Peik

Rotten Spokes of the Unlawful Wheel

Might play as a Kashmiri refugee with an artificial shin. Would leftist/people's-whatever factions exist in Sopahn?

@BingTheWing

There's hacktivists and some other leftist factions. You could create one for your backstory if you'd want.

Rotten Spokes of the Unlawful Wheel

The breadth of choice available for characters is pretty big. How do you plan on encouraging interaction between characters and their respective players in the RP, since it's quite easy to create characters that would have a hard time ever getting contact with one another? Should players bounce concepts between each other and try to build a sort of consensus or do we just make whatever and wing it, hoping it'll be fun?

@Ashgan

NPCs, and outcomes to the missions that groups of players wish to do (players could possibly hire/work with each other for missions, although obviously that would be easier for people in a similar social class). It's meant to be somewhat like a NRP in the way it plays out - everyone has their own character's, or group's agency in mind, but there will be an ongoing plot and if the players do not prepare for it and/or try to work together for it, things will probably take a turn for the worse for a lot of people.

Rotten Spokes of the Unlawful Wheel

Tentatively interested. I appreciate the amount of work that's gone into creating the setting and the world but it has been a very long time since I've roleplayed in a setting resembling modern society/civilization. I've got the itch to try, though. Might need a lot of assistance.

@Hank

Well, it's a foreign country with widely changing and contrasting values between different societies and different classes within it, and it's 2060, so I'm sure you can find something. In this setting a bearded Sikh with a huge turban wouldn't look that out of place next to the foreign pageant model who's replaced her legs with silicone to be taller and removed a couple of ribs.

Okay, maybe it'd look out of place, but it'd be a natural contrast - you can see its anticipations in real life, with pictures like these.

Is this a cyberpunk setting, or more of a gritty sci Fi? I wasn't able to grasp the precision as such from the Intchk

@Mercenary Lord

I'd say cyberpunk, since the constantly changing and developing world, the growing gaps between parts of society, privacy and politics are playing a big part in it.

Rotten Spokes of the Unlawful Wheel

1. Why dice-rolls for the resolution of scenarios, especially if you wanted to keep the RP/creativity above a certain level anyway, and only the RPers can *really* define the layout and execution of a scenario?

@Virgil

It's mostly there to have an judge of action on crucial maneuvers and add a feeling of suspense and actual risk that can shape the players' courses of action accordingly, in addition to @Gcold's explanation.

So let's say you wanted to make a robbery, it doesn't limit how you want to do it (sneak in, or shoot everyone, or go Mission Impossible ceiling drop) - you can go for it, the roll simply sees to your amount of success at defining moments (you grab what you want/you grab stuff but don't get everything/you get seen but manage to escape/you get captured).

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

I'm in the middle of a PokeCrisis - I'm finally playing Pokemon Y and I've already got almost all of my team, but I keep learning about the Gen VI Pokemon and it's so hard to pick the last slot.

So currently the team is:

Axew
Lucario
Quilladin
Fletchinder
Wartortle
Kirlia

But I want the Onix I caught, or a Rhyhorn, and I really like the fossil Pokemon (but I'm even having difficulty deciding between the two, though I think I prefer the Ice one, and also Aerodactyl later in the game)... Plus I'm still super early in the game, so there's a butt-ton more to go and I have no idea how to decide what I want in my party. This is the first time I've had this problem in any Pokemon game. Oh, also, I'll probably want an Eevee... Though I might have to say no for just one game on that.

@Scout

?

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

Sunrise, Sun's Height 26
Dawnstar

---

Despite the preparations made for the briefing, the Steelhead deck was nonetheless busy with shipmates carrying around barrels, crates, lengths of rope, nails and rivets. A group of carpenters and shipmates were too busy fixing nails on planks and trying to fit in rivets into the brass plates of the ballista affixed upon the planks towards the front part of the deck, by the bowsprit, a precaution taken by the mercenary company in case of any further naval surprises, akin to the ships they had faced after Bthamz. With the ship having practically no list atop the calm waters of the port, the job was not very hard, although the main problem was making sure the operation of the machine did not interfere with the rigging, and constant swearing could be heard from the ever-disagreeing boatswain.

