose and head. You fall to your knees, gasping and heaving from the ordeal and you feel your eyes water from the sheer relief of being able to escape the void. You are free! The mere idea is enough to elicit laughter from you, though it's a raspy thing, clogged from the smoke and heat. You couldn't care less, however; you are alive and free!
However, the respite is short-lived because someone grabs your arms and asks you something in a shout. It's his mistake. Caught by surprise, you shriek. Magic surges, answering your silent plea. The next seconds are a blur to you. Booming thunder echoes in the air and another explosion echoes near you.
Feet running.
The splash of water.
Yells in the distance.
Running.
Running.
How long have you been running? You don't know.
Trees, rocks and rivers pass you by, but you don't stop. You cannot stop. Not until you're safe. Not until-
You pass out.
And when you regain your conscience, you wake up:
[] in the nook of a weathered, ruined stone room. There are broken pots next to you, with a crumbling table and book shelf on the other wall opposite of you. The room has no door and you can see more of the building you're in. It seems to be some sort of underground ruin or cavern. You can only hear the slow dripping of water from somewhere near your position.
[] in a comfortable bed. Looking around you, you can see a cozy room inviting you to sleep in. There's a fire crackling merrily within the fireplace on the opposite wall, a desk with some papers, a dresser and a single bookshelf filled with books. A dark rug decorated with geometrical designs covers a large portion of the floor. Next to your bed, a lit candle rests on a small, wooden nightstand. The door to the room is nearly closed, but it still allows inside the sound of faint whispers from beyond.
[] in a somewhat stiff bed. Looking around you, you spot rows of other beds. Most of them are empty, but you spot at least a few occupied by men and women alike, all slumbering. The walls are of hewn stone, red-brown and weathered, but still appearing to be maintained. Banners hang on the walls, depicting a rampant blue beast pierced by a spear. A scrapping noise brings your attention to an man with blue and faded yellow armor, seated on a chair sharpening his sword. Beyond the room's open door, you can hear the hubbub of people talking and laughing.
Notes: With this update, we'll finish the initial char gen and we can start exploring the world. Things are going to start making more sense, writing style-wise. This is still the prologue, though.
EDIT: Character sheet updated.
With the vote from SB, the winner votes are these:
[] Ciara
[] a bluish spark, shimmering with the cold of frost within it. You get the impression of a Dokkalfar man shooting shards of ice from his hands.
[] in the nook of a weathered, ruined stone room. There are broken pots next to you, with a crumbling table and book shelf on the other wall opposite of you. The room has no door and you can see more of the building you're in. It seems to be some sort of underground ruin or cavern. You can only hear the slow dripping of water from somewhere near your position.
Awareness comes slowly. First, the sound of water dripping onto silent stone, a relentless sound that persists in your ears. Then, the hard surface of the wall you're leaning against, curled up into a ball as you are, and with many little stones lightly poking your back. You can feel the chill hanging in the air, caressing your skin and you let out an unintelligible grunt of discomfort. Sight is the last sense to return to you and through bleary eyes, you can only see the remains of what once was probably a room... Now, however, it's little more than a wrecked ruin, ravaged by time and looters most likely.
You... you're not quite sure how you got here. The moments after your desperate gamble against the void are all but a blur to you and while you remember running, you can scarcely recall little else. But - yes, you were fleeing, you can say that much. Still, though you can't know what happened exactly after escaping, there's little time to dwell on that now. After all, you have more pressing concerns, like getting a feel for this place.
Rising from your curled position by the wall, you groan as you stretch the little kinks of your body. Sleeping on the cold, hard ground is definitely not going to do wonders for you. Taking in the ruined room, you approach the crumbling table with a stumbling, unsteady gait. There's a hollowness within you, like a nausea building up in the pit of your stomach, and you can't quite put the finger on why. You hope you're not sick. That'd be the last thing you need after managing to escape the void.
Reaching the table, you use it as a steadying tool. It creaks ominously, weathered and covered in dust as it is, but it holds. Barely. A wave of of nausea sweeps over you and you groan, trying to ride out the headache that comes with it.
