Ye Olde Laboratory

[Red Wizard]

THE SHADOW OVER OLD CALEDON

an Eldritch Victorian Fantasy Tale of Suspense

---

---

Welcome to the game!

In The Shadow over Old Caldeon, you will play as a gathering of individuals investigating a series of strange occurences in the city of Caledon. Your characters will begin their journeys separate from each other, but will have to team up as the plot thickens. You will have a lot of freedom when creating your character, albeit within the framework of the theme and setting.

My Role

I will take on the role of a traditional DM, giving you feedback on your characters actions and playing the part of the more important NPCs. I will not control every aspect of the game outside of your characters, though. I want you to have the freedom to write the story of your character without too much meddling. The rule goes as such: If you're using your post to get ahead in the plot and need my assistance with feedback or NPCs, you'll tag me in the post. If your post is dedicated to developing your character, or interacting with NPCs or other players in a way that isn't crucial to the plot, you don't have to tag me. I will try to be as clear and fair as possible. If you have feedback on my DMing, feel free to write them in the OOC or send me a PM.

Your Role

You will take on the role of an investigator trying to solve the mysteries of the strange occurences in Caledon. There is no Character Sheet or anything like that for this game. I want you to write me a decent profile on your character that fits with the theme and setting. I would prefer it if the majority of players chose to play as humans or human hybrids, but you are free to pick any race for your character. You may also play as a character with status, or an infamous one, if you prefer. Anything goes within the framework of the story. When playing, I want the group to be fair and creative. We should all strive towards making the story as interesting and satisfying as possible. If this sounds fun and manageable to you, you're welcome to apply with a character in the discussion below.

Thalamor

This game takes place in Thalamor, an ancient land full of mystique and magic. There are high mountains and deep forests, alongside wild rapids, calm lakes, wind-swept plains, and grand cities. Here, humans mingle with elves, dwarves, orcs, and a host of other creatures and beings. Over the past century, Thalamor's old medieval world has been thrust into an industrial revolution with humans, a previously insignificant people, at the forefront. The old order is challenged by winds of change which, depending on who you ask, promise a bright future or threaten with darkness and ruin.

History

History

Thalamor has a long history, mostly shrouded in myths and legends. According to ancient doctrine, the world came into being during the first age. Only the gods, Sinthear, and the demons, Nathaid, lived then, and they fought for dominion over the new land. During the eon-long conflict, terrible and fantastic creatures were created from both sides to gain the upper hand. The gods finally won a costly victory and drove the demons into the darkness outside the world, Dorc Hadath, from which they could never return uninvited.

Then came the second age, when the gods decided to populate the world with their chosen people and leave its fate in their hands. The elves were the first to see the light of day and lived for thousands of years by the gods' side, who taught them about the land and its inherent magical power. They were nurtured to care for the peoples that had not yet come into the world so that they could lead them in the gods' stead. Afterward, a variety of different peoples and creatures were created, including the dwarves, orcs, and humans. When the work was finally completed, the gods left the world. Many have wondered why they couldn't stay with their creation, and although the answer has eluded most, it is said that the oldest of the elves have carried the answer with them since time immemorial, but refuse to share it with anyone else.

The third age was the golden age of the elves. They led the peoples as the gods had taught them and managed to maintain the world's balance despite many severe crises and conflicts. Knights-errant, evil sorcerers, dragons, and orcish raiding parties; there was no threat that was too powerful for the elves. From their great empire Mor Admad in the northern primeval forest Sylvan, the elves observed and guided the growth of human and dwarf lands. In the north, the twin kingdoms of Antuath and Aimsir were founded by Thiarnerna and Ceannerna, human royal dynasties of the noblest of blood. With the blessing of the elves, humans spread to the south where the principalities of Aterno, Kapernum, Virentia, and Brunnea emerged under their northern rulers' foresight. Meanwhile, the dwarves created some of Thalamor's greatest wonders; the Sun Hall in Faoi Gorm, the Sky Road in Thar Dearg, and the Wind Chime in Marbhalla, among many others. The proud masters of the underworld forged beautiful crown jewels as gifts to the princes of humans and elves, and helped with the construction of several mighty castles and forts. The third age was like a dream, but all dreams must end.

Less than a century ago, an industrial revolution began in the Southern Kingdom, a development that would overturn the order that the elves had established.The fourth age began with red fire and black smoke.

Magic

Magic

Magic is a supernatural force that permeates Thalamor. According to the elves, magic is the force with which the gods created the world and everything in it. The gods then gifted the elves with this power in order to guide the lesser races once they had gone. In essence, magic is the power to bend or break natural law using willpower. There are many different ways to channel and focus magic, from spells and chants to rituals and runes, but the thing they all hace in common is that it's very diffucult to use and takes a long time to master. In addition, the use of magic is exhausting due to the intense focus required to succeed. Needless to say, most great mages in history have been elves, although there have been some of reknown among the other races.

Magic is not a very popular phenomenon is Caledon. Since the advent of industry, humans have turned away from the old ways, and view magic with suspicion. The most important factor leading to this shift in attitude is the effect that magic energy has on machinery. Whenever magic is practiced, it creates a field where natural law is altered, or even suspended. The exact effect is hard to guess as it varies with the nature of the spell and its magnitude, but the catastrophic consequences this has on industrial equipment cannot be understated. Mages are therefore often banned from sites where crucial machinery is housed, such as factories, power plants, and railway stations.

Races

Races

Humans

Humans

Humans, known as athair in the old language, are the most widespread people of Thalamor, with numerous kingdoms and a plethora of cities spread across the land. They live comparatively short lives of up to a hundred years, but reproduce at a faster rate than many other peoples and have the unique ability to bear offspring with some of them, hence half-elves and half-orcs.

Humans are leading the recent industrial revolution and are currently challenging the power and territories of the elder races, but it has not always been this way. Less than a hundred years ago, humans were an insignificant people among many others. They could only gaze with awe or fear at the great deeds of the elder races and had little to say about the world. But since the order was overturned with the advent of industry, human leaders no longer have time for either awe or fear, just progress.

According to the old doctrine, humans were created by the god Mathair, the god of sowing and harvesting, to till the fertile earth of Thalamor's surface. Of course, there are those who still believe in the old doctrine, but the rapidly growing science has a different explanation. The latest theory is that of the supernatural selection, in which it is believed that humans form the basis of the hominid creatures and that the others have changed over time after being exposed to magical energies. This, it is argued, explains why humans can have offspring with, for example, elves and orcs, and why these cannot have offspring with each other.

Elves

Elves

The elves, who call themselves aeldair and are often referred to as the oldest or the beautiful by other races, are smooth and slender and possess a natural exotic beauty that the other races envy. They can live for over a thousand years and have a natural connection to animals and nature.

Traditionally, the elves have been the leaders and protectors of the free peoples from the powers of darkness. They are the philosophers and poets of Thalamor and prefer a life close to the great forests and rivers, where they spend their time in song and conversation. Their wisdom and magical power have held back evil countless times through the ages of history, but since the advent of industry, they have become more withdrawn and secluded.

According to the old belief, the elves were created by the primal mother of the gods, Ailtire, to watch over her creation and guide the younger races along the right paths. This belief is indeed absolute among the elves, but it has recently come to be interpreted in different ways. The old interpretation is that the elves are indeed set to watch over and show the younger races how they should live, but that it is always up to the races to choose which path they should walk. The new interpretation, growing at the same pace as human industry, is that the time for restraint is over. The younger races will kill themselves or Thalamor itself if the elves do not step forward and seize power. They simply have to drag the other races along the right path, kicking and screaming until they recognize the righteousness of the elves.

Dwarves

Dwarves

The dwarves, who call themselves thangair, are a short, sturdy, and hairy people. Despite being broad and strong for their height, they tend to be muscular rather than fat. They have a long lifespan of over five hundred years.

Traditionally, the dwarves have been somewhat reclusive, who along with the elves have kept evil at bay. They are proud and hardworking, so focused to the extent that they are often perceived as humorless by other races. Dwarves are known for their fiery temperaments and judge quickly and harshly. Most dwarf societies are found underground or in the mountains. There they create their wonders in smithing and architecture, which in ancient times people always made pilgrimages to see. However, since the advent of industry, it is primarily the natural resources the dwarves possess that are coveted.

