The Harbinger of Ferocity

There Are No Heroes

This topic has two slots still open for any potentially interested parties. Thus far in the game, the original players are about to be introduced to the actual world abroad, meaning it is a solid opportunity to dive in if you are considering it or wish to. Again, the largest requirement and expectation is to be familiar with Third Edition, the rest can be explained later on. If you have questions, send a message.

Sum up your week in roleplaying in just 3 words

Still making progress.

Where are you from?

You would guess correct that I am from the United States, although my lineage is English, German, French, and Norweigan. Unfortunately not familiar to any of those locations outside the United States, I myself never having traveled anywhere I wish to. From what I can say having been on the Roleplayer Guild for a time and the Discord that we have a fair number of Europeans despite what one might initially believe, so I suggest starting there if you are looking for more activity than what you might be experiencing. As a whole, the site seems to be in large of itself from North America, Discord being another beast entirely as mentioned.

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

So much for President Donald Trump starting World War Three via his "infamous" disputes with North Korea and his use of Twitter, among more diplomatic and established lines. Not a small speaking point, even if ever brief. I am not about to hold my breath on the matter, given it is North Korea and they are prone to weasel their way in or out of whatever is beneficial to them, but there goes that talking point for the time being.

Local, Organic, Freerange Superheroes

Douglas Song

Hallow Grounds Coffee

The time it had taken Song to reach the more northern side of the city in the wee hours, post rain no less, was a timely and complicated matter. Not because there were many threats or perils he was to face, but because it was so far out of the usual area he kept himself to. Yet this mission above many others held great importance, if only symbolically in mind and to maintain a series of rituals long established; Song needed more tea. It was not an inexpensive endeavor either, as a man who took only from criminals to pay his bills reasonably had little - petty thugs carried petty cash after all. What complicated it more was that the prize was rare in itself, an import of China. Many novelty shops that had once carried it among their shelves long since ceased, leaving only those more select coffeehouses to have it, if at all.

So while he drifted between the streets, those which seemed to grow livelier by the moment, he recalled in mind the name of the retail that sold the much needed resource. "Hallow Grounds", clever, catchy, strange one would use such a name, perhaps it meant more? In another a day, another life rather, the wayward monk might be able to inquire why they called it such a thing. At least it was no terribly further north than the college which had gathered a strange storm about it the last night. The lightning, the thunder, most perplexing. To Song, the city seemed to be changing, as if its balance was shifting more than before.

How right he would be without even knowing in slightest, for the moment the man stepped to the shop, door opening with a slight ring of a bell, the newcomer paused as he surveyed the people. Their expressions were confused, perhaps even ever so slightly in shock, others looked about in similar disbelief and equal lack of understanding. Fortunately none of them were burning metaphorical holes into the Asian man in the black long coat with their stares on the chill morning, a relief he much appreciated with a slow exhale. Looking around, from them to where there eyes went, he noted a television playing. The weather? What about it?

Still as the grave he lingered, though there was nothing to be noted. Odd grew worse at that and not wishing to standout too much, the man simply shrugged and guided himself to a rack of import goods the shop held. Hand laid to the tarnished wood finish, he browsed, keeping eyes and ears open while going about his business. The asset must be here, somewhere...

@Metronome

Local, Organic, Freerange Superheroes

I haven't an issue with it myself, @Metronome. Plenty to do even yet, I imagine others who are doing collaborative posts can tie them in up to there. Last it were, it was some time around three in the morning, so three hours is plenty of time in the story.

Dungeons and Derps - The D&D Experience

Time again for another wondrous story of players gone afoul in a situation where the stakes for failure could well be life and death, once more borrowed the urban supernatural setting. This particular one is born of the reality that some players, many, all too often forget their abilities or how they function, as well as their mission objective. Mind you, the latter's few rules consisted of, in this case at least, bringing the least amount of attention to one's self as possible, while the former is simply absentmindedness and the power of legitimate autism, namely its obsessive component.

The aforementioned psion in my other stories was indeed autistic and his favorite thing was in Dungeons and Dragons the system of psionics, the powers of the mind. However, he was not so interested in the mind-bending components, no, he loved the idea of being able to just think things into reality, namely elemental forces. He did not want to be a sorcerer, much too introverted for that and disliked magic as a whole, but powers of the brain? Any and every excuse in game to telekinetically move things, spontaneously combust things, flash freeze enemies, create storms of pure electrical energy among others. So we entertained his eccentrics and he was certainly one of the best players we had, memorizing just about everything in the game but suffering with deciding what he would do each turn - the "short" turns of his were five minutes long at times.

So he, the two rangers, and the occultist ventured into a drug den that had become the lair of "crazies", sent there by their mysterious benefactor to put down whatever unnatural threats were arising. The most important part of all of this? The building was a cluttered mess and a fire hazard. After encountering the first slavering lunatic, who died only to a hail of panicked gunfire over the course of a few turns and beat the pointman senseless, the party was nervous. Nothing but rooms and doors ahead of them, some old apartment building gone awry. They could hear their almost zombified foes above, screaming, yelling, flailing, but had discovered they fell silent whenever they discovered their prey.