"Fuck," you curse, and you promptly freeze up, because that's not the voice that you'd come to associate with yourself during your brief interaction with Kathryn in that strange little town. In fact, the voice could be called anything but feminine. It's a man's voice, quite unlike what you are.
Dazedly, you bring your hands to your face. You can't quite suppress the little shocked gasp upon touching the small goatee on your chin, or the harsher, more pointed features of your face. Running an hesitant hand over your chest reveals a smooth body-line, without the noticeable swell of a woman's bust. A short, but quick inspection of yourself confirms your initial worst fears.
You have, somehow, woken up in a man's body. You grip the edges of the table, body trembling as the full realization of this fact sinks in. You are... fuck. Fuck.
"Fuck!" you yell into the silence, unable to put into other words the absolute frustration you feel. You are no man, thank you very much! And yet you had to end up in the body of one!
In truth, you can seldom complain about the result of your actions. With your brain kicking into motion to process the whole situation in a way that is frighteningly clinical, you remember the desperation you felt as the hooks dragged you into the void. You remember how you gambled everything on your last hand. It hadn't been a conscious decision at the time, you know, but it's obvious now that the sparks you had felt then were the essences - the souls?- of the people overseeing Kathryn's supposed Initiation trial. And you had to end in the body of one of the men...
"The gods hate me," you mumble tiredly. How are you even going to work with... with this? Even if you don't remember who you were before, you still know the differences between man and woman. You have enough awareness of yourself to understand and accept that you were- are a woman!
But no. You can't get hung up on this hurdle. You will get over this. You know you can. If you are to survive, you must.
"This isn't going to stop me," you mutter to yourself, trying really hard to refrain from shuddering at the jarring disconnect between the voice that you hear and the one you know you should be hearing.
But first things first, you need to get out of this room and decide your next action.
Inspecting the room, you spot little that could be of value. The room is in a complete state of ruin and there's little that doesn't appear to be broken. However, in one of the broken pots next to where you were sleeping against the wall, you find a small pouch of coins in a threadbare sack.
"Someone must've forgotten them at some point. Their loss." And their loss is your gain in this case.
1d100: 70
70 coins found!
Cheered up by your success, you examine the room in an effort to see if you missed anything and your efforts are given fruit when you spot a small little pile in one of the corners of the room, half-hidden by the shadows. It's a mismatch of broken pieces and safety hazards, but you crow victoriously when you hit the jackpot shifting through the pile.
1d20: 7
A long, chipped and brittle rod of wood that you'd taken for a simple broken tree branch turns out to be a staff. '- such as a staff, the weapon of a mage,' a flat, smooth voice suddenly whispers in your mind and you frown. For a moment there, it seemed like...
Shaking your head, you continue shifting through the pile until you find a pair of rusted, cracked daggers. The leather from the hilts is all but worn off, but they might still have some life left in them.
Inspecting your findings, you can tell the staff seems to be in working condition, even if it looks crude and simple. The daggers in turn might be more maneuverable and provide more options (you can't deny the staff doesn't look inconspicuous at all!), but they definitely look more worn, which might not be ideal if they break when you need them most. Still, both are weapons, do you really wish to debate the benefits of one, when you might need the protection they offer?
Looking at your options with a critical eye, you finally decide to take the:
[] crude wooden staff.
[] worn iron daggers.
With your choice made and feeling more secure now that you're armed, you step out into the world beyond your room. It doesn't take long for you to work out the fact that your room, small as it was, was some sort of side room meant for storage of some sort, attached to a larger chamber. This bigger room sports a stone dais in one of its walls, on which stands a small black altar. Or the remains of what looked to be one, in any case. Large stone tables are spread out in the room, carved from greyish stoone and smooth to the touch and only broken plates and ashes remain under a thick layer of dust.
It's obvious to you that this place, whatever it is, housed people at some point. Now, only you remain.