According to the old belief, the dwarves were created by the god Duhrein, the god of smithing, to watch over the foundations of Thalamor and refine the elements of creation. Because of this, the dwarves have had a monopoly on the treasures of the mountains and underground, which they have managed with the utmost trust. Items are made with the potential of the raw materials in mind, and creating poor things is considered almost sinful. Therefore, they fear industrial mass production, where quantity takes precedence over quality. This has led to many dwarf communities completely closing their doors to humans in an attempt to keep the machines out.

Orcs

Orcs

The orcs, who call themselves orchair and are often called goblins or greenskins by other peoples, are muscular and ferocious, with a rough appearance that makes them look ugly, stupid, or evil in the eyes of other races. They live relatively long lives of up to three hundred years and reproduce faster than most peoples, except for humans.

Traditionally, the orcs have been the warrior people of Thalamor, dominating large parts of the land with hordes of warriors. Not infrequently, the orcs have sided with darkness and have caused both elves and dwarves serious trouble through historical conflicts. They are a nomadic people always seeking new territories to conquer. The orcs have been more heavily impacted than any other people by the advent of industry. The humans did what no one had previously managed when they nearly drove the orcs to extinction. Those not killed were enslaved in the cities' factories and workshops. The few orcs that are still free live in small bands of raiders, far from human cities and armies.

According to the old teachings, the orcs were created by the god Laoch, the god of war, to separate the chaff from the wheat among the peoples of Thalamor through violence and conquest. The orcs' attitude to war has therefore never necessarily been to win, but the conflict itself is desirable. To fall in battle with a throbbing heart is a worthy end for an orc. Their new circumstances have therefore broken them as a people. They did not wage war against humans, they were hunted. To live enslaved is perhaps the greatest contradiction an orc can have to its nature.

Half-Elves

Half-Elves

Half-elves, called aelthair in the old language, are the offspring of an elf and a human. They primarily resemble their human parents in appearance and physique but usually have revealing features, like the elfishly pointed ears. They have also inherited some of the elves' long lives and can become as old as three hundred years.

Half-elves have no traditional role in any society. Their personality and worldview are often shaped by the culture they grow up in, although they usually have a strong affinity for animals and nature. This often results in them being well-liked by most people they meet, but never really allowed to become a full-fledged part of any society.

The old teachings do not mention half-elves. Among the elves, they are therefore considered problematic or, as some poetically call them, a loveable mistake. Human scientists view half-elves as a completely natural consequence of supernatural selection.

Half-Orcs

Half-Orcs

Half-orcs, called orthair in the old language, are the offspring of a human and an orc. They mostly resemble their human parents in appearance, but the orcish features are often pronounced. In addition to appearance, they have also inherited much of the temperament of their orcish parents. Their lifespan is the same as that of humans, and they rarely live over a hundred years.

As half-orcs are often the result of violence and oppression from one parent against the other, their lot in society is a tragic one. They are often relegated to the lowest echelons of society and forced to support themselves through dangerous or demeaning jobs. In human societies, the salvation is often a service in the army, where their natural strength and ferocity are put to good use.

The old teachings have nothing to say about the half-orcs. Therefore, they are seen as almost unholy by the elves and those who follow their teachings. Human scientists see half-orcs as a fully natural, albeit distasteful, consequence of supernatural selection.

Caledon

At the mouth of the Kaper River, on the coast of the Twilight Sea, lies a city. Black smoke rises over the city's rooftops like man-made thunderclouds from the countless factory chimneys, plunging streets and alleys into shadow. The glow of gas lamps dispels the darkness, and under their light, thousands upon thousands of souls scurry back and forth to the rhythm of the city's pulse. People and creatures of all kinds gather here, some above ground and others below, to chase dreams and engage in more or less shady dealings. It is a wondrous city, home to the latest scientific discoveries and the richest market in the world. It is a terrible city, a stinking gutter filled with poverty and oppression. It is Caledon, the city of tomorrow, and nowhere in the world can its equal be found.

The City

The City

Since the Industrial Revolution, Caledon has grown immensely and transformed into a metropolis of great significance. It is known as the largest city in the world, houses the largest port, and is the heart of all international trade. Since the revolution, railways to the rest of the neighboring cities have been built, along with a subway, paved roads, and modern sewer and gas lines. Many famous monuments and buildings, not to mention numerous factories, have also been added.

Caledon is divided into different layers and districts that have been distilled as the city has emerged. On the east bank of the Kaper, the more affluent quarters are located, and on the west bank, the impoverished slums. In the south, the harbor extends towards the Twilight Sea with warehouses and factories, and in the north lie administrative buildings and institutions of learning. The central station for the railway network is located in the northeast, and the infamous prison island nicknamed The Pit lies off the harbor in the southwest.

Outside the city walls, villages and farming communities spread inland. Here, most people live as they always have, even though novelties from the big city are slowly finding their way out.

The Populace

The Populace

Caledon's population has exploded in the last century, from around three hundred thousand to over a million. The absolute majority of these are humans and human hybrids, along with a large minority population of orcish slave workers. In addition to these, there are about a thousand dwarves and a handful of elves living in the city.

Only humans enjoy full citizenship in Caledon. The remaining population live with varying degrees of privileges and segregation, but are not allowed to own private property or hold public offices.

Dwarves are the people who enjoy the most privileges after humans in Caledon. The overwhelming majority of them live in fort-like embassies, called Khâzad or clan halls by the dwarves themselves. From their Khâzad, dwarves conduct trade and handle diplomatic relations with the humans in the city. Each Khâzad is owned by the clan in question and within its walls, dwarven law applies, not human. There are five Khâzad in Caledon; three in the northeastern district, one in the southeast, and one in the western slum. Rumors constantly circulate in the city's pubs and inns about all the treasures the dwarves have gathered in their massive houses, but there are few who actually attempt to seize anything as no one has ever heard of anyone returning after such an escapade. The few dwarves who live outside the city's Khâzad are usually outcasts and clanless. They usually keep their distance from other dwarves and live with the city's humans. It is common for such dwarves to become sought-after craftsmen and blacksmiths due to their cultural inclination for the trade. Overall, dwarves are well-regarded and respected by Caledon's population, except for sporadic jealousy towards their alleged wealth and some suspicion towards their reclusive nature.

Elves are an unusual and sometimes sensitive element in Caledon. Only a handful of individuals live in the city, and these often live alone and far from others of their kind. People often act politely towards elves, or stay out of their way entirely. This unfortunately rarely stems from actual respect for their people, but rather from fear. During the early steps of the Industrial Revolution, the need for fuel was great, and the ancient Sylvan forest was cut down. The forest didn't house a proper elven population, but many elven warriors took up arms and came from the north to stop the loggers. Consequently, many families in Caledon have lost a member to the elves' arrows, and the horror stories made up about the children of the forest are still told today in the city's salons and cellars. Because of this, but also because of their reputation as magical creatures, a nervous atmosphere surrounds the elves in the city, especially in all districts where machines are used. They are rarely allowed near either train stations or factories, even though the constables whose job it is to prevent them probably wouldn't dare stop them if they really tried. The fear of the unknown that the elves represent means they rarely have to endure open discrimination, but an elf would have a hard time integrating with the human society in Caledon even if they tried.

Half-elves are generally liked and accepted in Caledon. They enjoy pretty much the same social status as humans, except for the right to hold public office. However, half-elves are forced to cope with a certain degree of exoticizing and are considered particularly exciting to have in one's social circle, or particularly remarkable to have had as a romantic conquest. They are often expected to know the elven language, or possess knowledge of magic.

Orcs are despised and feared in Caledon, to such a degree that they are not considered persons but rather beasts or animals. It is permissible and even common among entrepreneurs to keep orcish slave workers who toil in factories and warehouses. Orcs are not allowed in the city unless they are someone's property, and even then, they are only allowed to reside in specific ghettos or at their designated workplaces. Orcs found outside these areas are ruthlessly hunted by the city's constables and hanged without trial if they have not already been killed during the hunt.

