Rhymer

Time's a Changing - a Steampunk NRP set in a Psuedo-Earth

Anyone done a Pseudo-Japan yet? Thinking of a traditional society trying to modernize rapidly. Also, how fantastical is this setting? Would a science department that tests subjects exposure to blue coal fit the setting? I don't know how 'magical' your aiming for this thing to be-I was thinking FF6-ish style...

Abandon All Hope: An Old-fashioned Dungeon Crawl.

Maybe something up tonight. Probably tomorrow tho..

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Added stuff....

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Name: Stitch Vittle
Race: Leechkin
Inventory: Worn travelors clothes, satchel with a few odd trinkets, a jagged glass knife, Lamprey food, haemolymph pills, jug of water
Powers: Besides being haemotophagus, Stitch is particularly good at stealth and hiding.
Appearance: Stitch is a jawless Leechkin, meaning instead of a mouth, he has a sucker that protrudes from his torso. This is how he feeds. Otherwise he appears as a dark, slick skinned humanoid with boyish features. (and no mouth) His eyes are clear, without pupil or iris.
Background:
Stitch fancied himself a Hag-man. A real Barons Boy; a hired killer. But the thin and gaunt Leechboy was ridiculed by the real mercenaries. Grimjaw once stuffed him in a box bound for disposal in the Tallow Lands-much to Stitchs' chagrin. But Stitch found his way back to Phaetas and resumed his lechery for killer-work. A Baron, Son of Brodd hired him to strangle a prostitute who owed him money in the Mourning Quarter. The Leechkin neophyte made it all the way to the gates before fear overtook him, and he fled the city. Brodd didn't even bother to come collect his payment.
Recent Travels: The boy wandered the Greater Blight for a few months, making a haphazard attempt at excavating trinkets from the wasteland. Weary and tired he finally fell in with a caravan who needed a boy to feed the Lampreys they were transporting to New Blightsburg. Ater the Lampreys escaped one night (someone forgot to close the padlock) and devoured the Merchants, Stitch ran off into the wilderness.
Current Location/Profession: Stitch is alone in the Wilderness looking for New Blightsburg

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Writing something up for this :)

@Kalas

Yep, just PM me with your stuff first!

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Name: Progeny Bolt
Race: Automata
Inventory: Tool satchel, wrench, keys, screwdriver etc.
Powers: Highly adaptable. Mechanically saavy. Immense strength. Knowledge of basic technomancy (building other automata, gearwork and general tinkering)
Appearance: A humanoid model, assembled from verdigris caked parts. Innards are exposed, revealing a working human heart, lungs and intestines in a brass and steel skeleton. Bolts head is round, polished brass, with empty eyeholes and a mouth. He speaks in deep raspy voice, and prefers instead to print statements from a slot in his chest. He rarely wears human clothing, prefering to appear as he was created.
Background: Bolt is unsure of his origins, although his design is reminiscient of the technomancers of Old Ygal. His frame was salvaged in Phaetas, and organs installed in New Blightsburg by a Leechfolk Thaumaturge.
Recent Travels: Progeny Bolt spent the last few years as an engineer for Chimaera Rail & Fuel, only recently discharged due to a quarrel with some Grub-folk. Bolt ended up in New Blightsburg looking for more permanent work.
Current Location/Profession: Progeny Bolt is lodged at Skinflint Jacks in Greater New Blightsburg. He has been appraising salvage by appointment for the past few months, but work is beginning to dry up.

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Keeping a eye on this, may not have the time however.

@duck55223

Cool. Your welcome to just do a write up for a character/faction/race!

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Name: Carnifex
Race: Graveborn,Geist
Inventory: Two Old Revolvers, Bullets, Leather Belt, Travelers clothes, Wide brimmed hat and cloak, Matches, Gas Lantern (called a bullseye)
Appearance: The most recent host of Carnifex was from the Skin Warrens, in Scaablin, and as such is a tall, lithe and dark skinned human. He bears the scars of the Rouge Witches Curse and a slight limp. His skin hangs in tatters from the witches curse. Carnifex is dressed in a black leather tunic, black pants and a bloodstained black cloak, from which protrudes a third arm, a typical augmentation of a gunfighter. He wears a wide brimmed hat adorned with the bleached bones of a human child.

Powers: Psychic possession. Carnifex can transfer (and must! from time to time) transfer himself into a host body, or risk dispersion into the Greater Astral Plane. Although not a particularly powerful Geist, Carnifex is capable of minor Psychic Powers, hearing thoughts and suggesting ideas to other creatures.
Carnifex is also an extremely talented gunfighter, having possessed dozens of fighters over the decades.

Background: Carnifex is a relatively new Geist, only 130 years old or so. His Psyche was melded from a Prince of Lost Ygal and the flayed priests of the White Mausoleum. Carnifex was trapped for the first 38 years of his colloid phase in pools of collecting blood in the ruins of the mausoleum. This angered him to no end. During the Scavenger Years, Baron Bartholomew Brodd excavated the Mausoleum and unknowingly released Carnifex who immediately found a corporeal host. He fought for Baron Brodd in his Witch Wars on the Frontier until Brodd was killed and his corpse dried and hung from Sister Hecates Tower. Carnifex escaped to the coast and worked the Lamprey Fields, where he passed through a dozen hosts in quick succession. (Lamprey work is hard...)