"Me and whatever beasts might call this place home," you are quick to remind yourself in a whisper. It's a very reasonable assumption, after all. You can't tell if your whispering is because you don't want to signal your position or you're too scared to listen to the sound of your- the man's voice.
The only truly noteworthy detail in the room are the geometrical patterns etched onto the blackened stone. Circles and squares, shaped into elegant motifs and swirling patterns. There are some on the walls, but the largest one covers a good portion of the floor in the room. They all glow brightly and when you kneel to inspect the one you're standing on, you can feel power pulsing underneath your fingers. It's faint, no doubt about it, and you can hardly guess at what purpose they might've served, but the power... their magic is undeniable and it's there.
'A mystery for another time,' you think with a shake of your head. You have other concerns to deal with first.
Exiting the room, you begin to make your way through the underground ruin, for this is what seems to be the place you've awakened to. Everywhere you go, you get similar findings in other rooms spread all over the building: broken furniture, ravaged by time; stone structures broken or fallen into disrepair and the glowing geometrical patterns that are everywhere. However, there is one detail you can't help but notice.
There are no bodies lying around, not even skeletons.
It's a foreboding thought, but the lack of signs of struggle or fights goes a long way in easing your concerns. For now.
You walk through a maze of corridors and chambers, trying to find your way in this confusing labyrinth. Even though you are surrounded by silence, you can almost hear the skittering of feet and faint bestial shrieks at some points, and once you find a staircase that brings you up a level, you start to see crude, makeshift wooden contraptions and traps, which confirms your theory that someone is definitely here.
However, in the near complete silence of the ruins, you have found the peace to consider your situation. Despite the setbacks, you had managed to escape to void after so long, which could only be counted as a win. Hells, you had even begun to take your life back into your hands by claiming a name!
"Ciara," you had told Kathryn. "My name is Ciara."
You smiled at the thought. It was a good name. It felt good. It felt right. And most of all, it was your name. No one could take that from you.
Moreover, you now know at least one piece of evidence about your former self. You were a mage. Given the powerful whirlwinds you'd summoned easily enough against those Tuatha, it's an obvious assumption to think you'd had formal training at some point before. Either that, or you were some sort of natural prodigy. Either option works for you, really.
The memory of the magic you had used in that town construct is clear to you and with little else to do, you try to exercise your magic by repeating it. While you don't manage to recreate the level of magic you'd used before, you are able to create one single whirlwind after several attempts. It might mot be as powerful as the ones you were able to summon, but it's still a start.
Whirlwind spell learned!
A strong gust of wind that at when maxed levels has a chance to knock back enemies, nullifying their attacks turn. [1/3]
After surviving the encounter with the so-called Tuatha in a place suspended in time, you have gained 50 XP!
Still, for all your success, you can't stop thinking about the fact, it's someone else's magic doing the heavy lifting. You had taken the body of someone else to escape. You were wearing a stranger's skin to make your way into the world and that's something that you can't deny. You felt:
[] disgusted by your own actions. He was a person and you stole his body to save your own skin. Even if it was a mistake driven by desperation, how could you even look at yourself after this?
[] remorseful, but at peace. It was a necessary evil in order to ensure your survival, but you wish it hadn't gotten to this point.
[] indifferent. So what if you had taken his body? You needed to escape the void. It could have been any other. Right or wrong, it saved your life and that's what you care about.
[] satisfaction at your newfound freedom. You haven't survived the void, splintered as you might be, just to roll over and die. Sucks for the man, but better him than you.
[] gleeful at the idea of his very own life being taken over by your mind. What must have been his last moments like, you wonder? Did he feel fear? Resignation? You dearly wish you could have experienced it!
You nodded to yourself. Yes, that sounded about right.
Rounding a corner, you stumble upon a fork in the corridor, with two paths diverging and leading deeper into the ruin. You are still debating which path might be the better option when your sensitive ears pick up on the faint sounds of battle coming from the right path.