Half-orcs are treated with a mixture of disgust and pity. They are not hated in the same way as orcs, but there are few who want to mingle with their kind. Often they are left to orphanages from an early age as it is considered very shameful for a family to have orcish blood in the family. The outsider status and rootlessness often lead to a life marked by poverty, misery, and crime. No respectable town dweller would voluntarily choose to be involved in business with a half-orc.

Despite Caledon's wealth and development, large parts of its population live in poverty. Over two thirds of the inhabitants live in the slums west of the river, often in crowded quarters with several families per house.

Strange Occurences

Below are a few notesworthy news that could serve as a start to your characters investigation. You may choose among them at your own discretion.

GRAVEYARD VANDALIZED!

DISTINGUISHED GENTLEMAN RETURNS FROM THE NORTH: EXQUISITE ELVEN RELICS REMAIN A MYSTERY

SUSPECTED SABOTAGE AT DOCKSIDE FACTORIES: CONSTABULARY CONTEMPLATES MYSTIFYING MALFUNCTIONS

ALLEGED ILLEGAL ACTIVITIES IN OLD TOWN SEWERS: ORCISH INVOLVEMENT SUSPECTED

MYSTERIOUS BURGLARY BEDEVILS CALEDON'S DWARVEN KHAZAD: CONSTABULARY PUZZLED, DWARVES MUM

Looking forward to playing with you!
Questions, feedback and applications below, if you please!

[Red Wizard]

Calradia

Map

Kingdom of Nords

According to some scholars, Nord people are from a place called "Nordland", or "Jumne", as others claim. Nordland is said to be far north of Calradia, over the sea, and it is also the home of the many sea raiders plaguing the northern coasts of the land.

The Nords were invited by the Calradic Empire to crew their galleys, and were given land on the coast as payment for this service. After the Empire fell however, a Nord leader named Gundig Hairy-Breeks landed in Calradia to claim a supposed Nord birthright of the whole continent. Certain scholars makes note that this was a fabrication by the skalds and qualifies it by noting the Nords need no excuse to go to war. Gundig Hairy-Breeks would be killed attempting to attack the Rock of Rivacheg, but Nords still come to Calradia under the idea of claiming Calradia by force.

This predisposition to war also factored into the rise of its current leader, King Ragnar, and the disinheritance of the claimant Lethwin Far-Seeker. The king before Ragnar and Lethwin's father, King Hakrim, had Lethwin sent abroad to learn academic arts believing that the Nords needed to be more than warriors. Ragnar disagreed and when Lethwin was shipwrecked on his way home to claim his throne, Ragnar took the throne for himself.

[Red Wizard]

The Shadow over Old Caledon

an Eldritch Victorian Fantasy Tale of Suspense

---

---

Act I: Strange Occurences

As the sun capitulated to the ebony cloak of night, an uncanny transformation swept across Caledon. The rhythm of the city shifted, the mechanical din of day, with its unrelenting industry, segued into an undercurrent of secretive vibrancy as daylight receded.

In the affluent districts of the east bank, Caledon's wealthy glitterati emerged. Their carriages deposited them at opulent theatres and grand music halls, their refined laughter slicing through the hushed whispers of the twilight. Yet, even amid the glamour, a sense of unease lingered. A masked figure in a corner, a suspicious glance over a champagne glass, the shiver of a debutante, there was a palpable sense that not all was as it seemed.

Across the river, in the west bank taverns, the city's less fortunate sought solace in shared stories and cheap ale. The conviviality was marred, though, by a building tension. Whispered rumours of a missing dock worker, the sight of a regular's empty chair, the hushed conversation of the tavern owner with a hooded stranger, all hinting at an unfolding drama that held patrons in its grip.

In the labyrinthine alleyways of Caledon, clandestine activities intensified. The black market flourished, but even the hardened criminals seemed on edge. Transactions were hastier, voices were lower, glances nervously darted down the darker corners. Something was amiss, and even the underbelly of society could sense it.

At the harbor, the cacophony of industry belied an eerie undercurrent. Workers noticed cargo being moved stealthily, whispers of unfamiliar vessels docking at odd hours, and sightings of unusual figures skulking in the shadows. The harbor, usually a sanctuary of routine and hard work, was ensnared in the web of suspense.

Guarding over all this was the city watch, their lanterns casting long, probing shadows in their ceaseless quest for order. Yet tonight, their step was more hurried, their gazes more suspicious, their grips on their weapons a bit tighter.

Beneath the shimmering moonlight, Caledon pulsed with an inscrutable sense of suspense. An invisible web of intrigue was slowly being spun, ready to ensnare the unwary. As the citizens navigated the precarious night, a palpable question echoed in the gaslit gloom: what secrets did the night hold? Would the coming dawn bring resolution or draw them deeper into the mysterious embrace of the unknown?

[Red Wizard]

PROGRESS QUEST!

---

---

This picture was generated by DALL-E

Welcome, Intrepid Adventurers, to Progress Quest!

As brave pioneers on the cutting edge of AI storytelling, you are about to embark on a grand medieval fantasy adventure like no other! Our AI, powered by the latest iteration of ChatGPT, will serve as the ever evolving environment, providing challenges, surprises, and mysteries along the way. But be not mistaken, the success and course of this quest rest on your collective decisions and ingenuity.

Character Creation

Your journey begins with crafting your unique character. To ensure the process is as seamless as possible, we have prepared a special prompt. Just feed it to ChatGPT, and let it weave the narrative of your character. Here's your character creation prompt:

Create Character Prompt

As an AI, I need you to generate a character for a medieval fantasy adventure. This character should be unique, with an intriguing backstory, specific abilities, and a compelling motivation. Please include a short summary of the character as well.
This prompt will return a detailed character description and a short summary. The short summary will be your constant companion, a quick-reference character profile to be used in your future posts.

Setting Out on the Adventure

Once everyone has their characters, we will begin our adventure. Your starting scene has been crafted to set the mood and the theme of the journey you are about to undertake. Here's the starting text:

Starting Prompt

In a land shaped by magic and sword, (Your Character Summary) finds themselves in the bustling city of Veridian at the brink of dusk. The festival of the Moon's Awakening is about to begin, a once-in-a-decade event, promising revelry, danger, and a chance for glory. How does your character react to this situation?

For each response, take your character's summary and the AI's previous reply, then input them into ChatGPT to generate your character's actions and dialogue.

Guiding the Adventure

As the GM, my role will be to take the AI's responses from each player's post, feed them back into ChatGPT, and generate the unfolding world and its reactions.

This play-by-post system ensures that everyone can take their time to immerse in the storytelling experience. It's an unbroken cycle of imagination, creating a continuously evolving game.

We stand on the precipice of a brave new world of role-playing, where human creativity and AI synergy come together to weave epic tales of adventure and heroism. So grab your virtual dice, gather your courage, and step into the immersive world of "Progress Quest!" The realm of Veridian awaits!

This message was generated by ChatGPT

[Red Wizard]

Simbelmynë

---

Basic Information

---

Age:

Old by human standards, but young among her people

Race

Elvian

Class

Druid/Ranger/Warlock

Weapons

A hornbow with the string twined from the web of an Ungolianth. A quiver of arrows with obsidian arrowheads. A two-handed shillelagh made from the core wood of an ironbark tree.

Detailed Appearance:

Simbelmynë is a short and light Elvian of only 150cm and 45kg. She has flowing hair of silver and moonstone-pale skin, with outlandish yellow eyes that has a piercing quality to them. Her face carries two lines of parallel scars running from her forehead to her cheeks, an ornament typical of her order. Simbelmynë dresses in a wide variety of natural materials, from leather and fur, to wool and linen, to feathers, bone, twigs, and moss. Amongst this jumbled mess gleams silver jewelry inlaid with mother of pearl and precious stones, carved with runes and eldritch symbols. It is clear for all to see that she belongs in the wild, with the trees and the animals.

