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" Ain't bout the joys of the reeling, laddie, as much as the mystery of waiting."

//GENERAL INFORMATION


Name: Thistle Longperch the III

Appearance: Thistle is minuscule in comparison to most adult Pinians and would drown in any shallow sand bank if he happened to be careless.

Gender: Male

Age: 38

Race: Pinian, Lesser Saltwing

Profession: Angler

Goals:

//Origin and Background


//Skills and Rot

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/\/ Whimsical Ventures of Fantastical Retrofuturism /\/




18th of Uulu Ut, 3 A.R (After Reseph)

Dreams are the poems of the mute, the paintings of the blind and the music of the deaf. It is a master of your body but a prisoner to your unconscious whims. This time, though, you are falling. Endlessly towards a dodecahedron in the void. It whispers to you in seductive equations, to subsume into code and become one with it. Like the crowing of a dawnwing, Qud’s discordant melodies rouse you from your peaceful chrysalis of slumber.

You awake in one of the sandstone abodes of Hasgahem, a village situated on the canyon springs. Fishing lines dip inside scillintating mineral pools, eddies of azure gas swirling in their depths. Thatches of gnarled dogthorns provide plentiful shade from the sweltering sun.

As you recollect your memories like the fragmented remains of a jigsaw, you piece together the present. A trio of dromads, members of the expedition you were hired for, debate over the intricacies of wine trading in the wake of a cooling fireplace. Around you are meandering slopes of salt-encrusted rust, red rims etched down into bands of baked sediment. Further out, you take note of the distant surroundings.

To the west lies the eternal expanse of Moghra’Yi, the Great Salt Desert. The alien Spindle erupts in the northeast and cuts through the heavenly firmaments of Qud’s dappled sky. Qud’s jungles swarm the southeastern landscape over fossilized silver ruins of yore. The Chrome Ruins preside over the east and beyond that, violet clouds thunder ominously over the radioactive Deathlands.

Your stomach rumbles. A shrill series of barks alerts you to atention. Alu, the raccoon leader of the expeidtion, invites you over to join the caravan in morning repast. Your appetite cannot deny his request as you walk over to them and listen in on the discussion. Whilst they argue, you peruse the texts that lay on the thatched brinewood table to refresh your memory of the land.

Whilst you have successfully arrived at Qud, your journey in this fabled land hasn’t ended. It has merely begun.

Live and drink, wayfarer.





Karsts is a linear science fantasy roleplay with elements of open-world sandboxing based on the fictional setting portrayed in the indie roguelike, Caves of Qud. Set in a distant post-apocalyptic future where the epoch of humanity has passed into mere myth; mutants, genetic deviants and extra-planetary beings pick over what remains of godlike civilizations shrouded by millenia of refuse. Multiple disasters, minor and world-shattering, over the aeons have driven the world into a quasi-medieval state where forgotten technology is slowly being rediscovered and repurposed.Those unmutated survive in self-sustaining Eco-Domes, independent arcologies built from forgotten technology. Right now, society is in a precarious state of teetering between extinction and renaissance and no one knows which way the balance will tip.

One of the most prominent regions in this world is called Qud. Every wayfarer has their own words for how to describe Qud. Dangerous. Alluring. Bountiful. Beautiful. Horrifying. Captivating. It’s majesty knows no bounds yet chance is a cruel mistress here as one second of carelessness could lead to your death. It's ruins are the stuff of legend, attracting adventurers like a glowmoth towards a candle. You find yourself here after becoming a member of a dromad funded archeological excursion, whether on purpose or by mistake. The reward was one part of your reason for joining but moreover was the mystery of Qud itself.

Don't fool yourself. You're no savior. You're no hero. You are not a legend. Well, not yet. Perhaps, you could become one.

In summary, think of this setting as the crazed lovechild of Gamma World and Dune who simultaneously had an affair with Adventure Time. It is a land of a thousand tales, stories of transhumanist philosophy, sentient agriculture, extraterrestrial archeology, political diplomacy, cuisine escapades, sapphic romance and cave spelunking. It’s experimental. It’s idiosyncratic. It draws from many places but creates its own path.

In terms of the genre, as implied in the subtitle as well as in the prior paragraphs above, this will be science fiction with a twist of pulp fantasy and a dash of classic action-adventure Indiana Jones thriller sensibilities.

If you’re still interested in joining this RP, please read on down below.

Map




Player Guidelines and Rules


- Have fun.

- Treat others with respect as how you would want to be treated yourself, unless you have a massive inferiority complex, which in that case, don’t. This is a RP where outside of IC, we provide a friendly environment where players are free to engage and discuss with one another without fear of being drawn into toxicity. If anyone is acting in a manner that is disrupting the RP and causing other players to be uncomfortable, you will be ex-communicated to another dimension.

- Be fun and be open to worldbuilding. Forging your own headcanon, creating your own factions or suggesting ideas is wholeheartedly encouraged. A key part of Qud is that it is a land of mystery where not even its most distinguished scholars have documented all of the world’s enigmas. Qud is vast and mysterious enough that reasonably any suggestion or theory could fit inside its vast smorgasbord of deliciousness. However, consult with the GM before suggesting or integrating lore within IC that provides systemic changes to the world itself.

- Standard conventions of roleplaying apply which means no metagaming, godmodding, munchkining, 4th wall breaking or inclusion of 18+ content that would violate RPG’s TOS in your IC posts. Note that mature themes do not mean writing graphic erotica.

- Think fun. When creating your character, your character shouldn’t be your standard fantasy hero or adventurer who is seemingly an expert in every field possible with some arbitrary weakness. I want real, fleshed out characters that have lived a life in this world and treat what would be strange to us as mundane. I want dynamicity. I want depth. I want so much depth that I could dig through your character’s backstory and find myself in China.

- Cooperation and communication are essential in this roleplay. Collaborative posting, although not essential, is allowed and encouraged if you are willing to do so. I will not force players to engage in collabs at any time during this RP.

- Know how to have fun with your post lengths. The writing I expect from players is quality over quantity with adherence to efficiency. I do not care how many words you write, although, this does not mean you can write one sentence and expect to get away with it. The minimum is one paragraph but I expect any player who joins this RP will know what expectations to set for themselves.

- There is no such thing as a posting schedule. That being said, players are expected to communicate frequently to the GM and other players if they are unavailable or have lost interest in this RP. Failure to do so after two weeks will result in the player being exiled to a chromatic plane of existence.

- Worship fun and feel free to sacrifice your character to maintain your personal autonomy of free time whenever you feel like it. You have no obligation to remain a member of this RP and you can freely request for your character to be shelved at any time. Do note that you can only make one character for this RP.

- You must accept the fact that I will be unfair to you whenever possible and that durian is the superior fruit to all other fruits in existence.




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A NEOPHYTE’S COMPENDIUM FOR QUD AND BEYOND - ARGENT EDITION

By Sar-Dur-Baz of the Wardens


A FOREWORD


My hope, I must correct myself, the hope of all wardens is that this book will serve as a guide to all those who come to Qud as well as all current inhabitants of this land that holds more mysteries than immortals will ever know. I have seen too many nomads have their arms bitten off by a crocodile in the swamp marshes or arrogant archeologists from a far off Eco-Dome succumbing to the rank pestilences in the ruins of Golgotha. Whilst Qud is indeed gorgeous, it is also one capable of great terror at a moment’s notice. Preparation and knowledge are not your only tools as is your ability to adapt to the cruelty this realm offers at a moment notice.

History is fluid in Qud. For example, woud you know that Uboroqu, the Ape King of the Blemished Hills, and the Baboon Lord, Oh-Ah-Ooo-a-o of the Frigid Swamps are in fact the same figure? Or that many of the deeds of the fourth Sultan, Nimswhour, are in fact the same as Reseph? Do not heed my words here as truth but merely as opinion. The ennui of millenia has set its fangs and like the River Svy, historical fact parted like tributaries into stories, myths and folklore. For the truth is that we embellish the mundane and diminish the epic.

Regardless, my dear reader, I know what precarious position you find yourself in. I myself was once an inanimate block of foamcrete until someone decided to animate me to life. Any existential anxiety about how I was thinking without neural pathways was forgotten in the name of surviving in the harsh and treacherous environment in front of me. Whatever fears you have, your survival must not be forgotten.

Live and drink, traveler.

CHRONOLOGY


Qud adheres to a strict 365 day lunar calendar with our years labelled after the death of the final Sultan, Reseph, and rely on noting the distinct positions of the sun and moon in place of days. The Consortium of Phyta have arduously advocated for the adoption of P.P (Prior to Publication) instead of B.R (Before Reseph) and A.R (After Reseph) at the previous Warden’s Moot.

The names of the 12 months are as follows.

Nivvun Ut
Iyur Ut
Simmun Ut
Tuum Ut
Ubu Ut
Uulu Ut
Ut yara Ux* (5 days)

Note: Controversial amongst many races. Some prefer not to recognise Ut Yara Ux, believing it to not even be worthy of demarcation as a month, whilst others cite its importance to the Fellowship of Wardens as a period of time where the annual Warden’s Moot is held, a yearly diplomatic conference held between all of the local principalities and major settlements in Qud.

Tishru i Ux
Tishru ii Ux
Kisu Ux
Tebet Ux
Shwut Ux
Uru Ux

Based on a millennia of observation, official consensus amongst Qud’s astronomers , with support of the Barathrumites, there are 9 distinct periods of time throughout the day. These periods can be identified by the changing hues of the sky when Qud’s sun intermingles with the clouds.

Waning Beetle Moon - Completely dark.
The Shallows - Magenta.
Harvest Dawn - Blue.
Waxing Salt Sun - Light Blue.
High Salt Sun - Yellow.
Waning Salt Sun - Light Orange.
Hindsun - Dark Orange.
Jeweled Dusk - Purple.
Waxing Beetle Moon - Dark Green.

Geography of Qud




At the end of their journey, Travellers will most likely first find themselves in the Great Salt Desert. The Moghra’Yi, as called in the language of the man-camels, serves as the first deterrence for any traveller looking to venture into Qud and is the main barrier between it and other regions. Dromad caravans and pilgrims are commonly harassed by the Issachari, the salt-kissed nomads of the ivory dunes. On the land, krakens ranging from the size of a ray cat to small hills make the dunes tremble in their wake whilst the sky is patrolled by flocks of dawngliders ready to roast any wanderer with their flaming choler.

