Mistiel

Forgotten Worlds

There, edited the first post. Hope you're happ....zzzzzz it's 2AM i give up on typ..dkllekiimc esspp!!! :/

Forgotten Worlds

<Snipped quote by Mistiel>

....if you do drop off on activity, I'll do so too.

@Letter Bee

Wow, that's a guilt trip and a half....:/

Forgotten Worlds

Yeah so umm....I applied to this basically just to mess around and troll. Holy wow this is a lot more work than I signed on for. I guess I won't leave per se, but you're not gonna get very quality (or much of a quantity of) posts from me given how I'm focusing on two D&D campaigns right now. Was gonna write about some council meeting for Note, but Mistiel.exe has almost run out of Fs and is shutting down for about a 48 hour reboot (I run on XP figuratively speaking; Windows 10 actually speaking).

Looks like I'm a bigger deadbeat than DeadBeatWalking.

Forgotten Worlds

Treblea

-
-

Castrato

"But maman! The sunset through the trees is supes pretty!" exclaimed the red-haired, small girl exclaimed over her shoulder back in the direction of the house. Her pale, heavily freckled skin was outlined in a golden hue from the very sun that was just now setting over the trees a good quarter of a mile away from their small countryside farmhouse and even larger barn. The treeline formed a ring that arced off into the distance in either direction. The uniformity of the ring was quite eerie and unnatural in and of itself. It was the sunset, however, that distracted the adventurous eleven-year-old lass from the weird forested border of the land of Treblea.

"No dear!" the mother in question, a fairer skinned woman in her late thirties replied whilst hanging laundry on a clothesline above a stone-bordered trench in the ground layered with coals in the middle. The resulting heat wafted upward from the long little trench, effectively - if slowly - drying out the fabrics. With a faint lilt in her voice, the older woman with kindly green eyes resumed speaking, "What have I told ya about goin' into the forest naew? It be dangerous in there, it is. All kin's of weird magic. Ye liable to c'ot yer arm off like yer father! Now is that what ye want, hmm?" She finished her spiel before dumping more coals in the long trench to replenish the dying flames. The clothes were to dry overnight, for it was to be a clear evening, and be ready in the morning for their trip into the town of Castrato proper at the crest of its hill.

The girl hung her head in despairing obedience, shuffling her bare feet inside and running her hands over her extremely simple white cotton dress that her mother had sewn lovingly for her with musical knitting needles - click, clack, clickity clack! - over the course of the entire last winter. The family went inside their simple two story brown wooden farmhouse, made from trees harvested from the edge of that very forest. As dusk fell a set of glowing purple eyes framed by long, thick, shaggy whitish gray fur stared hungrily out of a thicket of bushes at the family's house...and more specifically...the pen full of livestock, and one horse, that stood or slept in a fenced off area beside the long, low, wide barn adjacent to the house. The gigantic wolf, whose fur seemed to ripple with an odd, arcane energy that no being had so far had lived to recount, leapt from his hiding place and crossed the quarter of a mile distance in a mere thirty seconds, leaping over the short fence as casually as if it were a pile of poo on the ground he had discovered while strolling.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________

Note

Seven men and one woman reclined with various instruments on long, low couches....if they could be called couches. The Treblean verbal language did not have a word for them aside from a generic "tolg" which could be used to describe a bed, a sofa, a chair, or just about anything a butt made contact with - yes, anything, euphemism included.

The one woman, Lady Triblianistven, was the newest chosen official for the capitol of Note. Their current deliberation of sorts was whether or not to change the capitol city's name from Note to Notea. A big pro in favor of this change was that it would shore up confusion in day-to-day conversation on whether or not someone was referring to music notes, their currency shaped like music notes, or the city itself.