Bio History:

What was their life like before their mentor disappeared?
Simbelmynë was raised by her mother to be part of a secretive coven of woodland witches devoted to the worship of an eldritch forest spirit known as the Old Goat, or the Wilder, or the Horned One, among other names. Her life was filled with mysticism and secretive rituals from an early age, as well as the struggles of surviving in the wild. The coven was very secluded and guarded, and contact with the outside world was sparse. Simbelmynë was taught about the evils of civilization, the tyranny of nobles, and the barbarism of war. In time, she became a valuable asset to the coven and was seen as the natural successor to her mother. She had passed the basic initiation, but still had trials in front of her to become a fully trained with and privy to all the secrets of the Wilder.

Likes:

• Her coven
• The wild
• Freedom
• Balance
• The Old Goat

Dislikes:

• Cities
• Laws
• Nobles
• Soldiers
• Slavery

---

---

Skills and Abilities:

Abilities:

• Shapeshifting - As a woodland witch in the coven of the Old Goat, Simbelmynë has been taught to change her physical form into that of an animal. Although the more seasoned witches can change into almost anything Simbelmynë has a less varied but still formidable arsenal of shapes at her command including, but not limited to; a wolf, a stag, an eagle, and a snake, all white like freshly fallen snow.
• Commune with Nature - Another part of Simbelmynës training as a woodland witch is the ability to speak in the tongues of animals and plants. She can speak with any animal or plant in theory, but has not yet learned every dialect and variation. As it stands, she is proficient with most living things in the forest, but can have difficulties with animals and plants from other biomes.
• Otherworldly Patron - Simbelmynë, along with the rest of her coven, has entered a pact with the Horned One. In exchange for her undying loyalty and soul, this eldritch being has endowed her with frightful arcane powers. She can blast her foes with bursts of flaming eldritch energy, and can let that same power imbue her flesh to enhance her physical prowess manyfold. When she does this, she glows with a green fire, her eyes shining bright and smoldering.

What are the drawbacks of those abilities?

• Shapeshifting - Simbelmynës mother always warned her to be on her guard while changing shapes, lest she forget that she's an elvian and not a snake. The alien physiology of the shapes take their toll over time, affecting Simbelmynës dexterity and even perception as she changes back to her original form. Shorter transformations are no danger, but longer periods can prove problematic.
• Commune with Nature - Simbelmynë has spent so much time talking to the beings of the wild that she has become disillusioned with humanoid speech. She dislikes most humanoid languages, percieving them as crude, and constantly fails to find the right word for something that comes naturally to her when speaking to a deer, or a toad, or a pine.
• Otherworldly Patron - The sect worshipping the Old Goat is far from popular in all the realms of the empire. The Horned One is more or less seen as a demon or evil spirit by many, marking its disciples as mislead or evil themselves. As if that wasn't enough, Simbelmynë must contend with the will of the Wilder and obey its commands, which it utters through cryptic dreams and visions from time to time.

Skills:

• Nature - Her mothers tutelage in knowledge of the forest has taught Simbelmynë almost everything there is to know about the plants and animals inhabiting it.
• Survival - A lifetime of living in the wild has molded Simbelmynë into a skilled outdoorsman.
• Religion - An important part of her life in the coven was the rituals and ceremonies dedicated to the Old Goat. Simbelmynë knows them all by heart, and carries a small wooden effigy of the Wilder with her wherever she goes.

---

---

Extra Information:

It is easy to grow uneasy around Simbelmynë. She doesn't feel right in civilized circles, like a wolf in a sheep pen. Her reactions are off, her vibe is all wrong, and she doesn't blink often enough. There is also the creeping feeling, whenever looking into her eyes, that someone very bad is looking back through them. Someone that is more animal than man, and more god than animal.

Theme Song

[Red Wizard]

---

S i m b e l m y n ë

---

Simbel looked at what apparently passed for food being sloshed into wooden bowls and offered around to her fellow companions. She could see the individual components swimming around in the slop, see the minced and mashed pieces of the plants and animals sacrificed to make this... this thing. All of it wasted. All of it ruined. Nice, tender rabbits slaughtered, only to be defiled. She couldn't stop her nose from wrinkling at the smell, and as the ignorant woman turned to offer Simbel a bowl of her own, she realized she must be frowning too, because the woman shied back when meeting her gaze. I do not eat... that, she said, holding out her hand to pass up on the stew. I will hunt my own food.

Turning around, her yellow eyes fell on the next affront. The so-called beds. Damp, dirty, lice infested sacks of cloth. And they were supposed to... to share them? It was more than Simbel could bear. As if having to sleep cooped up inside a small, smelly house wasn't enough, they expected her to degrade herself even further? No. She would sleep in the fresh air, under a starlit sky, where she could smell the scents of night and hear its denizens. She looked about the room, searching for some kind of solace, but there was none. A small window up by the rafters caught her attention. It would probably serve.

I will sleep in the wild, she said, I will find you at dawn. Then, without waiting for an answer, she transformed once more. In a matter of moments her hair and skin had been exchanged for a white feather coat, her arms for wings, and her legs for razor sharp talons. The eagle took flight, slipped through the window, and was lost in the night.

[Red Wizard]

---

---

---

---

Welcome! In this game we will play as a party of dwarves going on a grand adventure to steal the treasure of an old dragon and reclaim a long lost heirloom. On the way we will encounter mysterious elves in enchanted forests, menacing goblins in the dark underworld and many other magical beings. Together we will exploe dwarven culture and share stories and songs around the campfire under starlit skies. There will be laughter, danger, bravery and blood. Join in if you want to partake in a classic epic fantasy adventure!

First off, then:

---

---

The dwarves are a subterranean humanoid species originating from the mountains around the world. They share many characteristics with humans (two eyes and ears, a nose, a mouth, two arms and two legs) but there are many features that tell them apart. Dwarves are normally no taller than 100cm (roughly 3 feet). They are hairier than humans, and all dwarves grow big beards. It is very hard, if not impossible, for humans to tell dwarven males from females. The dwarves themselves say it’s a matter of scent.

These subterranean creatures have a long lifespan of around 300 years, but are considered old at 100. They can see perfectly even in complete darkness, because their eyes can register heat down to fractions of a degree. Dwarves are very sensitive to sunlight and prefer to stay indoors if possible. If not, they usually garb themselves with heavy clothes, covering as much as possible of their skin.

Dwarves are renowned for their supreme stonemasonry and blacksmithing. It is said that dwarven strongholds are carved from the rock of the mountains itself, and that dwarf-made steel never bends, breaks or dulls.

The dwarves are a traditional and superstitious lot. They are all about preserving things, and change comes very slow to them. Determining which stone to use in a mural can be a question for an entire generation of dwarves. They do not like to do things on a whim and will think the matter through thoroughly and then discuss it with their brethren before coming anywhere near a conclusion. Honor and honesty is also very important to dwarves. Losing face and bringing shame onto ones family is the greatest fear of any dwarf, sometimes even greater than the fear of death. There are no lengths a dwarf will not go to in order to preserve or restore its honor.

Dwarves are superstitious but not very religious. They do not worship any gods but take a keen interest in interpreting signs and omens from their environment. Falling stars, prophecies, natural phenomenon; the dwarves try to understand them all in their quest to understand the world around them. Many of these signs are attributed to their ancestors, and this is the closest thing they have to divine worship. The dwarves revere their ancestors and do their best to preserve their memory. It is expected of a dwarf to know the names of the ones that came before it, and dwarven homes are covered from top to bottom with stone tablets containing runes that tell of the lives of dead family members. Giving respect to the ancestors is key in dwarven society and it is considered shameful to forget an ancestor’s name.

Another tradition of the dwarves is their musicality. Songs and tunes are a great way of remembering old friends and deeds, and so almost every dwarf is taught to sing and play an instrument. Common instruments among the dwarves are bagpipes, horns, fiddles, flutes and drums.

The one great flaw of the dwarves is something they are all very aware of, but at the same time silent about. It is only ever discussed with ones closest companions and always in the dark. There they tell of the dark deeds that some distant ancestor once committed to bring shame on its family. Greed is the greatest enemy of the dwarven people. It lives inside all of them and always shows its ugly face at the worst of times. Whenever confronted by the rumor or visage of wealth, a dwarf simply cannot help itself. It’s like a hungry dog looking at a bowl of food. If properly trained it will restrain itself, but not for long. The greed isn’t about spending the treasure on resources or using it to gain influence, it is simply about having it. Dwarves like to look at gold, they like to feel its weight in their hands and shiver when it slides through their fingers. They all have it, in various degrees, but they all fight it. It is their greatest shame, but also their greatest driving force.