You hesitate, wondering if investigating is a good idea in your state, but the memory of Kathryn coming to your aid when she knew nothing about you sends you half-jogging towards the sounds of battle with a soft curse.
As you move through the corridors, the sounds of battle increase in loudness, masking your arrival and quickly crouching behind a stone wall that would probably only reach up to your waist, you remain hidden as you investigate what's happening.
You spot four people trying to survive against feral creatures wielding makeshift spears in the middle of a large room. 'Kobolds,' some part of your mind sighs as if a breeze on the wind when you eye the beasts, and you can't help the silent snarl that takes over your face for a split second. 'Filthy mongrels... Not surprising they're here, they always lurk in unhinabited places in fear of civilization.'
You don't even question the knowledge, so incensed you are at the sight of these savage kobolds for some strange reason. Gritting your teeth, you take a deep breath. You can't lose your cool here.
Though it's hard to make out in the chaos of battle, you're able to identify the four people trying to fight for their lives. They are a Gnome, two Varani mercenaries and a Ljosalfar wearing faded and tattered robes. They seem to be some sort of adventuring group. The Gnome and the Ljosalfar are blasting the spear-wielding kobolds with magic, while the Varani hold them back with their own weapons.
Off to a side, there is a hissing pot held over a small fire, and there seems to be a rudimentary bag lying next to a block of stone near it. Small black orbs spill from it.
The same black orbs, you quickly realize, as the ones one of the kobolds is throwing at the adventurers, setting off small explosions around them.
'Explosives!'
However and thanks to what appears to be mindless savagery on the kobolds' part, it seems the adventurers are managing to hold their own, as they can work around the beasts. Regardless, there seems to be quite a few more of the savages than adventurers and it would probably only take a mistake to turn the tide either way. Or someone's intervention in favor of one of the groups...
You:
[] enter the fray.
-[] Write-in strategy (who you side with, what do you do, how do you do it...). Can be as simple or as complex as you wish.
[] ignore the battle and retreat. It was a close vote, but in the end dungeon crawling won over a taking a step back and having a nice rest. Not sure if I should be surprised or not lol.
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Chapter 5: Ciara & Adventurers vs Kobold Pack. Fight!
[] crude wooden staff.
[] indifferent. So what if you had taken his body? You needed to escape the void. It could have been any other. Right or wrong, it saved your life and that's what you care about.
[] enter the fray.
-[] Whirlwind, aim to catch the thrown explosives and return them to sender.
Adventurer group Initiative (4): 258
Kobolds group Initiative (8): 302
Kobolds Go first
Ciara interrupts! Goes first. Turn 1
Ciara's surprise Whirlwind attack: 1d100+20 => 106 Critical [+10 XP]
-15 Mana: 85/100 Ciara's Mana left!
Ciara's reroll for critical damage: 1d100 => 78
Kobolds hit with grenades: 1d8 => 2
Kobold Pair 1: 100-78: 22 HP Left!
-- Kobolds Turn
Kobold pair 1 attack: 1d100-10 => 81
Gnome's defense: 1d100+20 (Veteran's Edge) => 116 crit!
Gnome's counterattack! 1d100 => 4
Kobold pair 1 Health: 22 – 4: 18 HP Left!
All enemies defeated! The battle is won! [+15 XP]
Ciara earns 35 XP!
You quickly decide to help the adventurers. For a moment, your mind contemplates the possibility of helping the kobolds, but their savage looks and demeanor is surely a strong mark against them. Why would you help a beast-like race like that that doesn't seem capable of higher thought aside from a crude mockery of it?
Eyeing the kobold flinging small explosives, you grin, a plan forming in your head.
You can still remember the feeling of the magic on your skin, the way the wind coalesced around your form as it took in the form of a cutting whirlwind. Like a flaring light in your mind, you call upon your magic.
Standing up from your crouched position behind the broken half-wall, you allow yourself a moment to study the battlefield. While there are two clearly defined groups in the room, the kobolds are rapidly advancing on the adventurers and it won't be long until they clash against each other. Both groups are so focused on each other that none spot you as you rise up from your hiding position.