In the northern reaches of this great desert sprouts the Six Day Stilt, the holy temple of the Mechanimists and where their main clergy is located at. Rumored to be built in the corpse of an elder salt kraken, the Stilt’s main attraction is the Sacred Well of Kaphascence. Crowds of religious pilgrims and zealots arrive to offer piety by offering technological artifacts into its neverending gullet. Like moths surrounding a glowsphere, bazaars and merchants part fools of their precious water,

Between the eastern jungles and the Moghra’Yi lies a marshy swamp bordered by rust-caves and the lips of desert canyons. The farming hamlet of Joppa is the most prominent of several settlements in this area, acting as the beating heart that supplies its smaller neighbours with watervine crop and trade routes. Warring snapjaw dictators and conquerors have made their home here in the Red Canyons, scavenging what they can to survive whilst hunting the weak to nourish their warpath. The labyrinthian nature of the canyons along with the ferocity of the local wildlife thankfully prevents these warlords and their armies from spreading all across Qud.

To the north lies the Black Shelf, a flat-topped plateau of obsidian from where the canyon walls sprout and spread across Qud. Asphalt and molten rock bubbles out from the various caves that pocket it, yet, none seem to be worried about the encroaching eruption that may occur. The pastoral Flower Fields burgeon to the south and dot Qud’s dirt with kaleidoscopic petals.There are rumors that a hidden settlement of hindren exists in the kaleidoscopic flower fields, though, the rainbow forest more often than not wards off any searchers with the bushes of feral lahs.

Parted in half by River Svy, Qud’s jungles claw over the chrome caves and ancient rubble of a thousand civilisations, buried underneath layers of loam and dirt. The most famous of these ruins are Golgotha, the Graveyard of Fester, Bethesda Susa, the Cryo Spire and Grit Gate, home of the Barathrumites.
Despite the hidden treasures deep within these rust caves, danger is liable to snap up unprepared adventurers. Naphthaali tribes roam through the brush whilst the brutal goat folk clans decimate unwary travellers who traverse into their territories. Of all the forest villages that persist in this dangerous environment, the mushroom village of Kyakukya stands tall behind their worship of Oboroqu, the Ape God.

Besides that, there are only a few other spots of interest in these jungles other than the neverending chrome ruins that are uncovered everyday. The Rainbow Grove is the domain of the fungi, a breeding ground of life and death where tributaries of primal creation flow through living geysers of riches. A tremorous footstep marks the northwest, where countless live in the shelter of the Crater. Finally, the Bore of Omnoch carves a chewed tunnel into the wells of youth where the Screaming Men lie, waiting.

To the northern jungles lies the alien Spindle, a gargantuan needle of endless sliver that punctures the blue firmament into the unknown. Under its shadow is the Corrupted Groves, where daccas wait to rob unsuspecting humans of their fluids as they stare at the succulent fields of bananas. In the center of the grove is Omonporch, the base of the Spindle and considered the consecrated grounds of the Consortium of Phyta. Nearby is the tree village of Ezra, where humble banana farmers make a living harvesting their wild brethren.

Beyond Qud’s jungles, further east, past the scabbed Red Mountains, lie glowing ruins where few dare venture into.The Deathlands. The level of radiation in this region is toxic enough to blemish the sky violet.

Needless to say, there are some things there that should never be unearthed.

Regions Beyond Qud


Please keep in mind, dear reader, that the information in this section is based on hearsay from dromads who wander beyond the Moghra’Yi, fungal spores that drifted on the salt-spangled winds and glowfish spawn who swam down River Svy from beyond the Black Shelf.

The trio of Eco-Domes where most True Kin in Qud originate from are the Toxic Arboreta of Ekueimikuye, the Crustal Mortars of Yawningmoon and the ice sheathed arcology of Ibul. Out of all of these three arcologies, the Fellowship of Wardens possess the most knowledge about the Toxic-Sheathed Arboreta and Ice-Sheathed Arcology from collaboration with Sheba Hagadias, the librarian of the Stilt. Most Eco-Domes operate on a hierarchical caste system with each caste having certain roles that allow the arcology to function.

The Holy City or the Toxic Arboreta dwells in the undergrowth of Ekueimikuye, located to the far east. Horticulturalists tend and prune the overgrown rabid gardens that threaten to throttle and infest the poisoned air that its inhabitants are forced to breathe in everyday. The Holy City gives birth to new ecosystems everyday, petri dishes of evolution to sustain the hunger of the arcologie’s growing population. The Sun and Moon Priests tend to the woes of the masses by offering them faith in the breathtaking sunset and moonlight that dawns upon them everyday and to take solace that every lungful of corrosive air that they swallow is a gift from the gods. Finally, the Sygyzyrior caste are honor-bound hunters, dedicating each of their kills to the Sun and Moon Priests whilst providing the population with questionable sources of protein.

The aptly named Ice-Sheathed Arcology of Ibul is located in the Ibul Ice Sheet, a treacherous tundra of mammothian bergs and inhospitable for most lifeforms. The most technologically advanced of all known arcologies thus far, they carve geometrically impossible structures out of the glaciers, pathing lit streets of chiseled ice so smooth you could mistake it for glass. The Ibulians favor diplomacy and knowledge amongst all. The caste of Artifex maintain research and development of lost Eater technology whilst the Ibulian Consuls rule above all other castes, making executive decisions and diplomatic deals with other arcologies and settlements. In terms of servitude, the Eunuch caste serves as the left hand of the Consuls, dealing in everyday tasks and assignments that would be a waste of their precious time. The Praetorians, meanwhile, are the main military branch of Ibul, utterly organized, disciplined and strong enough to lay waste to any cretin that dares touch their arcology.

The location of the Crustal Mortars remain ever mysterious to us, buried somewhere beyond the Fuming God Sea, south-west of Moghra’Yi. There are rumors that they live underground near the trembling wake of calderas and volcanoes but such a location would be inhospitable for any life, much less a human. The inhabitants of Yawningmoon, named explicitly thus due to the moonlight penetrating the cracks in the geologically active earth, are a hardy lot, dealing in industrial trade. The Crustal Mortars are known amongst traders for being the primary source of refined metals and glassware. The traditional caste system is revoked in favor of a more egalitarian hierarchy that consisting of two classes. The lower classes are known as Children and primarily engage in trade work. The Children of the Hearth engage in metallurgy, the Children of the Wheel pottery and sculpturing and the Children of the Deep responsible for overseeing mining operations. The upper class are known as the Children of the Fuming God who are the clerics of the Yawningmoon. Using noxious emissions from geothermal vents to fuel their visions, they share their faith with the other Children after a busy day of toiling with jolly shanties.

Of course, there are countless other eco-domes mentioned by word of mouth. The Truncated Oasopolis of Erranea. The Savannah-Shrouded Byesh Calipharchy. The Indigo Sky-Lattice of Occ. These names and more have been uttered by True Kin who have come into Qud.

Apart from the innumerable Eco-Domes located across the world, the closest region to Qud is a land known as the Sunderlies, located far west of the Moghra’Yi. In these sandstone bluffs lie great cave cities known as freehold where the tides of the Pale Sea break upon the Shore of Songs. Although there is a considerable population of mutants in the Sunderlies, a large portion of the demographics is composed of true folk clans, unmutated cave humans who emerged from the depths of the Sunderlies. However, multiple civil wars and internal strife have reduced their number to a paltry five consisting of Oth, Athenreach, Perth, Irisveld and Goldmouth. Each freehold is controlled by a clan and their vassals.

The eponymous freehold of Oth was established by Oth, the freeman, and a clan of espers known as the Tyrants. Ruled by the Free Seer, Oth maintains an geopolitical advantage over other freeholds through having their leader possessing psionic prescience. Debate remains whether or not the caste of non-psionic workers are there of their own will or psychically thralled by the Tyrants to remain there as their servants. Oth is seen by other espers as a safe haven from other psychic assassins that seek to absorb their mind, although, the cost is of their own autonomy and forced membership into the Tyrant Cult.

Athenreach, once a humble fishing kingdom, is now the center of the Eustace-Sutta monastery. Originally established by mountain and river nymph clans, civil war and strife from a succession crisis led to the local population embracing the Eustace-Sutta discipline. There is considerable tension between the fishing villages who worship the river and mountain gods and the mass majority of the other population who are all initiates and followers of the Eustace-Sutta doctrine. It is common to see vast groups of pilgrims walking across the mountains to Athenreach.

Old and mighty Perth is the oldest of all the Freeholds, maintained by the founding trio of Clans Karst, Sotur and Rowen. Being the first to set foot and establish settlement in the Sunderlies, they possess the most land, the most armies, the most resources and the most influence out of all the freeholds. However, interclan rivalry exists with Sotur battling the ambitions of Clans Karst and Rowen in an attempt to maintain stability.

Irisveld is an pastoral freehold that is the beating heart that supplies all other freeholds with sustenance and quench. Their fields of verdant green are a blessed sight in the arid region and the beauty of their people is beyond compare, well, in terms of human subjectivity. To most mutant species and sentient plants, they are unremarkable. Due to claims perpetuated by the ruling class of Irisveld about their genetic purity, this has made their population ripe for recruitment by the Putus Templar, much to the disapproval of other freeholds.

Goldmouth, unlike most freeholds, was not established by a clan and instead, through the collaboration of several merchants' guilds. They are the most affluent and wealthy of all the freeholds, forgoing a monarchical system in favor of a council composed of representatives from each guild. However, excessive lending and bribery has led to severe corruption. Its relative youth compared to other freeholds

Alas, for all that I have said, our knowledge is still incomplete.

What lies beyond the Deathlands?

Are there other cities beyond the Pale Sea?

How many other Eco-Domes exist beyond Qud?

What other civilizations lie beyond Qud and the Sunderlies?

Races


The number of beings that inhabit Qud range from the atomic to the gigantic, to the pacifist to the bloodthirsty and from the humanoid to the inhuman.

Mutated humans are the most populous race in Qud, outnumbering their True Kin cousins by ten to one, and the most varied. From gills to quadrapedic feet and scaled skin, mutants are the new normal. It’s said that no two mutants in Qud are ever the same. However, from natural selection and geographical pressures overtime, new species have erupted from the loose conglomerate of mutated humans.

The urshiib are a race of bipedal quilled albino bears who have a propensity for engineering and technological modification. Most live in the closed off enclave of Grit Gate although a few can be spotted walking around Qud. They are a peaceful race, concerning themselves with more philosophical and abstract matters, and rarely engage in combat.

The dromads, otherwise known as the man-camels of Moghra’Yi, are occupational caraveners and merchants who travel from and to Qud across the Great Salt Desert, bringing with them riches from afar. They are typically the most knowledgeable when it comes to the affairs of foreign regions. Great Saltbacks, alabaster turtles the size of houses, are typically used by the dromads to carry their heavy load of goods afar as well as for transport.