Now, secondly:

---

---

The truth of the matter is that the dwarves don’t know much about what’s outside of their mountain halls. They are generally reclusive and only ever hear of the rest of the world on the rare occasions when travelers are let in and choose to share their stories with the dwarves. As such what little information they have is either strongly influenced by the person sharing it or completely untrue. Nevertheless, here follows what goes as common knowledge among the dwarves.

The outside world is a big place. It’s huge. It is in fact so huge that no one has ever seen the ceiling, or even the walls. The environment is prone to swift and sudden change which cannot be controlled; the sun goes up and down, it sometimes rains (or even worse, snows), and the temperature goes up and down without any reason at all. There are a lot of different plants and animals there which are also prone to swift and sudden change. The leaves on the trees change color, like the fur on the animals, sometimes many times a year. It is all very confusing.

Humans are tall people that sometimes grow beards and sometimes don’t. Their women can’t grow beards for some reason, or they simply refuse to (but why would they?). They live very short, very fast lives and don’t seem to stick to one thing for more than a couple of years. There’s no sense of unity among these people. Everyone is on their own. But they’re usually nice when they come to the mountain, and some are even quite alike the dwarves in their pursuit of tradition and ancestral reverence. They seem very well suited for the chaos outside.

Elves are shorter than humans but still a head or two taller than dwarves. They live for very long, even longer than dwarves, but even though their outside never changes their heart and soul do. They seem to be all about change and sudden notions. They don’t even have settlements, but wander the woods as they like. Elves are more like each other than humans, but only in that they are all individualists to the extreme. Still, they know and love music and it has been said they even know of a dwarven tune or two. But you can’t really trust them. They can’t even grow beards!

Goblins. Ugh. Dwarves know pretty much about goblins, or at least everything you need to know (according to the dwarves). They’re about as tall as dwarves but skinnier and even paler. They’re practically hairless and also live underground. Dwarves and goblins are mortal enemies by ancient tradition and have fought many wars. The only thing a goblin wants is to take what others have or destroy it if taking it isn’t possible.

The only thing the dwarves know about dragons is that they’re big and very bad for business. They’re attracted to large treasures (which the dwarves usually keep in their halls) and they’re also extremely difficult to kill. Legend speaks of a monster large enough to fill a hall by itself, capable of flight as well as breathing fire. They have scales as tough as iron and acid for blood. Taking on a dragon is quite the undertaking.

And so, finally:

---

---

To apply to the game, you’ll need to read the above information and then fill out a Character Sheet. Once that CS has been accepted you’re in! Now, apart from the above information there are a few more things you need to know:

• You were born in the halls of Thrillem and have lived there with your family and friends your entire life
• You have never been outside of the halls
• You are the oldest among your siblings and have therefor been chosen for this quest
• You may or may not have had any military training

And here’s the CS! You may of course format it however you want.

---

---

Picture (Voluntary.)

Name: (Feel free to use classical dwarven names.)

Age: (Around 100 is recommended.)

Gender: (Female or male, it doesn’t matter since dwarven tradition doesn’t make any difference between the two.)

Appearance: (Description is mandatory.)

Skills and Flaws: (Basically your characters strengths and weaknesses. Greed is obviously one of your weaknesses.)

Background: (Who were your parents? What did they do? Did you follow in their footsteps or did you do something else? What relationships do you have in the halls? Do you have a mate, or children? What instrument do you play? Do you have an ancestor that you are proud or ashamed of? Give us a good idea about what your dwarf is like!)

Miscellaneous: (Other information you’d like to share about your character.)

---

---

If you have any further questions, I’d be delighted to answer them!

[Red Wizard]

Alberich

---

---

Name

Alberich son of Gudmund, of the Orebender Clan

Age

98

Gender

Male

Appearance

Alberich is of average height for a dwarf, but somewhat heavier than his fellow brothers and sisters. He has blonde hair and beard, often braided and bound to keep it from getting in the way in the smithy. His small, tired eyes are a light shade of brown, peering thoughtfully from under heavy brows. He has pronounced cheekbones and a massive nose, which often acts as his primary emotional tell.

Alberich is heavily muscled, his arms brawny beyond what is normal for his kind, a feature which has gotten some of his brethren speculating that he probably lives up to his family name. He usually dresses in simple, durable clothes of wool and leather, opting to walk barefooted even when working at the forge.

Alberich is never seen without the ornamented silver bracelet on his arm, a wedding band gifted to him by his deceased mate, Holga Ingridsdaughter Oakenshield. He has a slow, deliberate way of walking and talking, never seeming to make or say any unnecessary moves or words.

Skills & Flaws

Alberich is a respected and reknowned blacksmith in the halls of Thrillem, known for his qualitative craft. He can work any kind of ore in the forge, having learned many secrets from the master smiths of the senior Orebenders. He has just recently passed the test of mastery himself, finally earning the right to work his own anvil and take on apprentices himself.

Apart from being good with the hammer and tongs, Alberich likes to cook and has become skilled with the craft, experimenting with whatever herbs and spices he can get his hands on from traders and travellers. He plays the drum, as could be expected from a blacksmith, and sometimes blows the horn, one of which he has forged himself from bronze.

What Alberich lacks, however, is speed. He can be slow and thoughtful to the point of stagnation, always careful and deliberate in his actions. This has a tendancy to drive younger, more eager dwarves to frustration or even anger at times, as Alberichs slowness of action is extraordinary even among his kind. He also suffers from bouts of depression, fueled by the loss of his mate. During such bouts he becomes distant and unresponsive, often secluding himself from others for days at a time.

The greed is constantly there, of course, always surfacing at the worst of times. Alberich has a hard time separating from the more expensive and exquisite things he makes, to the point where he sometimes is unwilling to part with them without further compensation or persuasion.

Background

Alberich was born to Gudmund Thorson Orebender and Isolde Tyrasdaughter Rocksplitter. It was decided that he should follow in his fathers footsteps and learn the blacksmiths trade, and he has spent the most of his life as an apprentice to the master smiths of the Orebenders, learning their craft.

He met his mate, Holga Ingridsdaughter Oakenshield, at a feast in the hall of the Oakenshields. His family had been invited there as thanks for supplying the warriors of the Oakenshields with weapons and armor to beat back a particulary nasty infestation of goblins in the lower tunnels of Thrillem, and the two dwarves quickly fell in love. Their union was quickly negotiated and accepted by both clans as a suitable bond of friendship, and they were wed after only a decade of courting.

Disaster soon struck, however, not twenty years into their marriage. Holga was slain among many brave dwarves in an attempt to plug a breach by marauding goblins in the mines, and Alberich went into mourning. They had been preparing to sire children of their own, but Alberich knew that he now had lost both his companion and the prospects of carrying his bloodline to a new generation.

It took him over a decade to find the strength to once again lift the hammer, but when he did, he regained some semblance of a purpose to his life. Work consumed him, and he was deemed ready to face the masters trial at a staggering tender age of only ninety. He passed to thunderous applause from the collected Orebender, Rocksplitter, and Oakenshield clans, and a feast was held in his honor that has seen few of its likes before or after. Alberich was fondly regarded as the future of the Orebender smiths, and his name was immediately mentioned by the three clans as a candidate for the expedition to the surface.

[Red Wizard]

The journey to the docks was largely uneventful, save for an incident where an intoxicated working class man had to be forcibly persuaded by the night watch to exit the subway for disturbing public order. The man flatly refused to move, only to be lifted and carried off the cart by the two burly constables. One of them nodded at Adraman, silently apologizing for the commotion, before the train continued south. Before long, Adraman reached his destination and the train continued on its way back north.

The factory in question was only a short walk from station, across the bridge to the western bank. The dark waters of the Kaper glittered with the light from the lamp posts above, burning bright through the night. The sounds of activity and commotion grew louder as he approached the opposite bank. There was another kind of life in that part of the city that never slept, a kind that thrived in the cover of night. People could be seen passing by on the street, or moving in and out of alleys and buildings. The occational constable patrolled the roads and walkways, keeping watch for any signs of trouble.