Of course, this was not the mercenaries' problem - it was the sailors'. The mercenaries themselves were too busy getting debriefed on the quarter deck. Ashav had ordered every single one of them to come to the ship fully prepared and finished with whatever they were doing ashore, and now here he was, glancing over each every one of them as a quick 'review', and to gather his thoughts, before the next mission. Ariane, Dumhuvud and Hargjorn stood beside them, while the ship captain, recently ‘promoted’ from first mate to the position thanks to the Thane's assassination, had leaned himself against the railing in front of the boat wheel. He did not seem all that enthused about the fact that all these non-sailors had taken his deck to prepare their briefing.

After visually confirming that every mercenary on the job roster was on deck, Ashav cleared his throat with a cough, and then began to speak.

''While most of you probably haven't had enjoyable experiences with ships recently, unfortunately this next mission of ours is going to be quite a trip. We're headed for Bleakrock Isle, which really doesn't offer much aside from being an excellent location for an outpost, from what I've understood. We have received intelligence that the Island has been overtaken by the Dunmer, who are using it as a base for their naval attacks, possibly where the ships that struck near Bthamz came from. I'm sure most of you would appreciate some vengeance for our losses.''

His gaze drifted over Niernen as he spoke those words - while he hadn't planned to refer especially to the loss of her friend, he found the coincidence convenient. She wasn't the most psychologically stalwart of the group, but it never hurt to fan the flames a just a little.

''Now, we expect their defenses to be strongest near the dock by the south, so the ship will have to make a detour and drop you folks by the northern coast of the island. You will have to make your way to the docks from there by land. Dumhuvud will lead you upon landing,'' he said, pointing at the Nord with a half extended arm.

He coughed and took a deep breath. Veterans of the Reach raid could tell that his voice carried less determination and strength, compared to back then. Every single one of them had been battered somewhat over time. Ashav's face was a bruised mess, and Dumhuvud had gotten a promotion from a dumb fuck to an ugly dumb fuck after his scarring; even Ariane seemed rather unkempt in comparison to her previous appearances, and the sight of the Dwemer staff in her hand, once Keegan's possession, could be said to debase her even further with less scholarly and noble elements such as 'loot'.

''Remember - this mission relies on the element of surprise. Stealth and swiftness is key, and you don't have much time to dawdle around. We've received information that there are about three outposts on the island, not counting the dock, so stick to the plan. Depending on how landing goes, you may have to lead a distraction attack on one of the three to overextend and weaken enemy presence. If you have any questions, I'm sure Dumhuvud will be glad to answer them.''

He threw his hand back dismissively after a moment. ''Dismissed. The ship will leave dock in a few minutes, best prepare your bunks.''

With that, the briefing was over.

---

Afternoon, Sun's Height 29
Sea of Ghosts

---

The trip to Bleakrock Isle had thankfully been rather uneventful, save the successful ballista testing and the brief moment of celebration that came after it launched its harpoon without problem. The seas were almost foreboding in their calm, and the skies had been mostly free of clouds. If one could forget the context, one could even enjoy the scenery of the Sea of Ghosts, the waves, the occasional whale sighting, and the horrifyingly human squeaks of curious belugas following the ship. Sadly, no narwhals had been sighted, but at the very least no corpses from Windhelm were mistaken for narwhals either, so for Sadri it wasn’t that bad.

There weren't many opportunities to pass the time on deck, although one crafty sailor had brought a couple of board and card games on board, and mercenaries could possibly try their chances against one other, or against the sailors. Trying to stay away from gambling and its possible misfortunes, Sadri spent most of his time letting Mora numb and feed off by his temple, chewing on a piece of leather to fight his sugar tooth urge, or practicing his tying skills as to not stay idle. The fact that he hadn't forgotten all of those quick knot techniques was somewhat of a relief.

He was not particularly happy with how things were going. On board, he had been staying away from the bottle, afraid of getting caught drunk in another boarding action, but so far this precaution had brought him nothing but longer lapses of awareness, which was most of the time an unfavorable thing for him. Not to mention Niernen's brother - considering his thoughts on loyalty, Sadri was not exactly unafraid of the mer changing his mind in the midst of a standoff and turn his wicked black blade on him instead. Even in a pitched, even battle, he was pretty sure that he did not have much of a chance against a well-trained and capable Redoran noble. The thought of such a possibility was not very elating. Perhaps it would do him well to keep some distance between him and the Redoran; an acquaintance getting backstabbed was bad, but not as bad as getting backstabbed himself.