Debates such as these were not typically decided orally in Treblea. Rather, at each seat as it were, all the Treblean representatives formed a council, or more precisely, a musical ensemble. Each of them held an instrument. The representative of Capriccio bore a string instrument called a lyre. The Castrato representative, the only other female, held a flute firmly to her lips, legs crossed and eyes closed in concentration. Soprano's representative, a male whose voice was renowned for being oddly high-pitched despite his tall and reedy posture, sat blowing on a long dark pipe-like instrument that produced hollow notes; their word for this was simply an oboe. Mezzo's representative, an elderly man with a long white beard and who wore nothing but a toga that "let all or most of it hang out", sat crisscross applesauce - much to the dismay of the Notean female leader directly across from him - and plucked upon a medium-sized harp. Alto's representative, an exceedingly handsome black-haired male with glistening muscles and an abbreviated costume, if somewhat more modest about the nether region than the older man's, reclined in a relaxed manner and blew into the mouthpiece of an odd looking checkmark shaped instrument. When questioned as to the instrument's name, he would look at you, not pausing to take his mouth off the mouthpiece and simply mumble "sax" audibly through the piece. This often confused women - and the rare man - into thinking he wanted "favors" from them. Rococo's representative slapped the stretched hide leather tops of four drums laid out across his lap in a staccato, chill beat; his head dipping and chin jutting out in time with the motion of his hands. Lastly, Etude's representative, a small, hook-nosed man with an arrogant demeanor about him, sat and played the liveliest tune of them all on a violin, which the people of Treblea called a veidhlin.

It was in this matter that the Trebleans represented each of their respective hilltop miniature kingdoms. Whosoever they voted on for best performance afterward would get final say on the issue currently being debated. As a result, all the performers had been playing their different melodies and rhythms and beats since three hours past the cock's crow. Night had now fallen on the city of Note(a) and the makeshift politicians still played on. Their families had long since entered the center town building that served Note(a) as a city hall or gathering place of sorts. Etude's wife decided to tempt her husband by waving a hot bowl of stew underneath his chin, but the stern-faced man simply closed his eyes and played an even faster tune on his veidhlin. The tension in the room was palpable as the music reached a crescendo, each melody blending in with the others in a discordant crash that was both beautiful and horrendous simultaneously. This was about the sixth crescendo of music for that day, the loudest one yet. As the music reached a fever pitch and the familial crowd began swaying back and forth in response, caught up in the dramatic climax, all eight representatives threw back their heads, one after another, and called out a vote. Each one's vote was either "Note" or "Notea" as their faces were suddenly graced with beatific smiles; most of them had a prodigious sheen of perspiration on their brows and/or cheeks. The vote was denied six to two, the two women on the "council" each voting in favor of Notea over Note.

At last, the music finally fell away into silence and everybody in the room breathed a sigh of relief and exchanged triumphant smiles regardless of political sides. The fact that the Castrato representative had voted with Note's female representative was no surprise. Castrato had a rule that men were not allowed to rule or manage money. They also had a rule where all men in servant roles must be castrated, even if they became a servant in the middle of their life. Uncastrated working males were viewed by Castratan women as unclean and perverted for better or worse. This bias has existed ever since their hilltop town had been run by a cruel, supremely power-hungry, schauvinistic narcissist named Billy when the town had been named Vigliacci.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Forgotten Worlds

Treblea

Treblea

""

---

---

A music-loving oligarchy of free-spirited people who don't wish to be constrained by anything more than notes on parchment.

Formation: Democratic oligarchy from a bunch of farmers who fled a tyrant's realm.
Population: TBD
Currency: Notes (little bronze music notes denoting different amounts per kind of note)
Anthem: Highland Spirit
Demographics:

• Main Cities:
  
  
  • City - Note (the capitol)
  • City - Soprano
  • City - Mezzo
  • City - Alto
  • City - Capriccio
  • City - Castrato
  • City - Etude
  • City - Rococo
• Ethnicity:
  