Adraman drew some attention to him, but nothing more than curious glances. He looked like he belonged elsewhere; certainly not on the western waterfront, but the people here were accustomed to strangers on strange errands and none confronted him. A scantily clad woman called out to him as he passed an establishment, offering nocturnal business, and cursed at him behind his back when he passed her by.

Finally, he arrived at the factory in question. It was a behemoth of a building next to the smaller, older buildings surrounding it. The chimneys, usually spewing black smoke into the sky, lay dormant and silent. There was light spilling into the night from a few windows, indicating a presence, but the place looked mostly deserted. A guard was standing on watch by the gate to the courtyard, eyeing Adraman as he approached. He was dressed in a uniform and carried a pistol in a holster on his belt.

Jared, the guard, was perplexed. He had noticed the man walking down the street a while back and had wondered what an upstanding member of Caledons society could possibly be doing in the western docks at this time of day. He could guess at several less savoury reasons, of course, but his mother had always told him not to judge people all to quickly and decided against his initial speculations. The man in question was a gentleman, no doubt. Was he perhaps lost? The streets and alleys of Old Town could be labyrinthean even to its inhabitants, so it would be of no surprise if an outsider got turned around trying to navigate them. He knew full well what his employer would think about the situation, but Jared was kind at heart and wanted to help. As the man drew near, he raised his hand in greeting.

"Good evening, Sir" he called out, "Lost, are we? Can I offer my assistance with anything? Directions, perhaps?"

[Red Wizard]

A gust of cool air greeted Desmond as he went through the doors of the boarding house and ventured out into the night. The dark streets were illuminated by the burning light of the lamp posts, casting sharp shadows across Desmonds face as he made his way uptown. A carriage drove past, splashing water as it passed through a puddle, it's wealthily clad inhabitants peering warily at Desmond as the carriage turned a corner and disappeared into the night. Most windows were dark, save for the rare few here and there, melding into the stars of the night sky in the horizon.

He was looking for one ms Agatha Blakes, a journalist in employ of the Caledon Times. Their offices were located in the north east, if he remembered correctly, in the same neighborhood as several other of Caledons journals and newspaper establishments. It was only a short treck to get there, but as he arrived, he found the building vacated. Not one to be easily disheartened, however, he took his search onwards. There were a few pubs and restaurants that journalists were known to frequent, and he decided to try his luck with one of them.

Desmond soon found himself inside the Bugle, a drinking establishment of good repute, well furnished and not too expensive. The salon was full of potential informants as to Blakes whereabouts, and Desmond wasted no time in asking around. It was not too long before he found a colleague of ms Blakes, mr Goodman, who, after having been persuaded with a pint and some charming conversation, divulged her adress. Desmond thanked him for his kindness and was soon on his way once more.

He found the townhouse only a few blocks away. It was a good house, made of stone, well looked after and with beautiful windows. Ms Blakes was not the owner; apparently she let a room from an old widow, mrs Twain, who mr Goodman had informed Desmond was a prudent but rather unjovial sort. The house was dark, save for a lit window on the upper floor. Was that perhaps ms Blakes room? Desmond could only guess, but he found it likely. He could try the front door, potentially risking to disturb the old widow in her sleep, or try some other more... discreet method of contacting ms Blakes. Both strategies held merits and risks. The night wore on as he contemplated his approach.

[Red Wizard]

Browns desk was neat and tidy. All the pencils and papers were in the right place, everything folded and tucked away. There was a ledger in the top drawer containing the files of his open cases, along with Browns own notes on each one. The rest of the drawers contained what you would expect, like additional materials, old notebooks (dated and sorted), a framed picture of his sweetheart (or daughter? Olivia wasn't sure), an unsealed but closed envelope which Olivia decided against opening, etc, etc, etc. In this perfect picture of serene order, one thing stood out like a fresh sore; the newspaper, a copy of The Caledon Courier, flung carelessly on top of everything else.

The newspaper lay with the first page up, the headline exclaiming its message to the universe: Graveyard Vandalized! There were no notes next to this one, no clues or indications, save one. A name in the article was underscored, followed by a question mark. Worthington. Worthington? Olivia read the piece, starting to understand the significance of the scrawl. There had been body snatchers at work, a usual enough problem in Caledon. The surgeons needed their samples, after all, and few families were keen on selling their beloved dead to the butchers of the hospitals. Resurrectionists were cheaper, anyway, and required less paperwork. That wasn't anything to furrow your brow over, gruesome as it was. No, it was another detail of an almost throwaway line that demanded closer inspection.

Apparently, the crypt of the Worthington family had been breached, the stone door smashed open, but no corpse had been stolen. The article made no mention of the ghouls having been disturbed or stopped while doing their skullduggery, which meant they had chosen to refrain from touching the dead in the crypt. Understandable enough, as the family in question was old, rich, and powerful, but that demanded the question as to why they had bothered breaking down the stone door in the first place. No body had been stolen... But was there perhaps something else?

Olivia realized she had three possible leads to investigate; she could try searching the graveyard in general, and the crypt in particular, for clues. There could be something there overlooked by the journalists and constables. Maybe something more in line with her... Unusual talents. Or, she could try tracking down the writer of the article, one mr Simeon Gadd, and pry him for information. He would probably have been at the scene early. Maybe he had seen or heard something that didn't make it into the article, or wasn't possible to observe anymore. Finally, she could of course try to query the Worthington family in her quest for answers. Although why they would allow a detective, or a simple beat cop for that matter, to pry into what could possibly be private matters, she couldn't say.

One way or the other, the strange nature of the case called to her, no matter which lead she was going to choose.

[Red Wizard]

---

---

There’s a place where you really don’t want to be. A place where it’s cold and dark, and where no one can hear you scream. They call this place the Maw, because it swallows people whole and chews them up. Once you’ve checked in, you can never check out.

Unfortunetly, that’s where you are.

But it’s not like you didn’t do your best, or your worst, to get here. They don’t just feed anyone to the Maw. Only the worst of the worst are put here, and you’re worse than most. An enemy of the Kingdom, as it were. A proper blight on the land.

So why aren’t you dead?

It happens all the time, after all. People are killed for all manners of mischief, most of it far less terrible than what you’ve done. They’re hanged, beheaded, quartered and burned at the stake. So why keep you alive?

Because you’re useful, that’s why.

Your sort doesn’t come along every day. You’re smart, capable, powerful, and free of the moral inhibitions that keep the sheep from rising up. Talents like yours are hard to come by, so they have decided to save you for a rainy day.

Who are they, anyway?

They’re the King and all his men, or the tyrant and his cronies, depending on how you look at it. Rumor has it that he killed his brother and usurped his throne, and has been ruling with an iron fist ever since. No rebellion, coup or assassination has ever been able to topple his reign. Not that people haven’t tried. But he’s not the one who gives the orders. That’s the Warden.

She’s a piece of work, that one.

The Warden is scary, even to people like you. She’s… Different. Alien. She might look like a person, but she’s not. There’s something behind those dark eyes that makes your skin crawl and stomach churn with terror. She gets inside your head, somehow. Makes you do things you normally wouldn’t. No matter how much people try to avoid, cheat or kill her, they always end up doing what they’re told.

And now, it’s your turn.

You don’t know what it is, but they want something done, and you’ve been selected to do it. Could be a daring rescue. Could be a nefarious murder. What’s certain is, it’s probably going to get you killed. And in the unlikely event that you make it, the Maw will be waiting to swallow you up when you’re done…

…Unless you can do something about it.

---

---

Welcome to Blackguards!

This is the medieval fantasy version of Suicide Squad, in which a crew of colorful criminals get sent to their deaths trying to complete an impossible and sometimes (mostly) immoral mission, or quest, or thing. We will each take on the role of one of the inmates of the incredibly infamous prison the Maw, all terribly dangerous individuals, and portray their story as they do everything in their power to escape, survive, and possibly, but improbably, actually complete their mission.

Our motley crew of misfits will consist of the usual villainous archetypes; dark knights, heathen warlocks, deadly assassins, etc. You will have relatively free hands in creating your character but will have to abide by a few guidelines.