Otherwise, this leaves us with the less refined races. The snapjaws are a crude, motley group of hyena scavengers who have easily spread all over Qud. The vast majority of snapjaw kind has been forced under the warlike ambitions of snapjaw dictators who seek to conquer and ransack the neighbouring settlements of Qud. The jungle-dwelling goatfolk, in spite of their higher level of organisation, are not behooved as some might think. These 6 foot tall muscular bipedal goatmen are aggressively territorial and will gore any stranger on sight with their horns or chop them to bits with their carbide weaponry.

Unlike mutants, sapient animals are fewer in comparison despite the abundance of wildlife in Qud. Only a few members of any species are capable of transitioning into sapience. The mayor of Kyukukya is the foremost example of this, being a fully sentient albino ape fully capable of cognizant speech. Typically, sapient members of a species act as de facto leaders of small tribes.

Unmutated humans are known amongst the denizens of Qud as True Kin. In spite of their genetic purity, some True Kin, particularly from the Putus Templars, suffer from extreme physical deformities due to excessive inbreeding and genetic alterations to prevent mutations. They are perhaps the only individuals in Qud able to properly interface and utilize the lost artifacts that the Eaters left behind. True Kin are the only race in Qud properly capable of undergoing cybernetic augmentations to bolster their dwindling organic physiology.

Alas, who can forget about the wide range of sentient plants in Qud. These can range from fractus, flowers, lily pads and the odd vine. Despite their unassuming appearance, they are some of the oldest and wisest races in all of Qud with a lifespan measured in millenia. In order to communicate with other species, plants in Qud have developed a form of universal language through the quivering of their leaves. Most species of sentient plants within Qud are formal members of the Consortium of Phyta with the exception of fungi.

Robots found in the chrome ruins of Qud are typically hostile towards all organic lifeforms as a result of their pre-Sultanate subroutines. Robots that have integrated within Qud’s societies often do so as a result of malfunctions, programming errors or being built intentionally to do so. An example of the latter are the chromelings, miniature humanoid droids built by the Barathrumites to assist with their experiments.

We come to my race. Newly sentient beings. We only number by a dozen but we are slowly emerging everyday. From folding chairs to walls of fulcrete, newly sentient beings can be anyone and anything. The typical way to create a newly sentient being is to artificially induce a nervous system within an object through use of nano-neuro animators or concentrated brain brine in high enough doses. Regardless, the experience of being a newly sentient being is unempathisable. Imagine that you wake up from a long nap and suddenly realize that you’re a door with feelings. Could you imagine that?

No, I didn’t think so.

Mutations


Mutations can roughly categorized into two types: physical mutations that alter the physiology of the mutant or mental mutations which allow the user to use psychic abilities. There are three specific morphotypes of mutants: chimeras who can only express physical mutations, espers who can only exhibit mental mutations and hybrids who display both types of mutations. With the exception of non-biological beings such as robots, anyone is able to mutate given the right circumstances.

Physical mutations can vary from more subtle mutations such as infravision, enhanced regeneration and hyperflexibility to the more visible such as wielding bioorganic hydro-pressure cannons, growing multiple noses, a prehensile tail or a belly face. Like a muscle, wielders can condition or shift the growth of their mutations as they mature over time through practice. Mutagens can be used to spur up growth but it is ill-advised as severe physical deformities can occur during this process.

Mental mutations allow the wielder to achieve psionic powers and are generally considered to be more dangerous than their relatively mundane chimeric counterparts. From freezing entire fields to imploding warriors in their own armor, there is little an esper can’t accomplish if they are trained well enough.

Those who accrue significant mental mutations over time begin to exhibit a phenomenon known as a psychic glimmer. From hypothesis and observation, we conclude that this glimmer is a form of extra dimensional energy that emanates from an esper. The degree of this exponentially increases with the esper’s abilities. From the perspectives of espers we have interviewed, the glimmer is the radiance of the soul. Whilst undetectable by normal means, it is visible to other espers who describe it as a “ window to the self”. The more powerful an esper’s psychic glimmer is, the more likely they will be hunted down by psychic beings whose appetite will only be satiated by melding their minds with the esper in question, usually killing or reducing the esper to a catatonic state.

I weep for those espers whose minds have been consumed. If only we Wardens could do more to stave off this threat.

Major Factions of Qud


The Barathrumites - A hidden enclave of technologically savant urshiib, albino quill bears, hidden underneath the abandoned complex of Grit Gate. All follow the leadership of Barathrum the Old, an elderly urshiib who is said to have existed since the dawn of Qud itself. Although they live an isolated life from the rest of Qud, they do occasionally share their technology with other settlements and accept non-urshiib as apprentices from time to time. Their willingness to do so has led to the proliferation of tinkers, both human and non-human, throughout every village in Qud. Sworn enemies of the Putus Templars.

The Putus Templars - A violent fascistic sect of extremist True Kin who seek to rid the world of mutants by any means necessary, claiming to be the original descendants of the Eaters of Earth and therefore, the sole inheritors of Qud itself. However, their dedication towards genetic purity has led to severe inbreeding, even amongst the standards of most True Kin arcologies. They have attempted to circumvent the toll of genetic disorders by using a cocktail of tonics and heavy cybernetic augmentation. They inhabit the north-east of Qud’s jungles and are one of the worse threats to the sanctity of civilization in Qud. Enemies to everyone outside of True Kin.

The Consortium of Phyta - An organisation of sentient plants and flora who are ironically one of the most technologically advanced factions in Qud, rivalling the Barathrumites in expertise and surpassing them in knowledge of Eater history due to their location near the Spindle. They are responsible for the transfer of information and local news in Qud through a network of sentient plant informants who use complex signals of pheromones to transmit data. Whilst more friendly than the templars, their moral values are considerably more stranger and off-putting than what most mutants are used to, bearing contempt towards most fleshy beings. However, this attitude is only present in the more conservative members of the Consortium with progressive members adopting a more holistic view of other species.

They have a considerable hatred of fungi and have banned any fungi from joining their organisation. No, don’t expect them to explain their reasons to a fleshy outsider like you unless you’re one of their own.

Friends and allies to nobody except if you have enough water.

The Fellowship of Wardens - A loose guild of law keepers whose members are commonly hired by almost every settlement and village to protect them from outside threats. Each warden is unsupervised and given total independence on how to handle situations with the settlement they are charged with protecting. Notable for their lax standards for acceptance which means anyone of any race or background can join the Wardens. Hold the annual Warden’s Moot on the fourth day of Ut Yara Ux, a conference for Wardens and representatives from every faction to report and discuss the current state of affairs in Qud. Friends to everyone except the Putus Templars.

The Mechanimists - The most dominant religion in Qud and beyond the Moghra’Yi. Followers worship a pantheon of deities known as the Argent Fathers. They primarily revere the ‘chrome’, a term that refers to advanced technology abandoned by the Eaters of Earth, seeing it as holy and a part of the Kasaphascence. One of their central beliefs is the ideal of chrome guilt, the belief that all individuals who use these complex machines incurs a heavy price on their soul. In order to redeem themselves, they must cast off all artifacts in their possession and live a life of technological chastity. However, the Fellowship of Wardens have observed high ranking members of the Mechanimist clergy using artifacts and are unsure whether or not to point out this contradiction in the next Warden's Moot.

The identities of the Argent Fathers, unlike the Sultanate, are known and not up for debate with each of their statues erected in the center of the Six Day Stilt. There is some turmoil between sects about whether or not the Argent Fathers were earthly beings or not but it is this table’s belief that the very existence of Reseph puts all claims of immortality to rest. There are seven primary gods that the Mechanimists worship, including the Kasaphascence.

Shekhinah, the Father of Fathers. The lead deity of the Argent Fathers and the one most worshipped by the faith. Considered to be the creator of all life, organic and inorganic alike.

Bel the Protector. Stated to be a warrior of incomprehensible weight whose epochal aegis blotted out the stars.

Carthax the Athlete. The man of motion who inspires Qud’s mutants and true kin to accomplish physical feats of athleticism.

Dagon the Orator. His curled frown of pride and ego teaches all to cow underneath his spoken word.

Nisroch the Star Mason. Sitting on top of the earth, he weaves the stars with his neutronium hammer and tongs, forging great works in the heavens.

Reseph the Above. The foiler of mercury and healer of the sick.

And lastly, the Kasaphascence. The mother of all chrome where the spillage of her womb birthed all of creation. She ranks the highest amongst all of the Argent Fathers, even Shekhinah.

Though the number of myths surrounding the Argent Fathers and the Kasaphascence, though only two are of great importance. The first is the Sacred Joining, whereby the Argent Fathers first discovered the Kasaphascence and used her womb to birth the chrome of Qud, akin to a cosmic furnace. The second is the Edification whereby the primordial metal birthed from the Kasaphascence womb was used by the Argent Fathers to shape the ruins of Qud.

Different believers of the faith will pick and choose who is worthy of their worship, based on their own interpretation. The favoring of one Argent Father over the other has led to schisms within the faith, leading to formation of groups such as the Cult of the Coiling Lamb who dedicate themselves to the teachings of Reseph.

Generally friends to everyone except those who defile their holy monuments.

Technology of Qud


The works of the Eaters of Earth dot the soil of Qud. At the height of their power, the Eaters explored a hundred thousand heavens, shaped flesh into euclidean geometries, siphoned starblood and negotiated with beings from beyond the aether. Ever since their fall, more and more of their technology has been lost to the ages and rendered unstudiable by their own efforts by future generations. The Barathrumites and the Consortium of Phyta are the only independent entities within Qud who are responsible for the progress, development and rediscovery of old and new technologies left behind by the Eaters. Due to Qud being the center of Eater civilization, adventurers and arconauts commonly venture into its chrome caves or ruins in search of lost artifacts left behind.

Data disks are the most typical method of transferring and obtaining blueprints, information or info signatures from one person to another through psycho-crystallic inscription. Though their construction varies between each tinker, data disks are invaluable in their ability to instantly communicate vast quantities to an individual’s brain at a moment’s notice, provided the individual’s psyche and intellect is capable of handling the vast strain.

Modern day cybernetics in Qud are only usable by those who lack mutations, or True Kin. A mutant who attempts to use cybernetics will find themselves at the wrath of the Eater’s built in ‘purity’ countermeasures designed to harm those deemed unworthy. There are very few ways to be safely modified without extreme harm and to this date, there has been no mutant or true kin who has been able to produce stable cybernetics. Usage of a Becoming Nook is the common way to implant cybernetics. However, this comes with the caveat of having to use rare cybernetic credits, a once common currency in the Eater civilization, to upgrade your license and increase the quality of your procedure.Cybernetics can range from benign such as telescopic vision and built in drug synthesizers to more invasive augmentations such as detachable forearm zweihanders or jet powered rocket feet.