  
  • Race - Human
  • Race - TBD (depends who their neighbors are and what demographics venture into Treblea most often)
• Language:
  • Language - Common (As they are fairly centrally located, singing would be done in the most predominant language typically.) If there isn't a common language for their region, then it would just be a modified variant of whatever tyrannical empire, kingdom, etc. that the original Treblean farmer founders spoke.
  • Language - Sheet music / Music (instrumental music is their chief language)
• Religion:
  • Religion - Music is the purest expression of the essence of the divine and supernatural.
  • Religion - TBD (from neighbors)
  • Religion - TBD (from neighbors)
• Health: Being that this society would hold some similarities in general hygiene with Woodstock in the real world, the overall health and nutrition on average is decent, but may not win any awards among other nations. It is not uncommon for people to bathe along with their instruments in the name of finding inspiration. This of course works best if the instrument they are bathing with is not damaged by the water. For example, this is a popular tactic among Treblean drummers who find it helps them find new beats if water is in turn 'beating', swishing, or rushing over them.
• Education: Unless it's music, with a small growing community of people devoting themselves to the arts, education is rare here. Parents don't so much teach their kids as let them have free reign. Roughhousing among children is encouraged, even sexual exploration, although the ruling Council of Genre issued one of their few decrees that no one may have children until the age of seventeen years (or until both participants' bodies have reached their full height).

Politics:

• Foreign Relations: Likely allied with the Republic or the dwarves. Would dislike any autocratic or tyrannical orders that attempted to impose their will through sanctions and/or conquering (can't remember the medieval version of the word sanction. Decree doesn't seem quite right. Just "taxes" then?)
• Military: The people of Treblea don't use weapons in the conventional sense as of yet, although that is a major point of contention in the present day Council of Note and Councils of Genre meetings right now. Up to this point, even as technology has begun to evolve little by painstaking little, internal crime and border disputes have been virtually nonexistent. There has been no real governing body for other nations to dispute! The nation wants no trouble from outsiders, but sometimes wishing to be left alone when you are centrally located with goods and services people want, not to mention natural resources and land, that is usually quite improbable.
  
  If ever a Treblean citizen had to defend their homes, it was likely from a wild animal, magical or otherwise, and they did it with various bronze or wooden tools, or just various objects. Sometimes an instrument was used, or even broken over, an animal or crazy person's head. Given peoples' love of music in Treblea, hurting an instrument was akin to cutting off someone's limb. If you used your instrument to hurt another human being, you often times ended up feeling more emotionally hurt than the other person whom you had just tried to physically harm.
  
  Suffice it to say, Treblean military is in a state of basic development to put it gracefully. While they have no organized military, they have a peaceful people who are willing to use their brains and their limbs to defend their homes and peaceful livelihood. Is it a utopia? Not exactly. Does music serve as a way to communicate, not only promoting but maintaining unity? Absolutely!

Geography: Mostly grassy plains surrounding a natural, almost-perfectly round circle of seven rolling hills. In the large, seven mile wide depression in the epicenter of the seven hills lays their sprawling capital city of Note. The citizens enthusiastically refer to themselves as Noteans, and as such their currency came to be known as Notes and distributed throughout the nation as it grew. All Trebleans at least aspire to make a pilgrimage to Note once in their life from their home villages on one of the seven outlying hills. Each of the seven rolling hills are named, and they are about two to three miles in diameter. A dense forest surrounds the entirety of the seven hills and all that's in between. The folks in the center of Note rely on the Trebleans living in the outlying villages for lumber, which the Trebleans naturally also find a way to do musically.

• Land Mass -
• Terrain - Flat grassy plains, gently rolling hills that stretch for miles (also usually grassy, flowery, etc.), and surrounded by forests. Animal population is most densely located in the surrounding forests, but herbivores are relatively plentiful out on the prairies. There are two lakes, one large and one small, between Note and the outlying hills, and each lake is roughly opposite the other. The larger lake looks a bit like a shoe or a boot, and the citizens call it Lake Grazioso for its graceful waves and mild weather. The smaller lake is known fondly by fishermen as Lake Capriccio, a small, spirited body of water known to be home to several species of equally spirited, not to mention noisy, avian creatures (a.k.a birds).
• Climate - Temperate

Currency Symbols: Musical notes made of copper/bronze that are shaped like a Whole Note, Half Note, Quarter Note, Eighth Note, and Sixteenth Note respectively. The more intricate the design (the more notations) means the more that piece of currency, or Note, is worth (since it would have taken longer to forge and just looks more intricate).