On a more positive note, he wasn’t the only cripple in the group, not anymore. He hadn’t met the new arrival, in fact he hadn’t even spoken to her in any sense of the word, but he had noticed her arm still. A strange twist of fate, he thought, but it wasn’t like this line of work let you stay unscarred for long, although he wasn’t sure if the severity of the wound indicated to her prowess, or her lack of it. Then again, one could have, and some indeed had, the same doubts about him, and he’d proven them wrong. She could do the same. He decided to shake off the thought in a moment of empathy.

He found himself falling into contemplation again, and contemplation was a horrible thing. He untied the soft shackle in his hand and began work on a monkey's fist, while the ship listed from one side to another in a nauseating rhythm as it made its way atop the waves.

---

Night, Sun's Height 29
Bleakrock Isle

---

The calm boredom of the trip would reach an end upon the sighting of the isle by sunset of the third day. Fortunately for the ship, they had not been spotted, although admittedly they were at a distance that was reported to be completely out of range. The ship moved further with cover of foggy weather, with all the possible sources of light extinguished, and anything reflective covered with cloth - the captain did not want to lose his newly gained ship to an amateur mistake. The Steelhead eventually managed to lose sight of the port by moving more towards the port side, and before anyone could realize that they had been there, they had already begun circling around the isle.

While taking the scenic route and going around the island with the aid of a silent, soft gust and careful, silent movement on board, it was agreed to send the raiding party by boat to free the Steelhead of having the responsibility of anchoring and waiting for them, and to keep it safe from the risk of being caught anchored by possible patrols. Sadri, as always, was not very enthusiastic, nor optimistic, and thus had sat close to the stern of the boat as to avoid any projectiles that could greet their beach landing. Against his expectations, however, the night landing went without any fuss, and the boat disappeared again into the night as quickly as it had appeared to drop the party.

''Right, gather up!'' Dumhuvud spoke after the last mercenary landed, and then began his very own briefing. ''As the man said before we set off, we need to be quick and clean. Get it? Quick and clean. These knife-ear shits don't know that we're here, so if any of you pricks slip up, get caught and ruin that for me, I sure as Oblivion won't be lifting a damned hair to help you, and neither will anyone else. That's an order,'' he growled, eyes fixed on Sevine and Do'Karth towards the end of his sentence. He would not tolerate romantic heroics ruining everything in the midst of such a crucial mission.

''Beleth, tin can, you two lead the way,'' he blurted out in a scathing tone as he affixed his helmet atop his head and gestured at Sadri and Narzul. He didn't want the two to stay out of his sight, and plus, keeping them at the front meant that they were the most likely to take the brunt of any possible misfortune.

Sadri cursed his fate silently as he rolled his eyes over to Narzul and beckoned him along with a gesture of his eyebrows.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

@Spoopy Scary

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

The Bleakrock Mission introduction, I believe, shall be up in about two to three days. Going on vacation and helping a friend of my mother's move into her new house. Apologies for the delay.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

Well, I went for the 'certain geographical location' clause in the prompt, but I'm not sure if I managed to do it right. Wanted to write it in essay form but failed, changed it into the usual.

Larendil's Brawler

‘’Are you absolutely sure that you want to speak to the mer, sir? Moriche are no more than gritty, miserable ignoramuses. Especially this one, we've already interrogated him.’’

‘’You know very well that it is in the Dominion’s interests to learn all we can from our foes. We have an assassin on our hands, do we not? No doubt it was a premeditated attack, given how our foe came out of nowhere and started a barber shop. Of course, those damned Imperials did not expect us to see the connection with this Sadri fellow and the Penitus Oculatus. I am certain a trained assassin such as he would be well versed in resisting torture. This new method developed by Zigmundil Freudhar tells us even more than what they know about themselves!’’

Ganillon raised an eyebrow. What he had heard of the mer was nothing but rumors of his obsession with sexual organs and an alleged addiction to ground-up Moon Sugar snuff, or as its inventors the Bosmer called it, Co-Coinn.