The cleared all the rooms, tediously, and shot anything that wasn't them copiously, all while trying to find the source and working up. Soon they came to the stairwell, the dreaded, dreaded stairwell, which they wished not to fight upon, lest they be knocked down them and swarmed, but they had nowhere to go but up - the crazies unaware of how to open the door and reach them, too addled in the brain. So they were forced to stage, for one reason or another deciding to set the psion up there to spring the trap while the rest of them waited down below, guns at the ready, hoping he would open the door, attract them, sprint down and run into an open room while they would unload upon the madmen with a barrage of rifles and shotguns when they chased him.

Solid plan one might think, but the psion had decided to attract the attention of the crazies in a way they hadn't expected and he had forgot about.

As soon as he flung the door open and saw one of several meandering the hall, his mind reached out and manifest a massive detonation. Not of utter cold or crackling electricity, not even acid or a blast of sonic vibration, no, he chose fire. Because of course fire would do the most damage and that was his role as a damage dealing class, so it would surely get their attention and do the most harm, making them easier to kill, no? No less it had escaped him the exact details of his powers not including the line that they do not set things aflame. His pyrokinetic power unleashed, all of the crazies immediately combust and were ignited... along with the building. But things did not end there, oh no. Maddened by alchemical concoction and gibbering mad, the lunatics frenzied like barbarians. Some sprinted into rooms, others charged him, some screamed and thrashed, but their burning bodies soon ignited the floor they were on.

The party downstairs, hearing the madness up and above and the psion running desperately to them wondered, wisely, what in the devil had happened up there. What did he do? When the old, rickety fire sprinklers and alarm came on, they soon realized all hell had broken lose, especially as the psion ran down the stairs and to safety, a few flaming bodies after him - one falling down the railing and smashing twenty or so feet into the concrete before peeling himself off. The cacophony of gunfire erupted as planned, but they worried and for good reason.

Not because the building was a neck and neck battle between small, starting fires and the sprinkler systems, but because of two things. If a crazy leapt out the window and began running amok would it spread? Mind you they had no idea yet what caused the near zombie-like attitude and madness, rabidness almost, but another, certain danger was the fire alarm would reach the authorities and they would be here in minutes, bad side of town or not.

Needless to say they hustled and soon opted for the worst; they burnt the entire building down to destroy all the evidence, losing nearly all the loot in the process and never quite answering what happened there, though an explosion in a part of it would come back to inform them another day on a separate mission.

D&D 5e - Hoard of the Dragon Queen

Yes, either in-character or out-of-character sorting all the details out is essential. I would suggest to make them here for expediency's sake then simply progress where appropriate from there in one single post, so that we are not left to wait... or at least not as long as we often have been when it comes to these types of stalls.

Ask the Person Below You a Question

My favorite fantasy species? I suppose if I had to choose any and out of them all, even the tenants of supernatural in reality, that would have to be spirit beasts. While more or less animal ghosts they tend to be more exotic and more fantastic than their human counterparts, good and evil souls alike, most being neutral or at least in different. I have always been fond of the natural themes of some fantasy and magical practices, both fictional and real alike, but I find it more fascinating to consistently encounter them where they do arise and find myself wishing for more. They make for interesting phenomena and something close enough to home to understand or appreciate. Many of their supposed talents are wonderfully flavored as well, being bodies and ethers of rolling, shaped mists that come and go, blink between forests and wilderness, or stalking shadows that drift and disperse at moment's notice.

There is plenty of inspiration form reality for them, mostly ancient or what we now view as "primitive" practices, but these totems, dream constructs, or animist spirits are always sort of universal in their own way. Fantasy tends to spin them in wonderful directions as that or from it, but out of them I admit I know no one series or universe that makes extensive use of them. I suppose Dungeons and Dragons is a great example, as is some Warcraft incarnations, but one-off pieces tend to catch my attention. Always better when I hear of them appearing elsewhere too, apparently Fallen London has some cat spirits that manifest as tigers in the real world; really a fascinating detail that goes back into how many of these things are portrayed throughout time.

The other component I enjoy about them is that it gives animals personality, not that they lack any, but in fantasy they tend to have a voice and varied presence from bombastic to humble. A hare totem might be silent and flitting about, then off the next moment until it vanishes into a rolling fog, while an eagle might be accompanied with a clap of thunder and like a bolt of lightning. Most even speak, at least the powerful sorts do. Imagery as this tends to be what evokes the best incarnation of it, at least for me.

Speaking to a personal level, they are some of the most fantastic things and I always seek out there themes wherever I can find them.

On a similar note, of all genres, horror, fantasy, science fiction, steampunk, whatever you wish, what genre garners your attention the best and holds it?

D&D 5e -- The Lost Children

That may be sooner than you think, @Bartimaeus. Not to say anyone is about to disappear, but I do hope you stay with the topic and keep an eye on it. Thank you for the interest all the same! A lively game is the best game.