• You will use and fill out the provided CS. You may tweak the formatting if you wish.
• You will stick with fantasy races, either the usual ones or something more exotic. Nothing stupid, though.
• You will create an anti-hero or likeable villain; chaotic evil monsters or full on psychopaths are not what I’m looking for.
• Your character will be of a considerable power-level. Enough so that it poses a threat to the Kingdom if left unchecked, but nothing stupid. Could it take on a squad of the Kings finest? Without a problem. Could it solo a dragon? Not a chance.

A Little Lore

The King

His Majesty King Tyronde of Vortigern, alias the White Tiger, is the current ruler of the Westerlands. He is celebrated far and wide as a hero for having defeated his evil older brother, the Fallen King, who consorted with demons and preyed upon the populace. Under his reign, the people of the Westerlands have enjoyed peace and prosperity like never before throughout history. Together with the Temple of the Sun, he has ousted the old false gods of the heathens and unified the kingdom under one faith and tradition. Truly, there has never been a King like him.

If you believe the official story, that is.

Another, less tolerated, version claims that Tyronde conspired with the Heliarch of the Temple of the Sun to murder the old King and usurp his throne. In this version, the Westerlands used to be a diverse place of wonder where peoples of all creeds could live together in peace and harmony. The Tyrant and his Temple have demolished this society, forcing cohesion on the populace and banishing or outright slaughtering any and all who resist. Taxes are higher than ever, public executions are up, and children are sacrificed on massive pyres to the burning deity of the sun-worshipers.

The truth? Who knows. But you certainly know which version you subscribe to.

The Westerlands

The Westerlands, or the Sunset Lands as they’re sometimes called, is a realm with a long and complicated history. The Kingdom, now unified under His Majesty King Tyronde of Vortigern, was once a sprawling mess of minor feuding territories where a multitude of races and cultures coexisted in an uneasy balance. Dragon riders kept watch from the snow capped peaks of the Boreal Mountains, elven druids danced in the moonlit groves of the Sylvan Forests, dwarves delved deep into the dark caverns of the Underworld, and giants roamed the rocky Highlands in search of fallen stars. A thousand gods and spirits, great and small, rivalled for worship in an unending cycle of conflict and peace. The chaos (or freedom, if you’re so inclined) ended with the death of the old King and the purging fires of the Unification Wars. Under the Sigil of the Sun, the King (by some referred to as the Tyrant) brought law and order (or death and destruction) to the Westerlands. They proclaimed One King, One God, and One Tradition, casting everything else aside. Today, remnants of the old ways linger in faraway corners of the world, hiding from the scorching light of the Holy Sun in the shade and the dark.

The land itself is still the same, with its rolling hills, high mountains, deep valleys, flowing rivers and calm lakes. The ruins of the old world linger, teeming with secrets and mysteries, and the old magic still permeates everything, no matter how hard the King and his Temple tries to smother it out. Civilization is spreading, however, one day at a time, threatening to overtake the wilderness as time goes by.

The People

The Westerlands have always been a vast and diverse place, home to a plethora of more or less civilized races and peoples. The predominant race of the New Order under King Tyronde are the humans, who’s civilization previously ranked among the lesser ones of the land. They have expanded a lot in the decades since the White Tiger ascended the throne, and keep pushing the boundaries of other peoples territories.

Along with humans, the Westerlands are populated by elves, dwarves, orcs, and halflings, to name a few. These races are often divided into separate clans and peoples, derived from differances in culture and creed. Wood Elves, for instance, live in close connection with nature in the great forests of the world and see themselves as separate from the High Elves, who construct high towers and concern themselves with the skies and stars. Grey Dwarves, masters of stone and steel, have little in common with the Hill Dwarves practicing Runic Magic in the highlands. The Clan Orcs, who perfect the arts of martial prowess in secret fortified monasteries, want nothing to do with the Wild Orcs who pillage and burn along the coasts. The Hobbits, living in hidden close-knit communities in the wilds, can’t understand the nature of the Gnomes, solitary halflings who live as caretakers of mills, farmsteads and such in other peoples settlements.

There are other, less widespread races and peoples, too. The Naga of the Underworld waters, the Giants of the Highlands, the Fauns of the Forests, etc. Who knows what other beings are out there, among the forgotten places of the world?

Character Sheet Template

Character Sheet

Character Name

---

---

Name

Full Character Name

Race

Human/Elf/Orc/Dwarf/Halfling/Whatever

Gender

Male/Female/Whatever

Age

Character Age (Nothing Stupid)

Appearance

Hair/Eyes/Skin/Length/Weight/Build/Clothes/Whatever

Personality

Behavior/Quirks/Likes/Dislikes/Whatever

Background

Parents/Childhood/Education/Adulthood/Livelihood/Crimes against the Kingdom/Downfall/Whatever

Talents

Skills/Powers/Training/Whatever

Flaws

Fears/Vulnerabilities/Vices/Whatever

Equipment

The Stuff your Character checked in with (Nothing Stupid)

Miscellaneous

Whatever

Interested? Great! Let me know below, and apply with a character!

[Red Wizard]

Holgarth Half-Blood, King o' the Hills and the High Places

---

---

Name

Holgarth Half-Blood, King o' the Hills and the High Places

Race

Half-Giant

Gender

Male

Age

35

Appearance

Hair Shoulder length, coal black
Eyes Dark and challenging
Skin Tanned, weather worn, tattooed, scarred
Length 200cm / 6ft
Weight 120kg / 265lbs
Build Heavily muscular, broad chest, straight back
Clothes Loincloth and boots, all leather

Personality

Say one thing for the King o' the Hills, say he's a hard bastard. Holgarth is focused to the point that he is sometimes percieved as humorless by other people. He's infamous for his fiery temper, judging quickly and harshly. Once Holgarth has set his mind on something it is hard, if not impossible, to sway him from his course. This stubborness of character doubles as bravery in battle, which he persues fearlessly when given the chance. Holgarth is that man that fighting men dread having to face, the kind that smiles and licks the blood of his teeth after you've punched him square in the face.

Holgarths philosophy can be quickly summed up as "Might makes Right". If you can take a thing, it is yours. If you can force an opponent to submit with violence, your position is the superior one. In his mind, violence is the supreme authority from which all other authorities are derived. This belief has bestowed him with a somewhat surprising respect for King Tyronde, whose force conquered Hogarths own. He is not one to submit, however, having vowed revenge and intending to collect Tyrondes head one day. He looks forward to the struggle with all his heart.

Bearing this in mind, one could be led to believe that Holgarth is nothing more than a mindless, bloodthirsty brute. Nothing could be further from the truth. The King o' the Hills and the High Places is a cunning man; perhaps not learned, but in possession of an uncanny guile forged from years and years of wars and battles. Holgarth knows that telling a man you will kill him does not make it so. The true warrior hides his blade in the grass and strikes when least expected. All in all, the Half-Blood is a very dangerous man to count among your enemies.

Background

Holgarth was born to certain stars by uncertain parents under a bloodied moon somewhere in the High Places of the Westerlands. His mother, a human whose name has been lost to history, died giving birth to the giant baby. The abomination was quickly discarded by the tribe she belonged to, put in the wilderness to be eaten by wolves. They had not counted on Holgarths father to care for his offspring, but he did. The stars told of a promising future for the youngling, and the giant took him on to explore what destiny had in store. Not much is known about Holgarths formative years, but the rumor is that his giant father fed him blood instead of the mothers milk he was robbed of.

Many years later, Holgarth returned to his mothers tribe. She had been of noble blood, and the Half-Blood came demanding his position as chieftain of the tribe. They flatly refused, and so it came to be that Holgarth slew the twelve men that dared challenge his claim.

Talents

Skills/Powers/Training/Whatever

Flaws

Fears/Vulnerabilities/Vices/Whatever

Equipment

The Stuff your Character checked in with (Nothing Stupid)

Miscellaneous

Whatever

[Red Wizard]

---

---

There’s a place where you really don’t want to be. A place where it’s cold and dark, and where no one can hear you scream. They call this place the Maw, because it swallows people whole and chews them up. Once you’ve checked in, you can never check out.

Unfortunetly, that’s where you are.

