BangoSkank

Warhammer Fantasy: The Guild of Esteemed Sellswords - An adventure in the Warhammer Fantasy world! [REBOOTED] [FULL]

I'm interested in joining as a Halfling Fieldwarden turned Ranger, he's also a cook. A brilliant well learned master of hauture cuisinery, in his own mind at least. I'm working on a character sheet.

Warhammer 40k: Answering the Call - An Only War/Guard RP [Seeking cannon fodder]

I too would be interested in joining but know very little about the 40K setting. I really like the idea of people who arent soldiers being forced into acting as such.

Deadlands - A Supernatural Western

"Not looking for work mister. Looking for Lilly. That waitress, you seen her? I, I fucked up. I have a thing for her. Tell her, if you see her, tell her that I'm sorry. I fucked up. I spended the morning waiting on her at the train station. She never showed."

He says all this stumbling about his words and scratching at his face.

"You say $10 dollars and $2 a day on top of that?" a dirty man with a needful look asks.

"I've got some fellas could take you out that way. Don't know exactly where you unnerstand, but we seen abouts where he were goin' with all that gear."

Printed guns, melded metal - An experimental GM-less Cyberpunk RP

This sounds very interesting. These questions might not be particularly important but I figured I'd ask a bit about the setting for myself and for others who may not be very familiar with it beyond watching movies or the CP2077 trailer.

Where is it set geographically?

New California like in CB2077?
New York?
Chicago?
Seattle?
Hong Kong?
Tokyo?
Dubai?
New Delhi?

Also, for folks not super familiar with CP 2020 like me, maybe you could indicate a bit more about the setting. Like is it a very global world, meaning would there be a lot of importation and exportation going on? I assume the answer is yes, but if it were say a more insular setting that could also be interesting.

Is it set in a slum, or in a metropolis, or in a metropolis atop a slum, or in a metropolis next door to a slum?

What form of dystopia? Is there a lot of video surveillance? Are the police heavy handed? If they are are they Judge Dredd heavy handed or Any Moving Taking Place in LA heavy handed? In that regard I'm largely wondering if the anti-establishment aspect of it is solidly justified.

It doesn't seem as though starvation would be a thing, but it does seem like there's probably a huge separation between the wealthy and the poor. Is poor generally so poor there are no augmentations, or are they just less effective/more likely to malfunction?

(I'll edit out any of these questions if I've glossed over the answers, I've already edited the message as I was typing but I might have missed the answer twice)

Deadlands - A Supernatural Western

The Father hadn't much more to tell them, for better or worse. The Ghost Rock may or may not have been what killed his friend, but either way the Father could not lead them to the mine. The best he could offer would be to point them towards some of the townspeople who might know about it. Charles had always operated the mine alone, but in all likelihood someone had either shadowed him to the site or at least made a note of what path he was taking or what direction he headed every day.

It was late now anyway. With that cougar still out there folks wouldn't be too keen to be creeping about looking for that mine. The Father invited everyone there to come join him at the Bed and Breakfast for dinner and a bed. He bid them farewell and headed out that way to oversee the preparation and put any finishing touches on the short prayer he began every dinner with.

- - - The Next Morning - - -

Another day begins in Selina at a very early hour. Even so some have been up for awhile. Cooks from the monastery have to be up before anyone else to provide a breakfast for the travelers heading in and out of Selina. The inviting aroma of a lovingly prepared, if simple, breakfast permeate the Bed and Breakfast. Whether still in bed, sitting at a table, or already outside greeting the morning it would be hard not to smell that sizzling bacon.

In the dining room the shop owners lazily finish their breakfasts, the sheriff sits in the corner keeping an eye on the door while neatly cutting up and eating a large plate of scrambled eggs and flank steak. Outside a number of semi-employed wanderers are grouping up, checking with each other to see what jobs might be available. Selina isn't Dodge, there's a limited amount of work, but there's still just about always work to be done. Among them is the man from the bar earlier, his nose already healing well though still slightly swollen.

Deadlands - A Supernatural Western

Was it the rock that did this to him.

That was a question that had plagued the Father since the day Charles came back different, or at least since the day the Father had realized his old friend was changed. It brought the entire experience back for him.

"That's the question isn't it? It's one that's been ticking in the back of my head."

He rubs his wrists in thought, trying to figure out how honest he should really be but deciding to just unburden himself.

"I'm a Father, you understand yes? I've devoted my life to the Good Book. I believe deeply in the Lord. In his power and his wisdom. In his central goodness. And this entire experience, it has thrown me for a loop."

He looks apologetically to Aveline, "I'm not as strong as I always thought myself to be. My faith has been tested and much as I want to say otherwise, it has been found wanting."

"Did the rock do it to him? I can't be certain. Whatever did it to him, I wasn't able to do anything to stop it. I did everything within my capability both theologically and medically. As a pastor and as a doctor. I couldn't stop it. I couldn't even make a dent. I..."

"I don't know, and I don't what would be worse. If it is or if it isn't. If it is, then it's a poison running through the veins of this country. If it's not, then what did this?"

Deadlands - A Supernatural Western

Father O'Flanagan leads the group around the back of the chapel to a freshly filled in grave site. It's quite small with a modest head stone amid a number of larger more ornate headstones. Many are marked as Union or Confederate soldiers but are located on opposite sides of the graveyard.