Pleased, you quickly rush along the wall, on the edge of the room, to get a better angle. Your magic is already pushing up within you, seeking release as it builds up. Positioning yourself at an angle between the adventurers and the kobolds, you let the magic surge. With the kobolds looking in your general direction, a couple spot you, but they aren't fast enough to react.
When the bomb-flinging kobold throws another salvo of explosives towards the adventurers, you jump forward, allowing your magic to take the shape of a deadly whirlwind and flying towards the kobolds, catching the bombs in midair.
The kobolds try to move away, but the whirlwind is advancing on them and you cut the magic as soon as possible to get them all. Unfortunately, kobolds are agile, slippery beasts and when the bombs fall, only two of them are hurt. But those two… oh, they are hurt badly. With a loud bang, the bombs explode and the two kobolds caught in the blast are left a visibly charred mess. Despite the gory sight and the shrieks leaving their throats, they still advance on the group, mad with bloodlust even if they are clearly hurt and slower than before.
While the kobolds are caught by surprise, their momentum is too much to stop and they barrel into the adventurers. To their credit however, most of your new allies don't visibly react, taking your sudden appearance and assistance in stride.
They are clearly work like a well-oiled machine. Even when the kobolds split in pairs to harry each of the adventurers individually, they still manage to form a cohesive line and don't allow the kobolds to flank them, fending off their advances. Hell, the female Varani, wielding a wicked-looking pair of daggers even manages to parry the spears attacking them and counterattack with a brutal slash against her enemies, leaving them stumbling for a moment.
"Ha! That's my sister for you, ugly beasts!" the other Varani shouts, as he dodges a stab from one of his kobold enemies.
"Virnjorn, focus you damn oaf!"
The now named Virnjorn simply laughs at his sister's rebuke and continues to evade and parry the brutal attacks from the kobolds and he even makes it look easy.
Blocking a spear throw with an expert parry from his short sword, the gnome, wearing heavy plate, advances two steps before burying his weapon deep within the guts of one of the kobolds. Not wasting any second, he carves a long cut through its belly before grabbing the spear that had clattered to the ground and smashes deep into the other kobold's skull.
With his foes killed, he wipes the sweat from his brow with a frantic movement before snapping at the Varani. "Less bickering and more killing, you two!" he snarls, earning an affirmative shout from the mercenaries.
"Aye aye!"
Jumping into the fray next to the Ljosalfar mage, you watch as he takes a quick glance at you while reading a frost spell. That proves to be a mistake, because his eyes widen in recognition when he sees you; concentration broken, he slips on the rubble littering the ground and the spell, half-ready, blasts a hole into the ceiling and showering you all with dust and debris.
Being next to you, you try to help him, but the reaction was so unexpected that you're a second too slow. One of the kobolds slams a spear into the ground and the mage only manages to barely roll out of the way to avoid being impaled. His shout of pain is a telltale sign he didn't escape unscathed however and this time, you're quick to react.
1d3 => 1 Staff imbued with Fire element.
Brandishing your staff, you summon a wave of fire to keep the kobolds away from the mage as he rises to his feet. He's bleeding from his side, pressing at the wound with bloody fingers. His tattered and faded robes are torn up.
"You okay?!" you exclaim and in the heat of the battle, there's no time to flinch at the male voice coming from your mouth.
"You-you…" he stammers with wide eyes, but you growl in annoyance. Mistakes as his can be costly and not just for him.
"No time for that! Fight, damnit!"
Around you, the battle rages on. The Varani mercenaries have engaged half of the other kobolds and they're doing and excellent job of keeping them at bay while bleeding them and in no time they're starting to show a multitude of wounds.
While the kobolds try to press their superior numbers, they are less than before and even with their mage wounded, the adventurers are able to block or parry all their attacks. Recognizing the mage as the weakest link with his wound, you stick close to him in order to protect the group and to deny the kobolds the chance to pick you all off one by one.