Transportation within Qud is limited to walking on foot with faster means considered to be unwise due to the rough terrain and number of hazards that favor more caution. Personal teleportation through the use of hand held recoilers is another method but is rare and limited in terms of power and versatility. Recoilers typically can only be coded to a single coordinate and require rare power cells in order to function properly.


History and Culture of Qud

If we must start at a beginning, it begins with the Eaters. The influence of the Eaters of Earth are heavy in Qud with the Spindle being just one of the main examples of their legacy. The chrome ruins buried underneath loam and soil were once their homes, their government, their lives. We walk on their history yet we’ve nearly forgotten all about them. We know little about them, yet, ironically, they are responsible for Qud as it is.

After the Eaters, the Sultans took advantage of the chaos left in their wake, taking charge to define the past, present and future of the land. Consisting of six rulers, each of their eras has left their mark on Qud and represented severe technological decline and loss of knowledge. The history of their accomplishments and lifetime is ill-defined and has been lost. Little has been officially archived and historians of Qud believe that many of the ‘Sultans’ worshipped by various settlements may be false along with their proclaimed feats. Memorials can be found scattered all over Qud as well as abandoned cities and ruins that were built in their name.

Only the identity of the Sixth and Last Sultan, Reseph, is universally agreed upon. Unlike his predecessors, Reseph is widely beloved throughout all of Qud for defending its populace from the Gyre, a series of malignant plagues that befell Qud, and the Girsh, hideous black-blooded abominations from the deep. Sightings of Reseph as a ghostly apparition have been spreaded by wayfarers and debunked by scholars who claim it to be the result of hallucinations brought on by excessive dehydration.

Throughout your travels, you may come across the phrase ‘Live and Drink’. Whilst this may seem strange to you, it is a common greeting of respect throughout Qud in recognition of the profound status of Water. Unlike other regions, potable water is rarer in Qud and even rarer to properly harvest. Most water found in Qud is either contaminated for purification to work or far too saline for consumption. Its inhabitants cannot count on precipitation as rainstorms rarely occur in Qud. When weather does occur, it is not the relief of fresh water but sleets of burning acid rain and the shearing brunt of glass storms from the Moghra’Yi.

Such is the economic importance of water that it is the main currency in the region, measured by the dram. The infamous water Barons maintain a stranglehold over the market price of goods in the region due to their monopoly over most available water sources. Qud’s economy is therefore built on a simple barter system where valuables are traded for other items with precious water being used to balance the transaction.

We must not forget about the water ritual, though.

The water ritual is the key facet that underscores Qud’s diplomacy. The exact details and minutiae of the water ritual differs amongst every culture and every settlement but the constant between all of these variations is that it involves the act of selflessly giving your own water to another person. It is the act of unity, of trust, of friendship, of a sacred connection so deep that severing it would be akin to tearing your heart out. Alliances have been forged, trades brokered and marriages annulled due to this time-honored ritual. To enact a water-ritual with a stranger is to call them your water-sibling.

Killing or betraying your water-sibling is a horrific act and doing so is considered a crime greater than any act of murder, robbery, rape or slavery. It is morally indefensible. Exile is the least of your worries. Death would be too kind for you.

Glossary


Artifacts - Items or technology too complex for the average individual to comprehend.

Arcology/Eco-Dome - Name for the self-sustainable domed environments that most True Kin live in.

Baetyl - A group of mysterious spherical robots who are said to offer unimaginable rewards in return for a certain favor.

Dram - Shorthand term for a unit of measurement for liquids and unit of currency in Qud.

Carbide - A lightweight blue metal alloy constructed from nanotubes. Typically oulded into weapons and armor.

Fullerite - A dense black heavy metal found in synthetic deposits in the chrome caves of Qud.

Crysteel/Zetachrome - Two types of synthetic metal unique to Qud itself. Though both are different in their uses, their origins are the same. Both are synthesized by manipulating the very fundamental forces of space-time to form star-enriched plasma into solid material. No current method exists for producing either of these metals, though, the Consortium of Phyta has claimed success in producing shards of crysteel.

Gaslight - Term for a type of weaponry that emits an ethereal blade of energy from a hilt instead of metal.

Live and Drink - Standard greeting and parting phrase in Qud. Other races and factions have twisted the phrase for their own uses as to reflect their culture.

Parasang - The metric unit of distance in Qud, with one parasang the equivalent of the distance travelled for one hour on a Great Saltback. Competes with the imperial unit, Svymax, for dominance of the standard system of distance measurement in Qud.
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/\/ Whimsical Ventures of Fantastical Retrofuturism /\/




18th of Uulu Ut, 3 A.R (After Reseph)

Dreams are the poems of the mute, the paintings of the blind and the music of the deaf. It is a master of your body but a prisoner to your unconscious whims. This time, though, you are falling. Endlessly towards a dodecahedron in the void. It whispers to you in seductive equations, to subsume into code and become one with it. Like the crowing of a dawnwing, Qud’s discordant melodies rouse you from your peaceful chrysalis of slumber.

You awake in one of the sandstone abodes of Hasgahem, a village situated on the canyon springs. Fishing lines dip inside scillintating mineral pools, eddies of azure gas swirling in their depths. Thatches of gnarled dogthorns provide plentiful shade from the sweltering sun.

As you recollect your memories like the fragmented remains of a jigsaw, you piece together the present. A trio of dromads, members of the expedition you were hired for, debate over the intricacies of wine trading in the wake of a cooling fireplace. Around you are meandering slopes of salt-encrusted rust, red rims etched down into bands of baked sediment. Further out, you take note of the distant surroundings.

To the west lies the eternal expanse of Moghra’Yi, the Great Salt Desert. The alien Spindle erupts in the northeast and cuts through the heavenly firmaments of Qud’s dappled sky. Qud’s jungles swarm the southeastern landscape over fossilized silver ruins of yore. The Chrome Ruins preside over the east and beyond that, violet clouds thunder ominously over the radioactive Deathlands.

Your stomach rumbles. A shrill series of barks alerts you to attention. Alu, the raccoon leader of the expeidtion,has invited you over along with the rest of the expedition to join in morning repast. Your appetite cannot deny his request as you walk over to the crowded table and find a empty seat. Whilst you satiate your hunger, you peruse the texts that lay on the thatched brinewood table to refresh your memory of the land.

Whilst you have successfully arrived at Qud, your journey in this fabled land hasn’t ended.

It has merely begun.

Live and drink, wayfarer.





Karsts is a linear science fantasy roleplay with elements of open-world sandboxing based on the fictional setting portrayed in the indie roguelike, Caves of Qud. Set in a distant post-apocalyptic future where the epoch of humanity has passed into mere myth; mutants, sentient fauna and flora along with extra-planetary beings pick over what remains of godlike civilizations shrouded by millenia of refuse. Multiple disasters, minor and world-shattering, over the aeons have driven the world into a quasi-medieval state where forgotten technology is slowly being rediscovered and repurposed.Those unblemished and genetically pure are known as True Kin and have survived in self-sustaining Eco-Domes, independent arcologies built from forgotten technology. Right now, society is in a precarious state of teetering between extinction and renaissance and no one knows which way the balance will tip.

One of the most prominent regions in this world is called Qud. Every wayfarer has their own words for how to describe Qud. Dangerous. Alluring. Bountiful. Beautiful. Horrifying. Captivating. It’s majesty knows no bounds yet chance is a cruel mistress here as one second of carelessness could lead to your death. It's ruins are the stuff of legend, attracting adventurers like a glowmoth towards a candle. You find yourself in this mythical land after becoming a member of a dromad funded archeological excursion, whether on purpose or by mistake. The reward was one part of your reason for joining but moreover was the mystery of Qud itself.

Don't fool yourself. You're no savior. You're no hero. You are not a legend. Well, not yet. Perhaps, you could become one.

In summary, think of this setting as the crazed lovechild of Gamma World and Dune who simultaneously had an affair with Adventure Time. It is a land of a thousand tales, stories of transhumanist philosophy, sentient agriculture, extraterrestrial archeology, political diplomacy, cuisine escapades, sapphic romance and cave spelunking. It’s experimental. It’s idiosyncratic. It draws from many places but creates its own path.

In terms of the genre, as implied in the subtitle as well as in the prior paragraphs above, this will be science fiction with a twist of pulp fantasy and a dash of classic action-adventure Indiana Jones thriller sensibilities.

If you’re still interested in joining this RP, please read on down below.

Player Guidelines and Rules


- Have fun.

- Treat others with respect as how you would want to be treated yourself, unless you have a massive inferiority complex, which in that case, don’t. This is a RP where outside of IC, we provide a friendly environment where players are free to engage and discuss with one another without fear of being drawn into toxicity. If anyone is acting in a manner that is disrupting the RP and causing other players to be uncomfortable, you will be ex-communicated to another dimension.

- Be fun and be open to worldbuilding. Forging your own headcanon, creating your own factions or suggesting ideas is wholeheartedly encouraged. The lore that I've provided is the foundation to imprint your own details. A key part of Qud is that it is a land of mystery where not even its most distinguished scholars have documented all of the world’s enigmas. Qud is vast and mysterious enough that reasonably any suggestion or theory could fit inside its vast smorgasbord of deliciousness. However, consult with the GM before suggesting or integrating lore within IC that provides systemic changes to the world itself.

- Standard conventions of roleplaying apply which means no metagaming, godmodding, munchkining, 4th wall breaking or inclusion of 18+ content that would violate RPG’s TOS in your IC posts. Note that mature themes do not mean writing graphic erotica.

- Think fun. When creating your character, your character shouldn’t be your standard fantasy hero or adventurer who is seemingly an expert in every field possible with some arbitrary weakness. I want real, fleshed out characters that have lived a life in this world and treat what would be strange to us as mundane. I want dynamicity. I want depth. I want so much depth that I could dig through your character’s backstory and find myself in China.

- Cooperation and communication are essential in this roleplay. Collaborative posting, although not essential, is allowed and encouraged if you are willing to do so. I will not force players to engage in collabs at any time during this RP.

- Know how to have fun with your post lengths. The writing I expect from players is quality over quantity with adherence to efficiency. I do not care how many words you write, although, this does not mean you can write one sentence and expect to get away with it. The minimum is one paragraph but I expect any player who joins this RP will know what expectations to set for themselves.

- There is no such thing as a posting schedule. That being said, players are expected to communicate frequently to the GM and other players if they are unavailable or have lost interest in this RP. Failure to do so after two weeks will result in the player being exiled to a chromatic plane of existence.

- Worship fun and feel free to sacrifice your character to maintain your personal autonomy of free time whenever you feel like it. You have no obligation to remain a member of this RP and you can freely request for your character to be shelved at any time. Do note that you can only make one character for this RP.

