TheRaconteur Posted February 6 Author Clone Share Posted February 6 (edited) Chapter I - Act I: A Shitty Start Sooth Deck: The Cat Effects: None Divination: "One sometimes must act alone to succeed. Curiosity and cleverness can be virtues, but be wary of taking them too far. A challenge may arise that involves both mental and physical dexterity." One of the Spiders instantly fled the blade, retreating further into the leaves and thorns and vanishing from Aldrion's sight. In the brief moment he gave it, it did not return. The other hesitated, quivering, scooting out of sight and then reappearing. It rubbed its front legs together in front of its many-eyed face, nervous agitation evident. It only had a second to make a decision before he turned, and it waited until the bitter end, leaping to the tip of the weapon and scurrying along its underside just as he turned to leave. As he went to sheath the weapon, the arachnid gazed up at him, leaping from the tip of the sword with startling quickness to disappear within the cuff of his bracer. He felt the unsettling sensation of too many legs on her bare skin for only an instant, thoughts of those fangs sinking into pale flesh flashing through his mind, and then the feeling was gone. There was no time to check as he made his way in doors, at least not without alerting the Unkindness to his subterfuge. He just had to walk inside, and hope the image of striking fangs remained purely a construct of the mind and not a burning reality. "Ah, youth." Ma'am said, lost in a memory for a moment at his words. "Never bothered with tea when I was your age either. Sadly, when you get up there in years, coffee can be a bit much." She patted her stomach, smiling at him, and then turned to reach up into her cupboard. There was already a fire going in the kitchen's wood stove, an kettle pouring a thin cloud of steam into the kitchen and fogging up the nearest stained glass window. She withdrew a mismatched pair of earthenware mugs, and a round red tin with a painting of a clock along its side. This she opened, withdrawing a pair of pre-made tea bags, each with a string on the end and a little orange piece of fluttering paper. The objects were evocative of a memory from Shadow, another red tin, another teabag with an orange paper on the end. Those had been branded with words, the writing lost to the fog of that time, whereas these bore tiny inscriptions of the same clock as was found on the front of the tin. "Black, don't let it steep for more than five minutes or it will get too bitter, and not even lemon and honey will fix it. I've... oh!" She had been reaching for a honey jar from the same cabinet, but it slipped through her fingers. She barely even noticed it rolling around before it settled, so intently focused was she on Aldrion's wrist. "Oh Phect you clever boy! Don't move an inch. Hello there dear!" She got down on one knee next to him, staring intently at the cuff of his sleeve, and with the pointer and middle finger of her right hand began tapping out an erratic rhythm. She paused after only a moment, and then tapped out something else, the sound barely perceptible. "Ah, that explains it, no wonder I couldn't remember. I'd thought they'd done something, but it was those bloody birds. They've stolen their Name!" The revelation was interrupted by a knock at the door. Not the door they'd come through, the front door. Ma'am turned slowly, clearly more invested in not spooking the Spider than she was in attending to the door, but she seemed to think better of it after a moment and rose from her crouch. There were two doors on the front of the building, given that it was a carriage house, but it was obvious which one they were supposed to use. There was a small awning and a tiny half step of an entryway for people to use, where as the carriage door just met the cobblestones. As Xanah drew closer to knock, they got a good look at the door they were supposed to use. It was narrow and tall, with nine pieces of stained glass at the top. Well, eight pieces, with a ninth that was clearly missing. Each was representative of one of the Suns, gorgeous work, and given the plethora of stained glass that adorned the front fence likely the Maker's own work. The ninth would be the Invisible Sun then, and she wouldn't be able to see it. She knocked upon the hard wood, and for thirty seconds or so nothing happened. Then the door swung open a good foot, and Ma'am's lupine gaze was staring up at her. As Aldrion had before, Xanah had the distinct impression of dials turning within her amber eyes, but it was a feeling more than a fact. "Xanah, Shuistliel..." Given that they only had one public name, she couldn't indulge in her usual convention. "... you'd best come inside too, considering they're stealing names, and you've only the one each." She ushered them into her living room, calling out towards the kitchen. "You might as well come in here Phect, and bring my tea! I'll fetch two more cups for my newest guests. Water's already boiled, black or green?" Edited February 7 by TheRaconteur (see edit history) Name xDiceName xDiceResult xDiceString xDiceRolls Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Amora Posted February 7 Clone Share Posted February 7 Felicia Ainsworth The Maker offered a demure smile to the retreating raven and a careful wave of her free hand so as to not upset the perch of the injured one that was still stuck with her... and her demons. It wasn't a situation she'd envy given she was a prisoner to their whims as much as they were a prisoner to her body and will when she could manifest it fully... but all that meant was she would have to work quickly and carefully before the demons of the past or demons of the soul could inflict themselves unkindly on the wounded thing. That purpose, all it's own, was catalyzing in a small way as she passed