Larendil saw the doubt in Ganillon’s eyes. He wasn’t the only one questioning the efficiency of this method. He knew all too well that was why he was no longer at Alinor, but instead in this damned outpost off Woodhearth. Thankfully his uncles had pulled some strings to give him a position prodigious enough to order these fools around.

‘’Bah, what would a simple warden like you know. Just bring him in,’’ he said to Ganillon with a dismissing gesture. The well-dressed, martial warden left and sighed in annoyance the moment he shut the door, no doubt frustrated about this fifty-year old brat being a superior to decorated veterans of the Great War.

‘’Take the damn Moriche here. Our esteemed superior wishes to see him.’’

---

When the prisoner was first brought in, Larendil wanted to protest, because from what he saw they had brought in a flesh Atronach, or somehow brought in a Bonewalker from Morrowind, so torn up was the arrival’s face and skin. It was only after the shackled individual walked a few steps closer to the light that he managed to make out the pointed ears and red eyes that marked a Dunmer. It seemed that his subordinates had tried to make the man talk through more conventional methods. How base and dreadfully foolish.

‘’Sit down,’’ Larendil commanded. The Dunmer practically threw himself onto the velvet-laden sofa, gasping in pain and a concentrated effort to feel the most he could of the fabric. Compared to the cobblestone floor on which he had been sleeping on for the last few days, this was almost heavenly.

‘’You are Sadri Beleth, correct? My subordinates have long mentioned their inability to get any leads out of you. Even our esteemed Inquisitors have conceded that their magic has failed to find any clues in your feeble brain.’’

Sadri looked at the man, mouth slightly ajar - the last interrogator had dislocated his jaw with a strong kick. With his cataract-laden eye, hunched back and hanging neck, he looked more like a puppet, or a recently reanimated corpse.

‘’Ah, playing hard to get, I see. Don’t worry, I am not here to hurt you. Please, tell me about your childhood.’’

Sadri’s good eye opened wide. ‘’What?’’ He slurred, trying to push back the spit gathering in his mouth with his tongue. It seemed to him that the Thalmor, frustrated with the ineffectiveness of their treatment (Mer such as Sadri often received lighter punishments, thanks to the privilege of their race), had decided to go with a much crueler and bone-chilling torture method – taking the piss with him. Truly there was no method more unpredictable.

‘’Your childhood,’’ the Altmer responded flatly.

Sadri blinked repeatedly. Not wishing to anger his latest interrogator and be forced to leave his latest seating (boy, the sofa was comfortable!), he took a deep, painful breath, and then began speaking after his interrogator inked his quill and gave him the go-ahead with a graceful gesture.

‘’Well, I was born in Bergama about fifty-sixty something years back. I really don’t remember much… I used to wander around with the local kids, play games, didn’t do much. Parents were well-off, they tried to get me educated instead of sending me off to be an apprentice.’’

‘’Interesting, interesting, never thought Dunmer parenting could be anything more than horrid. You weren’t specialized in your education, correct?’’

‘’I guess not?’’

‘’…Lackluster education, half-taught…’’ Larendil muttered to himself, weighing every word in his mouth before scrawling them to the paper in front of him. Sadri would have protested, but he assumed that he did not have the privilege. The Mer interrogating him right now felt like a kid pretending to play doctor with a toy – don’t budge, and he’ll break your limbs. Go with the flow, he’ll leave you, or so Sadri thought.

He thought wrong.

‘’Right. Now close your eyes. When you think ‘Bergama’, what comes to your mind?’’

Sadri was hesitant to close his eyes, expecting that the mer would electrocute him the moment he did so, but the childish naiveté in his voice convinced him, plus, he didn’t have any other choice, he complied.

‘’I, uh, the Old Well.’’

The Old Well was a ruin, overlooking the vast stretch of desert that lay beyond the southern edge of Bergama – some of the older children had come up with a rumor that the Old Well was once a tower, yet a volcano explosion had devoured the old city and left nothing but the tip of its tallest spire, that being the Old Well. Sadri remembered how his grandfather’s face had gone pale when he had asked whether the story was true or not. It had convinced him in his childhood that the story was correct.

‘’And what may this Old Well be?’’

‘’It was a well,’’ Sadri retorted, before hurriedly continuing into a more elaborate answer in fear of repercussions. ‘’Used to be a common spot for kids to play – at night, it was a teenage lovers’ meeting spot. Friend of mine Najad, he used to work as a carpenter’s apprentice back then – we used to make wooden ‘love idols’ for kids to buy, told them if they stashed it under their beds, the girl they loved would love them back. Spent that money on sweets, toys and wooden swords.’’