- You must accept the fact that I will be unfair to you whenever possible and that durian is the superior fruit to all other fruits in existence.

Character Sheet


You can format your character sheet in whatever way you wish from this example format but you must include all articles of information within.





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War.

War never changes.

Light and then, darkness.

That was how the long, messy and protracted end of civilization came to be. The great cities and governments of old were consumed by the atomic inferno that they created and sought to use to benefit themselves.

Yet, for many, it was not the end. Near the twilight of the 21st century, underground shelters of steel and rock known as Vaults were built in a last ditch effort to avoid armageddon. Those fortunate enough to gain residency survived unscathed. When the doors opened, they spread out across the ashes of the new world to repopulate, reestablish and rebuild. History would repeat itself again as new societies and tribes retracing the footsteps of their legacies competed and waged war with one another in this blasted hellscape.

As a century passed and the West burgeoned with the flames of civilization, the East remained eerily quiet. Around campfires, traders and vagrants from the east speak of an emerald land at the end of the mighty Mississippi, down by the mire of the Bayou Marsh.

They called it the Crescent. The monarchial Orleans Empire rules over the French Quarter and its 10 districts, determined to bring prosperity with an iron fist. However, the Empire faces threat from instability and dissidents. The Neo-Confederates seek to restore the slave trade to its former glory whilst the Liberte movement aims to restore the principles of democracy and justice in a merciless wasteland.

Deep in the Bayou, where shadows creep and crawl, the Masquerade, an order of witch doctors and shamans, plays and pulls strings to expand their ever increasing web of influence. Meanwhile, preying on the chaos, the Many Rivers Protecterate institutes a vision of anarchy amongst its many disorganized members who traverse the Gulf and the wider Carribean in search of reward.

You are a passenger of the Colorado Vagabond, a merchant ferry that is just finishing its maiden voyage. You came to the Crescent in search of a better future, yet, what happens next is not what you entirely expected…...



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THE WILD CAT
Theodore 'Ted' Grant, 31 (b. 1937)
Based in Las Vegas, Nevada
Inactive since approximately 1937


Character Concept





Key Notes



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A Dystopian Satirical Capitalism Nightmare Simulator



$$$






$$$



Day 2048 305,896 Does It Even Matter? 1

I'm on my last crayon. We ran out of our supply of Kraft Mac N Cheese a few days ago. ArtLine has decided that we should start rationing all our edibles, which includes my box of crayons. I managed to bargain with him to keep more but he would only let me keep one. Everything else is going into what that Greengrocer calls a 'gluten-free recycled stew'. The smell almost makes me want to barf.

It has been several shopping trips since we were forced to flee the Books Department. Although I don't want to admit it, it is likely that I am one of the last Archivists left remaining.

Nevertheless, it is my duty as a disciple of Dewey and an Archivist to record down history for the next generations of future aislers and lifters to use on their own trips.






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GRAVEYARD SHIFT







[HALF MOON BAY - UNITED STATES OF AMERICA - 201X]

CONGRATULATIONS!

YOU'VE MANAGED TO RECENTLY ACCEPT THE LUCRATIVE POSITION OF BEING AN EMPLOYEE AT INNSMOUTH, A BURGEONING BRAND OF KONBINI STORES ON THE EAST COAST.

....BUT TROUBLE BREWS IN THIS CITY....

.....RUMORS HAVE SPREAD ABOUT ITS ECCENTRIC INHABITANTS, SOME INNOCUOUS, OTHERS MORE CONCERNING.....

.....ELDRITCH HORRORS PREY ON THE STREETS. MASKED FIGURES STALK IN THE NIGHT. UNEXPLAINABLE ANOMALIES PERMEATE THE LAND.....

.....THE MIRACLES OF THE 21ST CENTURY HAVE FOSTERED A WEB OF CONSPIRACY, CRIMINALITY AND CORRUPTION THAT THREATENS TO SPIRAL OUT OF CONTROL.....

.....IN THE MIDST OF THIS, VISITORS FROM THE COSMOS AND DESECRATED DEITIES FROM DESTITUTE DIMENSIONS BEGIN TO STIR......

.....WITH ONLY YOUR WITS AND GUTS, YOU MUST SURVIVE AND MANEUVER YOUR WAY AROUND IN THIS DOOMED CITY WHILST PRESERVING YOUR JOB......

.....YOUR NEW LIFE BEGINS NOW.....




8:00 PM

“ ….Local meteorologists are reporting highly unusual weather behaviour over Koreatown and advise residents in the affected area to stay indoors until further notice. In other news, we are awaiting confirmation of the capture of the wanted Belgrade Snatcher, a notorious serial killer who has been responsible for - FZZZZTTTT - organ theft - FFFZZZTTZZZ - one thousand - FFFZZZTTTT - massa- FZRRZZTTTT“

The audio fizzles out at the last second of the broadcast much to your dismay. It’s the only thing that’s keeping you from nodding and dozing off. Your face resting against the counter in the crook of your arm, you reach out towards the radio and paw at the air lazily like an overfed cat. It’s surprising how much your first shift has sapped the will to move out of you. It doesn’t help that the night sky in Half Moon Bay is almost hypnotic, maroon cotton candy clouds soaked in the fathomless expanse of the glittering, dripping star-studded sky. It lulls you to sleep, alongside the croaking of the ACU unit outside and the melodic hum of the electric mosquito trapper above you.

The bell jingles. The sound makes you stand up straight at attention, spine straight like a ruler. Your eyes flit over to the security camera where most likely footage of your lapse in judgement was recorded. You then look over to your uniform, iron-pressed and scented fresh with cellophane wrapping. Signing at the error you notice, your fingers reach over and adjust the name-tag pinned to the left breast of your breast to be more straight.

You'll have to inform your manager about this tomorrow. It should be spelt……



CHOOSE ONE

[X] - Zhang Hae-Sung (The Keyboard Wizard)

[X] - Ada Beaumont (The Janitorial Paladin)

[X] - Ola Christenoff (The Ex-Occult Cultist)

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It is lost to us.

The Durandal.

How could it be? That one of the Great Blades vanishes into the aether?

We must trace our steps back to the Old Aeon. A place where the Gargantuans wandered the unending expanse of salt and glass aimlessly under a sun that never set. Under the command of the Malakim, the Gargantuans weaved the earth with their fingers, knotted the sky with their breaths and sewn the stars in with their wills. However, ennui grew into curiosity and soon, desire. Thus, the Gargantuans began to grow, threatening to unturn the Loom. Thus, it was that the servant turned on the master.

The battle shook the heavens and for every a hundred giant, a angel fell to the earth. Throughout this conflict, six Great Blades were forged from the primordial pandemonium. The land as we know it was shapen from their corpses and new life emerged from the corpses of the Gargantuans. It was then that the Great Blades found themselves new wielders.

Kamocek, the Miracle Sword, plucked from the stars.

Nandoka, the Joyous Kris, smithed from the enlightenment of free thought.

Shamshir, the Gibbous Scimitar, discovered by serendipity in the Burning Sea.

Calesvol, the Sovereign Spear, pulled from stone by Men and stolen by the Fin.

Skofnung, the Cerine Cleaver, quenched in blood by the Lutin Lords of the Fell-Lands.

And lastly, Durandal, the Enduring Scythe, wrought from the will and courage of the Gargantuan.

Together, the Great Blades seeded the foundations of the Occitente, used to commit great and terrible works. The New Aeon was born and the First Kingdoms, named after the Great Blades, were established.

When the blade is lost, the scabbard withers. Once tale spread of the blade being lost, the Roi attempted to forge a new blade to fill the scabbard, resulting in the Sundering. War soon spread, flooding the rivers with blood, and the kingdom of the Enduring Scythe, once mighty, became burdened with sorrow and strife. Beasts of all manner and make wreak havoc on peasant tithes. Armies of bandit kings roam the roads. Lawlessness had taken root in place of lords that fled their duties.

Who will be the one to save our kingdoms?





Frayed Tapestry is an epic medieval play by post RP of swords, sorcery and cannons that draws inspiration from the Soulsborne Franchise, Berserk and the Black Company.

Set in the far away lands of the Occitente, we set our eyes on Durandelle, one of the Blade Kingdoms that safeguards the Great Blade that earnt its namesake - Durandal, the Enduring Scythe. For generations, Roi Perriere Olander and his dynasty have been the sole wielders of Durandal, using its powers to bring an age of prosperity and peace.

Well, until it disappeared. Then, a kingdom suddenly became kingless and an empty throne attracts pretenders by the dozens.

For two centuries, the Curators of the Blade have been searching for the sword. Each year since its disappearance marks the descent of Durandelle and its territories further into chaos. Warlords, nobles, conniving Fin and Lutin lords, cults and many more factions have dueled over its principalities, splitting the land into multiple territories with uncontested blighted lands in between, ravaged by the taint of enochian magicks and rotting corpses. Bands of sellswords and mercenaries have gradually replaced armies of knights and squires as codes of chivalries have been replaced in favor of contracts of coin. Furthermore, the loss of a Great Blade has bred paranoia into the hearts of the Kingdoms of the Occitente as they seclude themselves further from one another.

As more searchers die, go mad or suffer ignoble fates in their quest to find the sword, the Curators have been forced to recruit from less worthier stock to supplant their dwindling armies of knights and royals , all of whom have decried the quest for Durandal to be a foolish one. This includes prisoners, brigands, thieves, cultists and all manner of men and women who would have been sent to the gallows without their intervention.

They are known as False Searchers.

You are one of them.

Whether you were innocent or guilty of your acts, the Blade Searchers have decreed that you be a part of their quest.

TL;DR: You're a medieval suicide squad that has been hired to get an item that is responsible for the political stability of a continent.

I am looking for a total of 4-7 players at the moment. I am also willing to have 1 or 2 more co-GMs depending on the number of players that sign up.




RULES

Everyone within this RP is expected to obey the clauses outlined in RPG’s official rules, along with the following to ensure that no problems arise.

1) Put On Your Grasses

- Be respectful to other players in this RP and avoid uncivil behaviour in the OOC that may cause others to be uncomfortable. Harassment and flaming will not be tolerated.
- Don’t be a dick. Leave whatever baggage you may have at the door. If you continue being a dick, I’ll boot your dick and your ass from this RP.
- The word of the GM is final. If you try and refute any of the GM’s decisions, you better have a good reason for doing so.
- Please treat and discuss sensitive, controversial and or mature topics in a respectful and nuanced manner. In regards to portrayal of sexual themes in IC, all interactions that involve extreme explicit sexual imagery of any sort shall be conducted within PMs until the day that the Guild permits to allow showing of explicit NSFW content on its public site.