"My friend here," he gestures to the grave site, "owned that mine. Was always convinced it would show something. Said he could feel a fortune just beneath his feet, but he always got caught up with one thing or another in town. Helped build and from time to time rebuild half of Selina. He was a good man, owned the mine but he wasn't obsessed the way some get. All those distractions, it took years but one day a few months ago, he said he was about to his fortune. He knew it."

O'Flanagan points the group over to a small groundskeepers shack with a pile of equipment beside it.

"Came back to town to have a dinner with me one night, told me all about it, about all the good he was going to do when he sold that Ghost Rock off. Sounded great, miraculous. Old Charlie he bought up all that gear and lugged it, and a ton of vittles, out of town to complete his little project." Wringing his hands he continues.

"Charlie come back the next day real quiet. Didn't want to talk about the mine, or the rock, or the fortune. Didn't bother to try to sell all that equipment. Was always nervous and always hungry."

O'Flanagan is quiet for a bit. He knows he hasn't really explained it right. Don't much like to talk about it.

"He never really came back I mean. His body were here. His face. It was Charles, but it wasn't. Like them soldiers that see too much, you men must have seen that sort of thing right? It was like that, but it was more. We seen them men before and we can work through it most times. This was different, Charles was different. We collect up funds and goods at the chapel, feed the people, nourish their bodies and their souls like the Good Book says. Charles couldn't get no nourishment. When I say he was always hungry I mean it. He'd eat enough food for three good grown men, still be hungry, and still lose weight. By the end he was damn near skeletal."

He dusts off the gravestone and continues, "He was a strong man. Busy, always busy, and big lord he was a big man. Yet in the end he was weak as a child and shriveled. Wasted. I can't stop you from looking for the mine, I don't doubt one of the louts about town shadowed him out about that way at some point. I just want to warn you, Charles was a good Christian man. He was strong in spirit and body and whatever he saw there broke his body and his spirit along with it."

Roof Trainers - W40k Ork RP using the Roll for Shoes System

I am but I’m not so sure I’ve really got the time to do it. I’d like to but I think I’ll probably end up not contributing much so I’m just going to drop out now. Seems like a fun story, I’ll be sure to read it.

Roof Trainers - W40k Ork RP using the Roll for Shoes System

I used the bot to roll and got 3, but I can reroll it we want to avoid the Bad Moons. I’ll start thinking up a character either way but I’m on a phone tonight so I probably won’t post.

I wouldn’t be opposed if we want to all go Evil Sunz

Deadlands - A Supernatural Western

As they enter the general market the Father greets Tobias, the owner, by name and explains what he is here for. The older man heads to the back to get it.

“Don’t trust the stuff,” he clarified while they wait in the shop.

“It’s not natural I don’t believe. Everything is of the Father of course, and I have never read anything about it in the Good Book, but I read plenty enough about temptation and that Ghost Rock she is a temptation. You’ll see.”

The shop is quite plain and sparsely stocked. Nothing to be particularly excited about. It contains the things a traveler on the prairie needs but likely not what one might desire. The shopkeeper comes back carrying a box big enough to fit the pistols and holsters of everyone in the room all at once with meticulous care.

“Alright Tobias,” the Father says as he takes the box, shooing Tobias away.

“Don’t like folk looking at it too much. Gives them funny ideas. I believe this damn rock got an old friend of mine killed somehow.”

The Father takes off his gloves and from the finger of one of them retrieves a small key and unlocks the clasp. As he opens it you can see inside.

A great number of rags are bunched up filling the majority of the box and giving the weighty object you can feel but not see a wealth of padding. There is an immediate magnetism as the lid opens. A desire to see that object laid bare, to examine it intimately.

“Feel that?” the Father asks. “That’s why I keep this fool thing locked up.”

“Don’t mean to say you boys are fools now. I know well enough how much money these things bring and how much they’re driving the expansion out West. I suppose everyone knows that. Just. It just. It feels to me like the thing for a mind of its own. Feels to me like it killed Charles and it know’d what it was doing.”

He turns back to the others, somewhat hoping they will seem uninterested but of course this rock is what they seek. They’re going to want to see it.

Putting his glove back on he brushes aside the rags to reveal a large piece of cratered white rock.

“Looks a bit like coal at first don’t it? Like white coal?”

It does, at first glance. Looks like white coal, but pitted all over with small craters. Looking closer you realize the borders of those craters seem to fall very sharply creating ridges that look quite sharp. It is hard not to desire to feel those ridges on your hand. To roll it around your hand and feel it’s balance shift. Hard too not to look closer. Hard not to examine the craters, noting their near but not complete uniformity. Hard not to think that this rock should really, by all rights, belong to you.

“You know,” he sees after he all too quickly covers the glorious thing in rags once again, “it’s said when you burn Ghost Rock it screams.”

His hand trembles as he closes the lid, then closes the clasp and locks it shut.

“They say all kinds of things about Ghost Rock.”

He pushes the locked box away and secrets the key in his glove again.

“You’ll want to meet the owner of the mine now, unless you have questions let us hurry. It’s getting late and I must preside over supper.”