Larendil rolled his eyes at just how banal the excuse was. The Penitus Oculatus had instilled a quite believable story in this man’s mind – perhaps a sleeper agent? That was why this method was perfect. Picking apart semantics and themes, reactions… to know more about one than one oneself could know, no tool was more powerful.

‘’Hmm, hmm…’’ Larendil mused as he kept writing. ‘’And what comes to mind when you think of this Old Well?’’

Sadri took a breath, unable to sigh, in fear of the possible wrath of his interrogator.

‘’I had a crush of my own, Nevyna. We used to meet there. His father did not like my father, though, we never got together.’’

He felt sullen all of a sudden, not wishing to disclose any more details about his previous love. When he had returned to Bergama with the onset of the Great War, Nevyna’s husband had gone off to war. When news of his death reached the town in 173, Sadri and Nevyna’s relationship had made an attempt to rekindle itself, in what had begun as sincere consolation for a past friend. Unfortunately for Nevyna, her child had never taken a liking to Sadri. It had never taken off.

Here, now, Sadri was in the middle of Buttfuck Nowhere, Valenwood, waiting for his execution, and it was almost as if this new interrogator was his instrument of death, and this new instrument had chosen to take the metaphor of making his life ‘flash before his eyes’ literally. First his childhood, now his teenage years…

‘’And what of Nevyna?’’

‘’What about her?’’ Sadri asked, slightly defensive in tone.

‘’Tell me about her.’’

‘’She was a nice girl.’’

Larendil raised his eyebrows and lowered his head, looking derisively at Sadri.

‘’…Yeah, she was a nice girl. Pale skin for a Dunmer, thoughtful eyes, hooked nose. Dumber than she looked, but she had good intentions.’’

‘’…Mhm, yes, yes. It’s all good now, making itself more and more blatant.’’

‘’What?’’ Sadri asked, confused.

‘’Why, isn’t it obvious? The Well, teenage loves, thoughtful eyes… It all points to your love for your mother. Your focus on women, water and wells, these are all symptoms for desire for the vagina, why, it’s obvious. You want to be your father; you’re envious of him for having your mother. Not to worry, though, it’s all normal. I’ll have a more comprehensive analysis after a full month.’’

‘’A month?’’

‘’Yes, yes, we’ll have to postpone your execution for a month, but it’s all good. Your life may be forfeit, but you’ll leave an excellent psych evaluation behind. No better legacy... I can see it now, Larendil’s Assassin! You’ll be famous, my friend.’’

Sadri spent a moment in pain to spring up his muscles, and threw himself forward with all his strength to land a punch on Larendil’s face. When the Altmer fell off his chair with the impact, Sadri slumped over the table on which he had been writing to jump on the man, but found it impossible to raise his legs high enough to vault over it – pulling himself over the table, he fell on Larendil on his face, thankfully elbow first. He heard a loud crack.

Outside the door, Ganillon watched the debacle from the covered window on the door, smirking.

‘’Shall we intervene, sir?’’ One of the guards asked.

‘’Maybe in a few moments.’’

---

Sadri’s actions earned him a solitary confinement cell, with a mattress to sleep upon and an extra meal. He also got his execution expedited, from a month to two weeks’ time.

Larendil lost his position as the Master Warden of Seven-Roots Dungeon after the eponymous breakout that occurred a week later his failed psychoanalysis session. He wrote a heavily embellished paper on his experiences.

Ganillon was reinstated as Master Warden of Seven-Roots Dungeon after Larendil was expelled. He has since retired and returned to Alinor.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

I try not to cross you too much lest you revive the Ottoman Empire again.

But srsly, Sadri sounds like something you'd hear in the game for Dunmer names, so it's a happy coincidence. ;D

@Dervish

_{the jihad slumbers}

Jokes aside, I wouldn't have gone with the name if it didn't sound Dunmer. Plus we got Sadrith Mora in Vvardenfell, and UESP tells me that Sadrith Mora is 'mushroom forest' in Dunmeris, which would relate Sadri's name with... mushrooms.

could've gone worse tbh