2) Jolly Cooperation

-Collaborations are heavily encouraged between two or more players, independent of GM mandated collaborations, in order to break up the monotony in waiting for someone to post.

-Discussion of the narrative, independent worldbuilding or providing narrative suggestions to the GM is also encouraged. I want criticism, dammit, so you better give me some if you think I’m messing up.

3) The Arbitrary Quality Formerly Known As Good Writing

- The general rule for writing is that quality matters over quantity, although having both of them in equal amounts is better.

- A minimum of two paragraphs is expected within your writing.

4) Rain Check

- There is no strict posting schedule which you must adhere to.
- However, please do message me whenever you may have an IRL event that you are preoccupied with or whether you are disinterested in continuing.
- If you are inactive for a period of 3 weeks or so in both the OOC and the IC, I will take it as a sign that you are no longer able to participate and you will be booted from the RP.

5) Have Fun
- Make Fun.
- Be the Fun.
- Screw the No-Fun Constables.
- Scream Fun
- Worship Fun




LORE

Settlements of Durendelle

Races













Esoterica

Sanctioned









Unsanctioned









The Greater Occitente













Factions of Durendelle




















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RED MARKETS
DEAD IN DEPRESSION







DEBT RISING//CASUALTIES MOUNTING//PROFITS SINKING//MARKETS CRASHING


Depression

1 : an act of depressing or a state of being depressed: such as
a)(i) : a state of feeling sad :
DEJECTION
anger, anxiety, and depression
a)(ii) : a mood disorder marked especially by sadness, inactivity, difficulty in thinking and concentration , a significant increase or decrease in appetite and time spent sleeping, feelings of dejection and hopelessness , and sometimes suicidal tendencies
bouts of depression
suffering from clinical depression

2: a lowering of physical or mental vitality or of functional activity

3: a long and severe recession in a economy or market





Civilisation may have fallen but the American Dream lives on.

Think about it. The Great Depression didn’t wake us up. Black Monday didn’t wake us up. The 2008 housing crisis sure as hell didn’t. The Education Default didn’t, either. Did people really think that the Crash would end the markets?

The biggest trick the governments of the Recession ever pulled on the world was that the Blight led to the Crash.

We all know the Blight wasn’t the cause. It was the death knell, the straw that broke the camel’s back. Overpopulation, poverty, climate change, wars and an economic down-spiral of debts and power hungry corporate oligarchs fostered a Petri dish of instability, ripe enough for the Blight to proliferate.

We’re arriving at the sixth anniversary of the Crash and it’s a marvel at how many more euphemisms they can chalk up to cover their own sins. The mountain of bodies in the Mississippi? Human error. The nuking of our northern neighbours? Preemptive action. The harvesting and experimentation of individuals from the Loss? Scientific endeavours. Some survivors in the Loss I know act shocked but this is just the same crap they’ve been pulling on us. Only difference is that the scapegoat is the undead rather than poor people or some foreign country west of the Atlantic.

Ain’t that a fucking joke.

pg 42 of False Quarantine: A Taker’s Perspective On How Truth Became the New Disease




Dead in Depression is a forum quest that is set in the world of Red Markets and is run using Caleb Stokes proprietary Profit system.

The setting takes place in the aftermath of the Crash - a cataclysmic series of socio-economic and environmental crises bolstered by the arrival of a novel plague: The Blight.This caused the world to be divided up into quarantine zones known informally as the Recession and abandoned exclusion zones known as the Loss. The last remnants of old world governments maintain an iron-grip rule over the Recession to prevent outbreaks and protect their uninfected populace from the ravages of the Loss. On the other side of the wall lies isolated pockets of survivors - enclaves - who trade and squabble with one another over resources to survive and keep out those infected by the Blight. The new fuel of the post-Crash economy is Bounty: a form of capital that consists of identification documents from the previous citizens of America who now shamble around aimlessly in abandoned metropolises. Debit cards, doctor’s licenses, passports, job badges - if you have it, the governments of the Recession will pay you with ration cards. Thus began the creation of a new undead.

You are a Taker: a catch-all term for mercenaries and contractors in the Loss who take on contracts in exchange for payment in Bounty. Accumulate enough bounty and you can give yourself and your loved ones an all-expense guaranteed safe ride to the bowels of the Recession and life comfortably, albeit under the watch of the DHQS. It’s a risky gamble but the reward is enough to make most Takers risk it all. You’ve managed to travel all the way down towards the Crest - a community of coastal enclaves on the California coast in the hopes of securing enough Bounty to place yourself in a nice cushy position in the post-apocalypse.

Will you manage to successfully retire or take a permanent retirement in the ground? The choice is yours.

The quest is run using a version of Red Market’s propietary Profit System which will be explained piecemeal throughout the quest as we go along.










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" Do no harm. Protect the client. Follow the rules.

That's what we were taught.

Awful hard to stand by that rule when everyone in this city's out to harm you."




//NAME: Connie Zhu / Hui Jiang

//STREET NAME: Scalpel

//GENDER: Female

//AGE: 36

//AFFILIATIONS

- Trauma Team International (10 Years)

- Tyger Claws (3 Years)

- Afterlife Mercenary (Current)

//APPEARANCE: Connie embodies the spirit of a rough and tumble street hooligan caged by professionalism and conduct. Her curled hair is cut precisely in a bob cut, various knots interspersed throughout. Black bangs frame an angular face rimmed with eyebags and a pensive frown. Memories of a misspent youth mark her wiry body as dysfunctioning light-tattoos scribed in a fit of paternal rebellion blink all over her arms alongside a grievous burn mark on her neck as a result of hazing at TT bootcamp.

Scars of his time as a Trauma Team EMT riddle her body, dimpled pockets of faded bullet wounds glazing her chest, with a grievous jagged line of mottled skin crossing the flat of her belly By far, the most pressing reminder of her time in Trauma Team International is the sleek blue chrome that makes up most of her left arm and shoulder.

In terms of tactical gear, Connie uses a modified version of her old TT gear that has been jury-rigged by various techies over the years into something that looks downright primitive. When she’s not flatlining gangsters or busy resuscitating gonks, Connie wears an unassuming combination of chic gear, preferring a poncho hoodie that allows her to hide within crowds.

//HISTORY:



And thus, began Connie’s 20 weeks of hell. The first week, she couldn’t take shits properly as her body struggled to adjust to the near sadistic physical regimens her TO’s put through. TT bootcamp for her was a mixture of NCPD SWAT training and studying for a medical PhD. A TT EMT was expected to know the exact location of every single spinal nerve within the vertebral column and where exactly to administer epidural stims without a proper scan whilst being versed enough to commit hostage-rescue ops.

By the time Connie made it out and started her tours, she was tossed in the meat-grinder of NC’s combat zones. TTI was beginning to regrow the roots it had lost since the 4th Corpo War and with their growth in profits came the installation of new FOBs and offices across Night City and most of NUSA. Recruitment grew and after five years of service, Connie was promoted to the role of Senior EMT in the TTI. Connie grew in renown in TTI for both her compassionate treatment of non-clients as well as her almost suicidal tenacity to rescue her clients, the former of which her COs viewed as her being “ emotionally compromised on the line of duty”.

Then, it all came to shit one day. It was a normal call. A group of mercs who’d managed to pool together their eddies for one license in Heywood. A standard TT unit was assembled and when they got there, things seemed odd. No bodies on the ground. No signs of a firefight.

That was until their AV was crippled with a Kang-Tao EMP munition that sent Connie and her team tumbling down onto an electronics shop.

The situation had just transformed from a rescue to a firefight. The license was true and the client was injured but TTI had never considered that their client might have injured themselves on purpose. A group of Maelstroms had lured them into a trap with the goal being to hijack and commandeer their AV for their own use. Their comms were jammed thanks to Maelstrom netrunners.

Somehow, Connie and her team made it back to Watson with her team mostly unblemished and alive thanks to her leadership. However, with an arm missing and only a biro worth of blood left in her, Connie ended up on medical discharge for a month or so, receiving a new cybernetic arm courtesy of company policy and with over 2000 eddies of newly synthesized blood in her system.

Naturally, as TT began to reshuffle its books, Connie got axed off her position as Senior EMT. Elucidating the reasons behind her termination has been a constant source of frustration for Connie. Was it corporate backstabbing? One client complaint too many? Did her COs see her as a potentia liability? Regardless, she threw her generous severance package on the ground and with it, her company’s privileges. Whether out of good will or good luck, TTI didn’t stick to the standard protocol of removing company cybernetics, allowing Connie to retain much of her dignity as she packed her belongings and moved back to her familiar hometown of Little China in Watson.

No longer being a TTI employee, Connie hitched up with the Tyger Claws as a lone merc for a while under the employ of Wakoko Okada. Then, in 2077, when Arasaka Tower got hit for the second time in the 21st century, Connie found herself scratching the bottom of the barrel to find gigs and contracts to pass the time as mercs flooded the street, eager to pick up the remains of the Arasaka empire.

Nowadays, you can find her in some seedy corner of the Afterlife, schmoozing away on sake and reminiscing about the good old days of the 2050s.

//PLOTS AND GOALS:

CONNIE ZHU’S TO-DO LIST

1) Find out whoever fucking axed me from TTI and put their ass permanently in a cryo-bag.

2) Pay rent

3) Try to stop Dad’s hawker business from going under (and repair relationship?)

4) Find a good gig and fast.

//SKILLS: You don't become a senior Trauma Team EMT by pulling a few strings to work your way up the corporate hierarchy. Under Carrie Lachanan's guidance, the only way to move up the ladder is to prove yourself. Connie is a skilled paramedic and emergency surgeon, able to conduct routine amputations and open air surgeries to save an individual's life. If you don't want to be flatlined, she's the gun-toting angel you can rely on to save your ass from entering the pearly gates too early and having your sins judged by whatever cruel god made this sick joke of a world.

In addition, Connie is also trained in urban combat situations and hostage rescue operations, having coordinated a Trauma Team unit of her own for a period of five years before being terminated by TTI. Things often go pear-shaped in every Trauma Team call which has fostered a sense of adaptive intuition and reactive planning in Connie to allow her to respond to every situation with a calm and steady countenance.

//EQUIPMENT:

KT G-75 Submachine Gun - "Xiao" : The bastardized inbred cousin of the tried and true iron of Trauma Team International. This sucker performs admirably in your typical firefights but without the fun of automated reloading , custom porting to ensure zero heating issues and hyper-spectral radar guidance system. It sure does sucks that your guaranteed, free company supply of guided 5.45 mm hollow-point gyro-ammo runs dry after you terminate your contract, doesn't it?