With the comfortable grip of the staff in your hand, you act, twirling it to unleash a torrent of fire onto two of the wounded kobolds. Screaming, they go down as the smell of charred, cooked flesh starts to rise up in the room.
"Good one, man!" the Varani man shouts as he jumps over the still burning kobold corpses and engages in a short, brutal dance with his sword that ends with two decapitated heads rolling over the floor.
Next to him, his dark-haired sister weaves around the attacks from her own enemies before shoving one of the daggers through the base of the kobold's mouth and throwing her remaining dagger into the skull of the other beast.
'Pure luck,' you dryly think from a few steps away having seen it, but it's undeniable that she has clear skill.
Only two kobolds remain and seeing the slaughter of their kind, it's made clear to them that they're next. Somehow, their frantic movement helps them out in throwing off their enemies, because their erratic jerking means even the experienced-looking Gnome is unable to land a blow on them.
Croaking, they run off in an attempt to flee deeper into the ruins, trying to reach their fellow beasts most likely. However, with a small snort, you jump forward from your position and cut them off. In truth, the kobolds had all but ignored you and seemed to focus solely on the adventurers - but you're okay with that.
The last two kobolds die a grisly death as your newly-acquired fire staff claims two more lives. And then, only you and the adventurers are left. The Gnome is quick to take charge, speaking with a thick, drawling accent.
"Alright, you know the drill. Virnjorn, Amani, loot whatever valuables you find from these savages around here. Sinon, check for traps and Tome-goddamnit, heal that wound of yours, you thick-headed Ljosalfar! And you-" he finally says, turning to you. "I would speak with you."
You can say that again, now that you've helped them out, you can't deny you're curious about whatever they're doing here. Holstering your staff onto your back with a crude sling you'd fashioned yourself with some faded and dirty strips of cloth, you watch as the small Gnome saunters up to you.
"Name's Castor, of the Praetorian caste. These here are my men, helping me on a… task assigned to us," the so-named Castor explained without truly telling you anything of worth. "Now, who might you be, stranger? Are you a treasure hunter, here to loot these ruins?"
Just as you open your mouth to respond, the Ljosalfar male cuts your eventual response. He looks pained, but his eyes are clear and they're fixed on you. He looks completely caught off guard.
"There's no need for that, I know this man! This is Reen, Cadoc Reen! What are you doing here in Mull-Rane? Are you with the Scholia Arcana?"
Blinking, you can only stare at the man in surprise. He… knows you? Or at least, the man whose skin you're wearing like a protective rug around you. Well, shit. So that's why he reacted the way he did when he got a good look at you.
'What am I supposed to do now?'
Seeing your lack of recognition, the wounded mage lets out a huffed laugh. "Oh, come one, I couldn't be that invisible, right? Just because I flunked out of the Scholia… Hello? We shared a class with Telemachus, remember? Raspy Telemachus? Ring any bells? No?"
"Sinon, take a damn healing potion, already!" Praetorian Castor grunts, eyeing the Alfar's bleeding wound with disapproval. However, you don't miss the way he looks at you surreptitiously, checking your reactions to the situation.
It's obvious you can't just keep silent, given that he knows you or at least the man that used to be here before you took over. Thing is, you hadn't expected to run into someone that was familiar with your host, this… Cadoc Reen. You've got to do something, and you've got to do it now.
[] Tell the truth. You've no idea how you got here and you sadly can't recognize him. After all, you are telling the truth… if only from a certain point of view and omitting key details.
[] Bluff your way through this. While risky, it might yield valuable information from the mage and help you to get a better picture of this Cadoc Reen.
[] Attack them! This man knows the identity of the man you're puppeteering around, it's too much of a risk for him - or the others, for that matter- to allow him to live!
Ciara gains 35 XP! 85/150 to Level 2.
Element of Ciara's crude wooden staff discovered: Fire.
Probably not my best work. The weekend turned to be quite hectic and I didn't have much time to work on the chapter. While it's a simple choice, the options might end up having a bit of a domino effect depending on how things play out.