Animals: Mostly herbivores, birds, and a multitude of insects. There are some carnivores and potentially magic creatures in the surrounding forests on their circular border. As a nation, Treblea might very well be mostly landlocked (GM's discretion).

---

Signature

*Things the country is known for
Resource: Musical instruments
Resource: Works of art/commissions for same
Resource: Wheat and sorghum (harvesting with scythes is a form of music AND art AND sport to Trebleans)
Resource: Lumber (need wood to make some instruments)
Resource: Copper (for their currency as well as some tools).

---

Government (cont'd)

Type: Democratic oligarchy (Note and each of the seven villages is divided by loose agreement into musical genres that serve them as districts of a sort. Each genre in each village elects their own representatives (Note included), and they form the equivalent of a city council. In turn, that city council, which they call a Council of Genres, elects a representative from them - although sometimes it has been a random citizen from a random genre of qualifying age so as to break a deadlock tie - represents their entire village (or Note) at the big council meeting that comes together in times of great need in Note itself to represent every village and Note itself as a united nation of music lovers.

Council of Note Leaders: Rax Coalstonn, Rex Tungsten, Lyrnia Tangstven, Svelte Langstven, Bridley Longstonn (male), Jaykob Lungstren, Alixia Garstven, and Yorny Galstven.

Naming Conventions: The last names of men typically end in -tonn or -tren while female names traditionally end in -stven or -tven.

Current Goal(s): To share their collective love of music with the world. To provide a place of refuge for those who love music and love their freedom. They are viewed like lambs in the eyes of predator countries looking to conquer it. Treblea has the misfortune of being centrally located, with multiple nations able to fabricate de jure claims against it.

As such, the "open nation" of Treblea desperately seeks to keep their freedom from tyranny while also r maiming protected against foreign invaders who see their little circular nation as a pie of resources ready for slicing.

Also, while Treblea's few mines produce ample bronze from their copper (hi hi, hi hi, it's off to work they go!), their country lacks iron or any alloys stronger than copper. This makes them dependent on trade if they want to make even simple advances in tech that enhances lifestyle (such as ovens, pots and pans, anvils, or better instrument frames.

Attitude Toward Magic: Magic near Treblea is mostly concentrated in the forests surrounding the outlying village/towns. Rumors and whispers of fantastical beasts grow with each passing day. Many a citizen is content to pay wise heed to these rumors and stay ensconced with their instruments and tools alike, whiling away the day in pursuit of musical and artistic pleasure. There are a select few people born with the wanderlust, however, and those people typically venture out into the forest as soon as they come of age to do so, sometimes earlier; although the earlier they leave, the less chance they have of surviving the presumably dangerous forest ring to see whatever lies beyond. To some in the outlying seven villages, it's almost a rite of passage marking someone as either incredibly bold and brave, or dumber than a bag of keytar picks.

Most Trebleans cannot use magic in the traditional sense. Their magic shines through in their music and works of art. It is said of outsiders who attend Treblean music festivals and concerts that the music makes the air alive, sometimes it even shimmers and/or does things to peoples' souls on an individual basis. Works of art sold or gifted by Treblean artists, sculptors, and the like are sometimes said to have strange, otherworldly properties. Whether or not these properties were an intention of their creator remains unclear thus far.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
As the nation is visited more by outsiders, magic may be practiced more often within its borders, lending itself to more and more arcane mysteries and the like!

