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Most Recent Posts
I'm afraid I'm going to officially bow out before I officially apply.
I wasn't sure if I should wait for an official CS, or just follow Forsythe's lead.
Yeah, that's kind of where I'm going. He's certainly intelligent, but guileless, ineloquent, and generally unwilling to apply himself to subjects that don't interest him.
A possible slice of life side plot: the rangers have arranged an after school club of some kind as an excuse to gather without drawing suspicion, but Blue is in danger of losing his extracurricular privileges at school because of his English grade.
Joining the rangers would definitely give him a drive he was lacking, but it also ends up taking a lot of time and energy, leaving less for school work.
A possible slice of life side plot: the rangers have arranged an after school club of some kind as an excuse to gather without drawing suspicion, but Blue is in danger of losing his extracurricular privileges at school because of his English grade.
Joining the rangers would definitely give him a drive he was lacking, but it also ends up taking a lot of time and energy, leaving less for school work.
@CaptainManbeard my man, I love the story lines you're laying out. I take it we're meant to have a hand in writing the story, since you referred to your players as co-writers instead?
Anyway, lemme lay down my character idea, in general terms: southern himbo gearhead. Big, sweet, and seems dumb in some ways, but he gets machines on an intuitive level.
Maybe he starts to learn how the alien ship works, and helps repair it(guided by our Zordon).
If there's an arc where we lose the nano-suits, maybe he builds a simpler, mechanical version to get by, using his knowledge of alien tech and human mechanical engineering.
Let me know what would be going too far.
Anyway, lemme lay down my character idea, in general terms: southern himbo gearhead. Big, sweet, and seems dumb in some ways, but he gets machines on an intuitive level.
Maybe he starts to learn how the alien ship works, and helps repair it(guided by our Zordon).
If there's an arc where we lose the nano-suits, maybe he builds a simpler, mechanical version to get by, using his knowledge of alien tech and human mechanical engineering.
Let me know what would be going too far.
I am interested. I'm not very familiar with power rangers at all, but being set in an original version helps, since you described the backstory so well.
I was thinking blue ranger. I'm not sure about the third animal, but I thought peregrine falcon. I thought it would be cool if they had a lance as a weapon, and flew at enemies at high speed.
But I do see that there's a lot of birds going round, so maybe I'll rethink it.
I was thinking blue ranger. I'm not sure about the third animal, but I thought peregrine falcon. I thought it would be cool if they had a lance as a weapon, and flew at enemies at high speed.
But I do see that there's a lot of birds going round, so maybe I'll rethink it.
So, I'm interested, and I have an idea for a dark side cult, if you'll let me know if this will fit in.
The Family. Hierarchy is superficially quite simple, with only two tiers. Sibling, and Child.
Siblings, titled predictably as "Brother [name]" or "Sister [name]," are nominally equal. None is permitted to hold dominion over the others, but don't be fooled into thinking this makes them a democracy. Each does as they please, with the single rule being that they may not harm each other. Despite constant internal strife, they are (generally) unreasonably loyal to one another, and will band together without a thought against any outside threat. The number of siblings is limited by the Family's collection of lightsabers. You must have one to gain the title, but no one in the Family actually knows how to build them.
Children are a combination of apprentice and slave. They are taught the traditions and skills of the Family, and often pitted against each other to sharpen those skills. In a bizarre twist, while Siblings are forbidden to harm their Brothers and Sisters, Children are encouraged to try to kill their elders to claim one of the Family's prized lightsabers. This is both the Children's only means of advancement, and the Siblings' primary weapon against each other. You may not harm your Brother, but you can train his successor, and orchestrate his death.
Their philosophy is fairly typical, if quite unsophisticated dark side rhetoric. They use strong emotions to bend the Force to their will, with a particular reverence for pain as a source of power. It is quite common for their garb to include deliberately painful eleme to, such as spikes, needles or even piercings that affix to the garment. As the Force has quieted, they have resorted to stranger and more drastic versions of this practice.
The Family. Hierarchy is superficially quite simple, with only two tiers. Sibling, and Child.
Siblings, titled predictably as "Brother [name]" or "Sister [name]," are nominally equal. None is permitted to hold dominion over the others, but don't be fooled into thinking this makes them a democracy. Each does as they please, with the single rule being that they may not harm each other. Despite constant internal strife, they are (generally) unreasonably loyal to one another, and will band together without a thought against any outside threat. The number of siblings is limited by the Family's collection of lightsabers. You must have one to gain the title, but no one in the Family actually knows how to build them.
Children are a combination of apprentice and slave. They are taught the traditions and skills of the Family, and often pitted against each other to sharpen those skills. In a bizarre twist, while Siblings are forbidden to harm their Brothers and Sisters, Children are encouraged to try to kill their elders to claim one of the Family's prized lightsabers. This is both the Children's only means of advancement, and the Siblings' primary weapon against each other. You may not harm your Brother, but you can train his successor, and orchestrate his death.
Their philosophy is fairly typical, if quite unsophisticated dark side rhetoric. They use strong emotions to bend the Force to their will, with a particular reverence for pain as a source of power. It is quite common for their garb to include deliberately painful eleme to, such as spikes, needles or even piercings that affix to the garment. As the Force has quieted, they have resorted to stranger and more drastic versions of this practice.