Recent Travels: He spent a few years in New Blightsburg before heading south to the Skin Warrens. He heard rumor of a powerful Hellgeist gathering disciples and claiming to have killed the last Prince of Ygal-Who may have provided the dying scream for Carnifexs' manifestation. (Geists psyches are materializations of horrible deaths)
But on the way his host body died, leaving him stranded in the Greater Blight. A passing caravan provided him with a new and current host, the man from Skin Warrens.

Current Location/Profession: Carnifex is camped outside New Blightsburg near Pacifists Ridge, plotting his expedition to the Skin Warrens. He is unemployed but would take work as a hired gun/bodyguard/hitman.

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VILE OOC/IC Thread

Vile

It is a Vile land, a rune-pocked and marred wasteland, a sun-beaten, weather bashed and often bloodied disgusting place. This carrion-world will be consumed by its inhabitants and born anew in chaotic and vile ways....

Long ago the aberrant star-gods emerged from the twilight and slithered onto the hardpan of the earth. The horrors spattered offspring onto its dry, craggy surface in a miasma of ecstasy. Their seed, the black ooze slipped beneath the ground and gestated. This was the beginning...

-The Book of Vile Memory, First Gleaning, lines 15-17;23-26

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Vignette

The horror poked a slimy appendage from the crevice startling the man on the horse. A black hook on the end of a bristly spear-like arm. Diodes and gears whirred and whizzed, encrusted into the flesh. The rider gawked and said nothing as seven more legs appeared, followed by a great hairy black mass of fangs and eyes. The head was augmented too-wires popped and sizzled along the horrors mechanic carapace...

Then it spoke.

"Give me the horse human, I am hungry and you are alone," it said in a coarse, trite voice. The words were fuzzy and analog, as if recorded centuries ago..

The man considered the horror. He knew they lived up here in the high wintry passes, had seen them in ancient charcoal sketches on cavern walls; heard Momma Nelly talk about them in a story or two. But the thing was beyond imagining, beyond a few spoken words in a dingy saloon. It was horror incarnate. But it was wrong about one thing-the man was armed.

The spider lunged and the horse bucked the man back. But the spell was already in his mind-the words spinning from his lips in no more than a whisper...

Blue flame crept from the mans fingers, even as he slammed into the ground, bolts of eldritch fire rifled across the air. The spider halted the assault on the horse as the spell struck it in the cephalothorax, right behind the eyes. Springs and gears flew from it's head all covered in green ichor.

The horse was screaming, kicking and spinning in the dirt road, foaming green death from curled lips. Two fang marks bled freely from its neck. It lay still suddenly.

The blue fire of the spell dissipated. The horror hissed and retreated further, but not before it stuck one long leg into the horses ribs and dragged it along with it, shimming its hairy black mass into the hole.

"Now you owe me a horse, monster," said the man wiping the dirt from his long black leather coat.

The spider crept further into the cave it had emerged from. "Come into the dark sorcerer," it said in a raspy voice. "See what I have for you down here."

"I am afeared of no dark, monster," said the man stalking towards it. Two pistols emerged from holsters, charged with eldritch flame. He ran after the son-of-a-bitch firing blue bolts of death...

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Introduction

Welcome to Vile, a faction game set in a world of eldritch power fused with mechanical horrors and vaguely on the same tech level as the american old west. Vampire land barons broker power with demons. Undead industrialists coax oil from the desert waste. Settlers mingle with mutants and clockwork automatons. The great rails carry mercenaries and sorcerers to the far reaches of the frontier. Zombie gunslingers collect bounties for Carrion Wurm overlords. Shadow cultists spill innards onto ancient mausoleum floors...technology and eldritch sorcery mix, mingle,collaborate. Necromancy, palmistry, bio-meddling, grafting, hexing, witchcraft, steam, gas and electricity are all sources of power. Adventurers explore vast subterranean caverns, sucken continents, ghostly ruins, mountains of bones. Species thrive and die, fortunes amass and fade, religions prosper and offend. Calamity. Rot. Disease. Good Luck!

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Themes and Tone

• The Grotesque is the mundane. Sacrifice. Mutilation.
• Magic and Technology are nearly indistinguishable. Most sources of power are largely misunderstood. Old knowledge (even if it is technology) is often viewed as eldritch power. Necromancy, palmistry, bio-meddling, grafting, hexing, witchcraft, steam, gas and electric power all coexist, mingle and mix..
• The Dead Are People Too. Vampiric industrialists, Revenant oil-barons, horrors from the far realm-all part of society. Zombies make for great workers...they don't sleep or complain...
• The World is Old. Long ago cosmic horrors colonized this planet, changed it and corrupted the very order of nature. A millenia of darkness has resulted in a world rotting from the inside...Many denizens still worship the Great Old Ones.

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Guidelines

• Be cool. No arguments needed (or wanted).
• Stick with the themes and tone of VILE. This is really important..
• PM me or any co-GMS char/faction/race sheets before posting. We can help edit and write if you need help.
• Quality posts. I put a lot of thought into what I'm posting, everyone should do the same. 2-3 paragraphs MINIMUM for IC posts.
• If you make a faction/race expect other players to use them as well. This is a co-op worldbuilding game as well as a traditional RP.

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VILE OOC/IC Thread

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Also, the fuck is an Omglfs?

@greywolf375

Mostly a placeholder. Like I said, feel free to write anything.