Brief History:

Treblea was born from several honest farming folk who had frankly had enough of a tyrannical ruler. They got fed up enough to mount an escape, stole what provisions they could, including a mule-driven wagon (unfortunately driven by two mules of the same gender), and trekked across the land until finally they happened upon the miles wide depression between the seven hills. Declaring this to be a reasonably protected site, far from their old home, they set up shop - so to speak - on the very arable land that grew beneath their feet. Soon, more and more people fleeing the tyrant's lands, or others altogether, ended up there and the farms gradually got pushed further and further outwards to make room for the burgeoning clump of shacks and hovels that would eventually sprawl over into the more noteworthy capitol of Note.

Being that they came from a system of government that was extremely strict, and even had completely outlawed music, the people of Treblea decided to make music a focal point of their daily lives just to spite their old ruler. It turned out that this fad caught on, and was even lovingly embraced by their descendants. Pretty soon the old ruler was completely forgotten and an entire culture was born, led by a council system so complex that it actually turned out to be straightforward and simplistic.

Someone's brilliant idea to make seven different villages, one for each hill, to stand like sentries over the surrounding forests was met with approval, and the rambling, growing mass of Note quickly dispersed into seven somewhat organized directions to do just that. Their dialect of the most predominantly spoken language took on a musical cadence, as they essentially all taught themselves how to express themselves with musical instruments (singing caught on at first, died out for a while, then came back with a vengeance in present times). As a result of this musical focus, all of their city/town/villages - Note and even the two lakes included - were given names related to music, sometimes even words they had invented on their own.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Forgotten Lands, The Great Nations

Sorry I bought a desktop computer yesterday and I've been too busy staring at 1080p Youtube videos bug-eyed in shock. I see I missed nothing IC. Good good, I'm just gonna....going to go back to uhh....watching Zachary Levi on a screen as long as my outstretched arm. @_@

(Also, holy cow RPGuild text looks super tiny now! :/ )

Hero Guard - A D&D 5e Adventure

Elya Smallpaw made her way through the large crowd while simultaneously trying to avoid being trampled. Was she annoyed by the hulking orc. or was it a goliath, that backed up and nearly crushed her flat? No, Elya was merely used to being short. Her diminutive stature had not dissuaded her from seeking out any new adventures, however.

The new adventure of the day for her was to investigate this new hero guard selection process. Something about heroes and hordes and fame and glory. This mattered quite little, humor unintended, to Elya....okay it mattered more than she might admit. Sleeping in stables, treetops, and abandoned cellars got old rather quickly. As she made her way through the gathering crowd, Elya thought back to the guard she had asked for directions a short while ago. His expression told her that what she was seeking seemed to be a fairly popular goal, nigh unattainable even. But alas, he had tied a yellow sash around her forearm and told her to look for others with the same sash. She had tried her best to sashay away, a mental joke that she thought outrageously funny even if the guard had not looked amused when she'd unleashed it upon him over her shoulder.

Elya had thought about attempting to change into a beast form in order to try to not have to stand in the crowd entirely, but her nature magic appeared to not be available to her for whatever reason no matter how hard she scrunched up her face in concentration. So it was that she settled for standing in regular boring gnomish form. waiting for something to happen; wondering if she should pull out her flute and attempt to distract the eager waiting crowd with a show tune. Her stand-up routine could always use some practice. The last time she had tried stand-up, a mean black dragonborn had threatened to kick her out the door like a ball. Elya giggled in hindsight at the memory, although she'd been about ready to soil herself back then. Looking down, she remembered the sash on her arm and walked until she found one other person with a yellow sash. Waving in greeting, Elya crossed over to that person trying very hard not to skip. Skipping always seemed to put people off for some reason. Elya wondered why.

Hero Guard - A D&D 5e Adventure

FYI: Pass Without Trace is going to for sure be my next level 2 spell, so feel free to take something else if you haven't already @OtherCasters.

Hero Guard - A D&D 5e Adventure

Elya Smallpaw

Hero Guard - A D&D 5e Adventure

Those who have been accepted may post the links of the CS’s in the CS tab!
[/quote]

That includes mine yet? Also, my picture link is buried in my CS description, but I'll post it here by this evening. Her physical appearance play by is basically Chromie from HotS.