Don't answer that question.

Medkit - A titanium toolkit containing all the bells and whistles needed to conduct back-alley surgeries and med ops in the most hazardous of environments. From air-hypos filled with various stimulants, pressurized tanks full of liquid oxygen, bonesaws, scalpels, stents and the works. Just don’t expect Connie to work as a ripper doc. It’s not her specialty.

Modified Trauma Team BDU - Connie’s old TT uniform, now with several more holes, scratches and with that classic logo scratched off, lest, she wants to risk a corporate lawsuit. The shins and elbows of the suit have been reinforced with kevlar padding with a thick plate of ballistic armor-gel at the front to support her vitals.

//CYBERWARE:

TTI-ECP-G-2060-V4.5 Articulating M-Class Cyberlimb (Modified) - The best that the nano-surgeons and biosculpters of Trauma Team International have to offer. Composed out of a mixture of lightweight ceramics and hybrid alloy poly-laminates, this cybernetic limb allows a higher degree of rotation and flexibility than normal organic homologues, allowing full 360 degree rotation of ulnar-radial joints. In addition, the synthetic carbon-myofilaments allow Connie to crush metal in her grip.

In addition, this cyber-arm still contains the full integrated suite of surgical and medical equipment that Trauma Team International gives to veteran Trauma Team paramedics including but not limited to: a broad spectrum medscanner, a high-voltage defibrillator, a selection of automated hypodermic syringes and a suture applicator.

Biomonitor - A built-in biomonitor on Connie’s left arm that reads out her vital signs. Can be customized in a variety of 64 colors.

Defunct Smart-Link - Allows a user to interact with smart-weaponry if it was operational. Thanks to TTI's built in ICE, no ripper doc thus far has been able to crack through it to allow Connie to use it.

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T H E D A Y W A L K E R
B L A D E


E R I C B R O O K S F U L L T I M E V A M P I R E H U N T E R N E W O R L E A N S
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:


" Vampires, man. Every motherfucker wants to ice-skate uphill to immortality these days."

Blade's a man stuck on the bridge between two worlds: night and day. The living and the dead. Monster and man. Luckily, he's chosen the side that doesn't suck blood for a living and mostly flipped the bird to the side that does. For fifteen years, Blade's been waging a one-man war against the forces of the night, safeguarding humanity from becoming prey in his hometown of New Orleans. Yet, in spite of all his efforts, Blade finds himself weary from being shunned from both worlds as an outsider, either out of fear or perceived betrayal of his heritage.

P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ):

Blade will largely be a Stationary Character who will be the keystone in most of the supernatural happenings that occur in New Orleans. It's a rich environment that's rife with storytelling potential that will allow for a myriad of interactions amongst obscure and popular characters that anyone chooses to play. Blade's storylines will attract characters of a mystical, gritty persuasion and players who have a deep interest in urban fantasy.

Issue 1: THE SANGUINE SYMPHONY

A vampire's plot afoot in New Orleans as a string of seemingly unconnected murders all have one thing in common: paper white corpses drained of blood. Only there's a problem. It's on the eve of Mardi Gras and all local vampire sects, regardless of affiliation, declare truce with the human race for a period of two weeks. No feedings, no kidnappings, no interfering with the livestock. With a full out war between the vampire clans of New Orleans on the horizon, Eric must delve into the seedy streets of the parish and find the true murderer before eternal twilight falls over New Orleans.

Characters Involved: Blade/The Daywalker, Morbius, Ragwoman

Number of Players: 2-3


SPECIAL ISSUE: BLOODLETTING

A vignette based narrative centered around Blade's days of yore as he vows vengeance against Deacon Frost and his master, Dracula.

Characters Involved: Blade/The Daywalker, Stick

Number of Players: Solo

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:


P O S T C A T A L O G:

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Your thirst is mine






A World Beyond Eons






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Premise


Hear me and halt, traveller, for I sift through the blue sands of Vaarn and speak these hallowed truths.

In the Age of the Titans, shrines of chrome and circuitry were erected everywhere to the the First Thinking Machines. The Titans. The hubris of humanity was their womb and the zenith of their civilization the seed. Peerless in thought and ethereal in being, the Titans governed with grace and were the suzerains of the stars. Then, a great and terrible war happened that cast the Titans off their thrones and this rust-ridden conflict was scarred in the legends as the Titanomachy.

In the Age of the Autarchs, Urth was clenched under the fist of the Autarchy, a coven of genetically enhanced god kings and queens. Unlike the Titans, their reign was marked by violence, cruelty and fear. Statues reaching to the heavens were carved in hand by throngs of slaves and abominations were cultivated in flesh vats to roam on Vaarn.

In the Age of the Great Collapse, the principalities of the Autarchy were sundered and the constellations bled into the land. Much has been lost from this period but like the Titans before them, the Autarchs were cast off from their golden thrones and across Urth, the monuments to their egos crumbled to dust.

It is now the Final Age, where the sunsets darken and the sunrises dim every second.

The wreckage of countless eons litters the parched wastes of Vaarn, the desolate country that common folk call the blue ruin. It is said that these sky-coloured sands hide the graves of the Autarchs; have swallowed the buried arcologies in which the true seed of humankind was preserved through the Great Collapse; conceal forgotten crypts of memory, decaying crystalline lattices of ancient ego-engines upon which the dusk-blue dunes encroach without pity.

From the New Hegemony to the south come drifters and dreamers, desecraters of the tech-tombs that lie sunken beneath the azure wastes. Light-years overhead, aurum-hulled craft ply their tender routes between the spheres, and miles below a pilgrim’s feet, strange wombs are kindled once more with life undreamed of.

These are the hinterlands, where humanity’s great works have fallen to everlasting decay, where machine, fungus, animal and more think to crown themselves our equal. The phthalo-sands, where newbeasts hunt proudly with boots upon their hind paws and chromepriests chant unending binary devotions to their nameless synthetic god. Only the desperate or the mad would seek to make a life here, to roam the blue desert, to sift these sands....

A fool's gander!





An Antique Land is a science-fantasy RP that takes place in an Earth (now known as Urth) that is completely unrecognizable from what we know. Enough time has passed for our sun to become a red giant and be on the verge of dying. In that period, hundreds of civilizations have risen and fallen, turning Urth into a junkyard of ruin and refuse.

One of these regions is Vaarn, a blasted wasteland of blue sand and chrome artifices. Multiple beings dwell within Vaarn: the mutated cacogen, the magnanimous True Kin, the burgeoning newbeasts, the mysterious mycomorphs and the reclusive synth. To the south of Vaarn is the New Hegemony, an imperial power composed of True Kin who aim to resurrect the glory days of the prior Ages. They are the unofficial rulers of Vaarn in law only but not in power for none can tame these azure dunes.

You are a part of a scavenger crew in these blue wastes, for better or worse. Whatever your intent is, be it riches, glory or a wanton search for purpose, your life is now firmly in the hands of Vaarn.




Map of Faa'rahad




Lore


Disclaimer: Some lore has been kept deliberately vague in order to allow for interpretation and creativity. Technology has not received a section because if you can think of it, it's there somewhere in the bowels of Vaarn.










Rules


- We came here to roleplay and not to fight, flame or enter feuds with one another. Treat all others the same way you would want to be treated (unless you're a verbal sadomachoist). All arguments should occur in the PMs and if I tell you to stop it, stop it.

- All writing must obey the conventions of RPGO's guidelines. This means no explicit adult material or erotica. If you want to embrace your inner freak in the sheets, then, do it in the DMs and if you want someone to do it with you, do it in the DMs.

- Know how to have fun with your post lengths. The writing I expect from players is quality over quantity with adherence to efficiency. I do not care how many words you write, although, this does not mean you can write one sentence and expect to get away with it. The minimum is one paragraph but I expect any player who joins this RP will know what expectations to set for themselves.

- Have fun worldbuilding! Vaarn is pretty much a blank canvas for you to plaster your crazy ideas onto. Everything that has happened in this world has pretty much already happened. If you have an idea and it feels natural, communicate it in the RP and it will most assuredly fit within the scope of this world. Was there a war in the past between mycomorphs and phyta that caused them to have their rivalry? Add it in! Is there an extremist sect of the New Hegemony who believes that imperial conquest of Vaarn is needed to acquire fresh genetic material to prevent inbreeding from destroying their population? Sure!

Do Faa Nomads spit in each others mouth as a way of - On second thought, disregard that idea.

- There is no such thing as a posting schedule. That being said, players are expected to communicate frequently to the GM and other players if they are unavailable or have lost interest in this RP. Failure to do so after two weeks will result in the player being exiled to the astral planes of Golgothum.

- Have fun and feel free to sacrifice your character to maintain your personal autonomy of free time whenever you feel like it. You have no obligation to remain a member of this RP and you can freely request for your character to be shelved at any time. Do note that you can only make one character for this RP.

- You must accept the fact that I will be unfair to you whenever possible and that durian is the superior fruit to all other fruits in existence.


Character Sheet


Note: You can format your character sheet in whatever way you wish from this example format



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Onarr ee Yidlob


" Knowledge is key, but what have you sods done with it? Hoarded it all to yourselves, treasuring it for generations like the wyrms of yore my father told me about.

So, help me by Shune's light, if I have to hear one of you snobs preaching at me again about the sanctity of magic, I'll shove my bascinet up your arsehole."


15 | Male | Joruman | Artisan | 8


P E R S O N A L I T Y

❖ [Sarcastic]
❖ [Altruistic]
❖ [Visionary]
❖ [Studious]
❖ [Regretful]

Proud, quick with sarcastic barbs and having an almost fetishistic tendency to wear his bascinet no matter the situation, Onarr's witticisms and quirky habits disguise a highly inventive mind that constantly races with countless theories and conjectures about every facet of the natural sciences and the Five Magics. This primarily stems from exposure to a potent combination of Stresian philosophy from his mother and the emerging school of New Rationality which was birthed in the Republic of Joru. It is such that he can find himself entering fugue states for days on end, stuck in his laboratory with little to no human communication.

However, beneath his thirst for invention and progress, Onarr is primarily an individual who seeks knowledge for the sake of benefiting the many, most notably his family and his younger siblings. As such, he has a notable distaste for nobles and those of higher stature, looking down upon them as anti-intellectuals that have purposefully obstructed the teaching of the Gift to the vast majority of the lower classes. His observation of the strife between the Republic of Joru and the Empire of Belgazzir have also made him extremely suspicious of any matter involving military affairs, believing that the Gift should be used for the benefit of study instead of being used to erect mass graves across Constantina.