But it’s not like you didn’t do your best, or your worst, to get here. They don’t just feed anyone to the Maw. Only the worst of the worst are put here, and you’re worse than most. An enemy of the Kingdom, as it were. A proper blight on the land.

So why aren’t you dead?

It happens all the time, after all. People are killed for all manners of mischief, most of it far less terrible than what you’ve done. They’re hanged, beheaded, quartered and burned at the stake. So why keep you alive?

Because you’re useful, that’s why.

Your sort doesn’t come along every day. You’re smart, capable, powerful, and free of the moral inhibitions that keep the sheep from rising up. Talents like yours are hard to come by, so they have decided to save you for a rainy day.

Who are they, anyway?

They’re the King and all his men, or the tyrant and his cronies, depending on how you look at it. Rumor has it that he killed his brother and usurped his throne, and has been ruling with an iron fist ever since. No rebellion, coup or assassination has ever been able to topple his reign. Not that people haven’t tried. But he’s not the one who gives the orders. That’s the Warden.

She’s a piece of work, that one.

The Warden is scary, even to people like you. She’s… Different. Alien. She might look like a person, but she’s not. There’s something behind those dark eyes that makes your skin crawl and stomach churn with terror. She gets inside your head, somehow. Makes you do things you normally wouldn’t. No matter how much people try to avoid, cheat or kill her, they always end up doing what they’re told.

And now, it’s your turn.

You don’t know what it is, but they want something done, and you’ve been selected to do it. Could be a daring rescue. Could be a nefarious murder. What’s certain is, it’s probably going to get you killed. And in the unlikely event that you make it, the Maw will be waiting to swallow you up when you’re done…

…Unless you can do something about it.

---

---

Welcome to Blackguards!

This is the medieval fantasy version of Suicide Squad, in which a crew of colorful criminals get sent to their deaths trying to complete an impossible and sometimes (mostly) immoral mission, or quest, or thing. We will each take on the role of one of the inmates of the incredibly infamous prison the Maw, all terribly dangerous individuals, and portray their story as they do everything in their power to escape, survive, and possibly, but improbably, actually complete their mission.

The game is currently full. Every user who participated in the Interest Check is invited to join here, but I'm afraid I must ask newcomers to refrain from applying unless I for some reason open the game up again.

A Little Lore

The King

His Majesty King Tyronde of Vortigern, alias the White Tiger, is the current ruler of the Westerlands. He is celebrated far and wide as a hero for having defeated his evil older brother, the Fallen King, who consorted with demons and preyed upon the populace. Under his reign, the people of the Westerlands have enjoyed peace and prosperity like never before throughout history. Together with the Temple of the Sun, he has ousted the old false gods of the heathens and unified the kingdom under one faith and tradition. Truly, there has never been a King like him.

If you believe the official story, that is.

Another, less tolerated, version claims that Tyronde conspired with the Heliarch of the Temple of the Sun to murder the old King and usurp his throne. In this version, the Westerlands used to be a diverse place of wonder where peoples of all creeds could live together in peace and harmony. The Tyrant and his Temple have demolished this society, forcing cohesion on the populace and banishing or outright slaughtering any and all who resist. Taxes are higher than ever, public executions are up, and children are sacrificed on massive pyres to the burning deity of the sun-worshipers.

The truth? Who knows. But you certainly know which version you subscribe to.

The Westerlands

The Westerlands, or the Sunset Lands as they’re sometimes called, is a realm with a long and complicated history. The Kingdom, now unified under His Majesty King Tyronde of Vortigern, was once a sprawling mess of minor feuding territories where a multitude of races and cultures coexisted in an uneasy balance. Dragon riders kept watch from the snow capped peaks of the Boreal Mountains, elven druids danced in the moonlit groves of the Sylvan Forests, dwarves delved deep into the dark caverns of the Underworld, and giants roamed the rocky Highlands in search of fallen stars. A thousand gods and spirits, great and small, rivalled for worship in an unending cycle of conflict and peace. The chaos (or freedom, if you’re so inclined) ended with the death of the old King and the purging fires of the Unification Wars. Under the Sigil of the Sun, the King (by some referred to as the Tyrant) brought law and order (or death and destruction) to the Westerlands. They proclaimed One King, One God, and One Tradition, casting everything else aside. Today, remnants of the old ways linger in faraway corners of the world, hiding from the scorching light of the Holy Sun in the shade and the dark.

The land itself is still the same, with its rolling hills, high mountains, deep valleys, flowing rivers and calm lakes. The ruins of the old world linger, teeming with secrets and mysteries, and the old magic still permeates everything, no matter how hard the King and his Temple tries to smother it out. Civilization is spreading, however, one day at a time, threatening to overtake the wilderness as time goes by.

The People

The Westerlands have always been a vast and diverse place, home to a plethora of more or less civilized races and peoples. The predominant race of the New Order under King Tyronde are the humans, who’s civilization previously ranked among the lesser ones of the land. They have expanded a lot in the decades since the White Tiger ascended the throne, and keep pushing the boundaries of other peoples territories.

Along with humans, the Westerlands are populated by elves, dwarves, orcs, and halflings, to name a few. These races are often divided into separate clans and peoples, derived from differances in culture and creed. Wood Elves, for instance, live in close connection with nature in the great forests of the world and see themselves as separate from the High Elves, who construct high towers and concern themselves with the skies and stars. Grey Dwarves, masters of stone and steel, have little in common with the Hill Dwarves practicing Runic Magic in the highlands. The Clan Orcs, who perfect the arts of martial prowess in secret fortified monasteries, want nothing to do with the Wild Orcs who pillage and burn along the coasts. The Hobbits, living in hidden close-knit communities in the wilds, can’t understand the nature of the Gnomes, solitary halflings who live as caretakers of mills, farmsteads and such in other peoples settlements.

There are other, less widespread races and peoples, too. The Naga of the Underworld waters, the Giants of the Highlands, the Fauns of the Forests, etc. Who knows what other beings are out there, among the forgotten places of the world?

Rules for Posting

There is one general rule that all players of Blackguards! must adhere to, and that is the Hierarchy of Content. Every post and actions within said post should strive to uphold this hierarchy. It goes as follows:

• The Story comes first. Try to keep your post in line with where the story is right now, and where it is going. Don't post a development that breaks with the story, like one-shotting an apparent Big Bad or going off on an own adventure. Be smart. And, if you're uncertain as how to proceed, just ask. We can discuss it in the OOC.
• The Group comes second. This isn't a one man show. We're collaborating a story here, so let's try to make sure that everybody has fun and gets something out of it. Our characters might turn into rivals, and perhaps even fight, but we as players should always strive to find solutions that work well for the group. Bear in mind that the group needs to prioritize the story.
• The Character comes last. Stay in character. What would it do, given the current circumstance? Remember, you're not playing yourself. Your character might have moral inclinations and goals that differ from your own. Use this to your and your fellow players advantage. Don't, however, go against the group. And don't go against the story.

If you follow this hierarchy, there should be no problems. You will have lots of freedom in this game; I will try to interfere as little as possible. My role as GM will be to introduce you to the quest and eventual obstacles to overcome, but I don't want you looking to me for every NPC interaction or story development. Again, if you're unsure, just ask and we'll discuss it. Most NPCs are free game to do with as you wish. The more important ones will be obvious, and may require a bit more finesse in dealing with. If your character acts against another PC, however, the rules are slighty different. You may not control other PC characters. Instead, you must describe a) what your character tries to do to them and b) what it hopes to accomplish with that action. It is up to the other player to decide how their character reacts. Remember the hierarchy.

I expect every player to contribute a minimum of 1 post per week. If you know that you're going to miss the mark, I expect you to communicate this in the OOC. An unannounced absence of two weeks will result in forfeiting the character, which will be written out of the game by the GM. Similarly, if a player wants to, or has to, opt out of the game for any reason, I would strongly like to encourage making a final post in which the character is written out of the game, lest I have to do it for you.

Let's make this a fun and memorable game! I'm really excited about playing with you guys; we have so many great characters, and I think this could be a really cool experience for all of us. Let's keep it tight, and don't be afraid to ask questions or raise concerns in the OOC. We're doing this together!

[Red Wizard]

---

---