I would be interested, if this still happens.
My first thought character is a "constructed" monster(of the Frankenstein type) sent to school as kind of a "stress test" to determine if they can handle the rigors of society.
My first thought character is a "constructed" monster(of the Frankenstein type) sent to school as kind of a "stress test" to determine if they can handle the rigors of society.
Faira directed the soldiers to fight the goblins, and put the new, less trained conscripts to work splintering the remaining ladders with axes. When only one ladder remained, she commanded a halt to their world and approached. A swift thrust dispatched the lead goblin climber, sending it tumbling down to knock its fellows off the ladder. She stepped onto the siege weapon herself and kicked off the wall with the force of an angry mule, sending it tipping backward to the ground. Grabbing a goblin about the neck to catch her fall, Faira stood among the stunned enemies and set about hacking her way towards Manald and the trolls.
One was down, but clearly lived, and Manald was making his bestial way towards the remaining creature. Faira stopped at the downed troll, and reactivated the spell on her dagger. She plunged it into the trolls throat with a sizzle of burningbmeat and blood, and wrenched it across the neck to sever the head. That should do it, she thought. Before the surrounding goblins could recover and swarm her, she hurled the still-blazing knife past Manald and aiming for the space between the armor on the back of the last trolls neck.
Faira returned her second hand to her sword and swung for a nearby goblin, trusting the riflemen to thin the herd around her so she would not be over run.
One was down, but clearly lived, and Manald was making his bestial way towards the remaining creature. Faira stopped at the downed troll, and reactivated the spell on her dagger. She plunged it into the trolls throat with a sizzle of burningbmeat and blood, and wrenched it across the neck to sever the head. That should do it, she thought. Before the surrounding goblins could recover and swarm her, she hurled the still-blazing knife past Manald and aiming for the space between the armor on the back of the last trolls neck.
Faira returned her second hand to her sword and swung for a nearby goblin, trusting the riflemen to thin the herd around her so she would not be over run.
Faira looked over the battlements as the day was still young. She leaned on the wall, and said nothing to her companions. She quite agreed with her placement here, and Manald's as well. A great deal of extra strength would be needed to dislodge any ladders that found the wall. Her armor was in its loosened state, ready for her muscles to expand when she let the blood heat flow.
Suddenly, Faira stood up fully, her hands planted on the wall as she looked out to the east.
"They come. Ladders and... gods damned trolls!"
She couldn't do much but watch as they approached. She commanded that the rifles focus their fire on the trolls, as she trusted that the ladders could be dealt with in their turn. They had prepared for a scaling attack, but nobody had made any real consideration for defending the gate.
When the first ladder arrived, Faira, having watched its path, was already in position. Her muscles bulged as she let her magic flow through her body. Immediately, she began to sweat, and her hot breath hung thickly in the air. She grabbed the ladder, and simply pushed it away. The ladder tumbled backwards, landing heavily on a few goblins in its path. The remaining goblins, however, were undeterred and began to right it again. What's more, the next ladder that went up was braced more heavily, so that it was quite immovable and Faira was forced to content herself with drawing her sword and beheading any goblin that showed its face above the wall.
When she had a clear moment, she drew her dagger, and slid the blade along her wrist, leaving a small cut. Her blood activated the magic in the weapon, and it quickly began to glow as if she had pulled it from a forge. Faira thrust the dagger, halfway up the blade, into the wood of the ladder, which quickly caught fire itself, and began to burn. She moved to the next ladder to repeat this while the spell still held, her soldiers were meanwhile working with axes to splinter the ladders so that they could not be easily braced on the wall.
"Manald!" She called suddenly, looking down into the mass of foes. The trolls had been slowed by the peppering of lead from the rifles, but they were far from stopped, and had nearly made it. "We need to do something about those trolls!"
Suddenly, Faira stood up fully, her hands planted on the wall as she looked out to the east.
"They come. Ladders and... gods damned trolls!"
She couldn't do much but watch as they approached. She commanded that the rifles focus their fire on the trolls, as she trusted that the ladders could be dealt with in their turn. They had prepared for a scaling attack, but nobody had made any real consideration for defending the gate.
When the first ladder arrived, Faira, having watched its path, was already in position. Her muscles bulged as she let her magic flow through her body. Immediately, she began to sweat, and her hot breath hung thickly in the air. She grabbed the ladder, and simply pushed it away. The ladder tumbled backwards, landing heavily on a few goblins in its path. The remaining goblins, however, were undeterred and began to right it again. What's more, the next ladder that went up was braced more heavily, so that it was quite immovable and Faira was forced to content herself with drawing her sword and beheading any goblin that showed its face above the wall.
When she had a clear moment, she drew her dagger, and slid the blade along her wrist, leaving a small cut. Her blood activated the magic in the weapon, and it quickly began to glow as if she had pulled it from a forge. Faira thrust the dagger, halfway up the blade, into the wood of the ladder, which quickly caught fire itself, and began to burn. She moved to the next ladder to repeat this while the spell still held, her soldiers were meanwhile working with axes to splinter the ladders so that they could not be easily braced on the wall.
"Manald!" She called suddenly, looking down into the mass of foes. The trolls had been slowed by the peppering of lead from the rifles, but they were far from stopped, and had nearly made it. "We need to do something about those trolls!"
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