C H A R A C T E R A P P E A R A N C E


With the assistance of his heirloom pig-steel bascinet, Onarr easily reaches the shoulders of the tallest adolescent bachelors in the Ersand'Enise. Without his bascinet, however, Onarr is liable to drown himself at the shallow end of any pond if he is not cautious enough. He compliments his most emblematic fashion accessory with a yellow-dyed leather cloak, a linen shirt and rawhide leather boots. When he's not in his mage apparel, Onarr typically wears simple practical vestments made of cloth, camel leather and roughspun flax

Underneath his helm, Onarr believes he looks likes the spawn of a fishmonger and an emaciated moose. However, the reality is far less horrifying for this adolescent than he truly believes. Onarr's dark skin is pocketed with burn scars and raised welts from his childhood misadventures involving the unlimited power of lightning. His left eyebrow has been completely singed off alongside his right sideburns and most of his hair, leaving a solitary chestnut mop in place. His dimpled smile and mischievous grin still remain, however.

L A N G U A G E S

His time spent under the tutelage of the local Stresian order in Joru and operating his father's smithy has bequeathed him with the budding talents of an multi-linguistic. He is fluent and well-versed in his local dialects of Joruban alongside two or three common dialects of Belzaggic. No matter his attempts at trying, Mezogolese has escaped his grasp, only having managed a rudimentary intermediate level consisting of a creole of several dialects. Additionally, he has academic understanding of various Avinician dialects, although he prefers to use the most common form used throughout Constantina.

Onarr doesn't prefer to admit this to anyone but he also knows various swear words, slang, insults, innuendos and profanity picked up from his father's customers in over a dozen languages from Yasoi to Rettanese.

T H E G I F T


Onarr's talents lie in the school of magnet magic, being considerably more versed and creative in its use than other students of his age, thanks to his blessed Thunderchild lineage from his mother and a decade of practice underneath the tutors of the Stresian Order and a six moon apprenticeship under Dioha, the Magnet Master of the local Joru Mage Guild. He prefers drawing on chemical and arcane sources to perform his magnetic magic and can draw on ambient environmental charge in a pinch if he needs to.

His most accomplished recorded feats in the Joru Stresian Order are his ability to mimic other schools of magic through ingenuity and application of scientific theory. His most famous (and often destructive) discovery which earned him entry into Ersand'Enise is what he refers to as "The Phlogiston Pummel". His other, less memorable (but no less academically important to the annals of Stresian journals) feats include increasing the temperature of objects by focusing current through them, managing to levitate 1 feet in the air courtesy of his helmet and manipulation of his own skeletal muscle neurons via conduction of bio-electricity.

However, in spite of his aptitude in magnet magic, no one has ever seen Onarr throw a visible bolt of lightning or channel any lightning spells since he was 8. The excuses provided by Onarr are always changing and always performed with a stretched smile that nobody can see.

Onarr's other preferred school of magic is the art of Chemical Magic. He does not possess a natural talent for it but thanks to countless drills enforced by him in Dioha and endless nights of sifting through dusty tomes, he is what many in the art would consider an excellent user. he mainly focuses on applying it in a utilitarian manner in most of his experiments and for his own cooking. He is woefully out of practice, much to his embarassment, when it comes to the art of applying chemical magic in combat.

His father has also attempted to impart some of his talents in Arcane magic to Onarr, much to both of their frustration. He has only managed to learn several basic cantrips which were rudimentary enough to assist his father in the smithy.

B A C K G R O U N D


Somnes the 24th, Dami-Zept 53

Finally, I have some time to myself to reflect in peace. Dahoi always told me that a good mage always writes at the end of the day, but, alas steady decks are impossible to find when you embark on the Constantin seas. Being on land is far more preferable to suffering from sea-sickness.

The road to Revedia is a long one but perchance, I found a yam farmer willing to ferry me to the border of where Ersand'Enise is supposedly located. There were many reasons that factored into my decision: namely, the sturdy breed of famed albino Revidian steeds that he has tamed, the excellent craftsmanship of his ride and miraculously, his recipe for baked sliver yams that I must try again on the morrow once I finish writing.

I find myself in recent times reflecting on where it all began. It is important that I retrace my steps now, lest, I lose sight of my past at Ersand'Enise. I reckon too many mages forget where they came from and how they became who they were now.

Father tries to deny it but the blood business of war bade him to travel from Eskand to the ports of the Republic of Joru. He gambled his savings and I suppose it paid off. Lucky him. Most people of his station would have died had they attempted that endeavor. Volu, a principality of Jeru, had fallen to a combination of Belzaggic economic pressure and hired sell-sword companies. The carrion fields, rich with steel and sliver, were ripe to be reforged by blacksmiths and were in demand by the various principalities of Joru. Joru was not the Joru it is now. It was untamed, feral with new ideas that blossomed into the embers of the revolution, rich and stoked by the aggression of the Belzaggic neighbours. This flame, wild and intoxicating, attracted various groups like moths to candle-light.

It was how my father met my mother. She was a Stresian philosipher from East Constantina and was part of a missionary group to Joru. My father won't tell me much of the details but their first encounter, if I remember correctly, was a theological argument over the existence of Shune. What followed after that were more vigorous arguments in the privacy of their bed-chambers.

And that was how I and eventually, Aldrr, were born.

I scarcely remembered when I first manifested the Gift. Mother says it was on the midseason of Stresia, on a rainy day, that I cried and a lightning bolt split the willow tree in front of our house in twain. Father says it was when he tried to spank me for being a little shit for trying to touch the coals and I sent him to the apothecary with a headache.

Needless to say, I was attracted to the art of magnetry. I wouldn't discover why until I visited a sanctioned body chemist mage in the Stresian guild but it was the primacy of it, the chaotic energy flowing and ebbing all around me. I moved my first nail when I was five and eventually graduated to anvils at the seven. Father wanted me to be enrolled at the Iluran Public Academy in Joru whilst Mother wanted me to study under the Stresian Philosiphers. One was worried I was going to end up becoming a preacher whilst the other was worried that I was going to be lost in a tide of other gifted children like me.

So, I chose both.

Past that decision, I remember little but cherished memories that I have. I can't tell which ones were my favorite. When I wrote my first disassertion of Kurtz's theories of ferrous magnetism at nine? When I won my local Ziggurtal spitting competition? When I kissed an apple farmer's daughter and was chased out of her father's orchards? If I were to write them all, it would take several days.

I wish Aldrr

Ersand'Enise took immediate notice of my publications when I was 13. They sent one of their Zenos to observe me and within a year, I received my invitation to study at the academy.

The rest is history and that is how I am currently stranded halfway across Revedia with the present company of yam farmers.

Supper awaits me now. I wonder how they make those baked yams so chewy.....


M O T I V A T I O N


Onarr's motivation is the progression of science underneath the auspices of the Five Magics and using its developments to assist and enlighten the people of Constantina, no matter the cost to himself. He believes that the hallowed halls of Ersand'Enisem, its parties, its ancient tomes and the local Zigguretal spitting scene will help him in his endeavor to help both his family and humanity as a whole.

He has considerably mixed feelings towards the institutions of the Quentic Faith, viewing those of Shune in a fairer light than those of the others. In his own words, most Quentic religious institutions are "barmy cults of the Old Gods made anew who only serve to pilfer gold from those who have little and prop up the satchels of the unfaithful".

I N V E N T O R Y


On his person, Onarr's always wears his triple-forged fabulous steel cone bascinet which acts as the primary focus of his magnetic magicks. Many attempts have been made by his tutors and his family to replace the helmet with a traditional rod of castle-forged steel or brass that magnet mages use but Onar stubbornly refuses, claiming that the dimensions of his helmet help in the conduction of ambient currents (Or whatever excuse he wants to make). Other foci that he uses are a oil wick lantern for the Arcane School of Magic and a elm spoon for the Chemical School of Magic.

Onarr's other belongings include.....

- A bag of Zigurattal seeds, freshly harvested and cured.
- A set of smithing tools
- A poultice of whale oil
- A pickled salmon wrapped in clam cloth
- A Shune phycaletery necklace given to him by his Mother
- A personal journal with charcoal
- Various tomes about the natural sciences and the Five Magics
- A pouch of sea salt, red pepper and dried Joru root
- A set of magnifying glasses

S T R E N G T H S & S K I L L S

❖ Skilled smith under the tutelage of his father. Has the calluses to prove it.
❖ Stressian junior philosopher and scholar. Recognized as an aspirant of the School of Magnetism.
❖ Versed in cooking Joru and Constantin cuisine.
❖ Ziggurtal Spitting Afficionado*
❖ Fleet-footed from time playing tag with Aldrr in Joru's forests.


W E A K N E S S E S & F L A W S

❖ High Strung Temperament
❖ Zealot of Science/Extremely Suspicious Of Religion In General
❖ Stubborn
❖ Highly recalcitrant towards usage of spells on living beings
❖ Phobia of Great Gulls
Issues With Being Vertically Challenged


M I S C E L L A N E O U S

*THE RULES OF ZIGURATTAL SPITTING ABRIDGED

Zigurattal Spitting is a sport originating from the ancient tribes that originally formed Belzagg and has since been modernized, changed and has split into various sub-types across the continent of Severa. The gambling scene on Zigurattal Spitting rivals that of ostrich jousting and the Alchemist's Award. Several prominent Belzaggic nobles have promoted the sport and have engaged in it. The Republic of Joru has attempted to ban the sport on more than one occasion but after the appearance of illegal zigurattal spitting scenes, numerous protests and various letters of concerns from apothecaries about exposure to toxic crops of zigurattal, the republic has since legalized it.

Zigurattal spitting revolves around the Zigarattal bean which is grown in the south of East Severa. It is notoriously fickle to grow and can only be harvested once a year. The bean is heated to remove the outer shell and a striped green seed is removed from the core. This is the Zigurattal, the core of Zigurattal spitting, and has several properties which distinguish it from other seeds. Of note by scholars, Zigurattal seeds possess a mixture of elasticity and brittleness, having parallel capabilities to that of a rubber ball. However, upon reaching a certain number of bounces, Zigurattal seeds lose this property and become extremely fragile, breaking upon impact. It has been the subject of scholar's debate for centuries over what causes this to occur. Due to its small size, the only way to achieve locomotion with the Zigurattal seed is to use one's mouth to launch the seed.

Zigurattal Spitting is typically operated with a total of 3 competitors standing 20 paces away from a series of 50 differently colored wooden posts. Different colors correlate to different amounts of points, with red being the lowest and gold being the highest. Players must take turns spitting and hitting these posts to collect the most amount of points. Skilled players are able to bounce their seeds between multiple posts. However this runs the risk of breaking the Zigurattal, leading to what is known as a "crack". Therefore, players must manage the durability of their chosen Zigurattal and how many points they want to accumulate.
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