through the doors of her ancestral home and forced it's wretched condition from her mind. It was an endless task to restore the grounds, one that consumed hour upon hour and material without end all while stubbornly giving away nothing of it's mysteries. Something bound the wayward spirits of Ainsworth past here... just as something had obliterated any tail or memory of what had happened to the living. That mystery yawned in the back of her mind like an abyss as she passed from room to decrepit and neglected room before the scenery of desolation began to shift gradually into something... more lived in, more alive, cared for as she grew closer and closer to her the rooms she had claimed as her studio. Well, they had always been her studio if the detritus of a forgotten life was any indication but it was hers again along with the meager sliver of memories that came with it. One of the few things that pierced the choking fog that the Grey had inflicted on her... Or did she accept it? Been dragged back unwantedly from it? That was another uncomfortable question and one that riled the demons within into a cacophony of teasing voices. The strongest of them feeling as though they were clawing at the internals of her ears with a voice like searing, eroding sand masked as no more than a taunting, inviting purr. Almost beckoning cooperation for a little piece of truth from the lips of some ever, destructively, changing helion. She pushed them away with all of her not inconsiderable will once more... Back beyond the walls she had so hastily built. Just a few minutes more, the walls only needed hold for so preciously short a time as the image of the apparatus was firmly entrenched in her mind since she first produced that bar of silver. It only need be made real from that essence of dream and magic so that the Raven could take wing once more and join the descending unkindness. Not that she wanted them to reap bloody murder but maybe it was this one last voice that'd temper black feathered wrath? If nothing else... There was a story to be told. "Now then, safe and sound inside. We can get to work on something for that wing-pain but while I work... Maybe you can tell me what caused all of this mess? It was quiet yesterday... No great war or canvasing campaign to speak of for Raven or Spider." Felicia asked in the croaks and caws of the wounded bird's native tongue, trying to keep her meaning clear and simple as possible to avoid any contextual or linguistic mishap she might run across. All the while, she gently pulled the chair back from her jeweler's table and set out the tools with that same free hand before settling herself in the seat and laying out her other hand and arm upon the well worn but loved surface of the worktable. The silent invitation clear for the Raven to dismount. The same taunting image of the device to come circling in her arm and already perfectly mapped to the comparatively petite frame of the Raven, not that Felicia was any towering giant in the bloodless flesh she currently wore. Character Arcs EstablishmentYou want to prove yourself as someone of importance. This can take many forms—socially, within your order, financially, or even romantically. Cost: The Need for Proof. You pay a cost of 2 Acumen. Opening: Assessment. 1 Acumen reward. You assess yourself as well as who you need to prove yourself to. Step(s): Appearances Matter. 1 Acumen reward. You improve your look. Enhance your wardrobe. Spruce up your house. Whatever it takes to get attention from the right people. There might be many such steps. Step(s): Self-Aggrandizement. 1 Acumen reward. You need to get the word out to get people talking about you. There might be many such steps. Climax: Grabbing Attention. 3 Acumen reward. You do something big, like host a party for influential people or produce a play that you wrote. You make a big splash (1 Joy) or a big crash (1 Despair). Resolution: 1 Acumen reward. You reflect on what you did and where you go from here - Current Step: The Need for Proof Develop a BondYou want to get closer to another character. This might be to make a friend, find a mentor, or establish a contact in a position of power. It might be to turn a friend into a much closer friend. The character might be an NPC or a PC. In the case of an NPC, the end result might be an NPC bond, and in the case of a PC it’s a PC bond. Cost: Putting Yourself Out There. You pay a cost of 2 Acumen. Opening: Getting to Know You. 1 Acumen reward. You learn what you can about the other character. Step: Initial Attempt. 1 Acumen reward. You attempt to make contact. This might involve sending messages or gifts through a courier, using an intermediary, or just going up and saying hello, depending on the situation. Step(s): Building a Relationship. 2 Acumen reward. There might be many such steps as you develop the relationship. Climax: Bond. 3 Acumen reward. You succeed or fail at forging the bond. A successful resolution results in 1 Joy. Failure results in 1 Despair. Resolution: 1 Acumen reward. You enjoy the fruits of your new relationship. - Current Step: Getting to Know You Description Description It's the eyes, really, that most fixate upon first. The hues of crimson and gold spinning, twisting, merging in their depths as they seem to give a clear window into the utter depths of Felicia's mind with their uniquely expressive quality. That there feels to be a thousand, a hundred thousand, pairs of eyes staring back from behind those initial windows to the soul only seems to cement the impression of something troublesome, something worrying to compliment the elfin quality of her sharp features and diminutive frame. That sensation of malice, of gleeful cruelty, welling up from somewhere in those depths even as she comports herself with nothing but cheerful, if stoic, mannerisms and inexhaustible impressions of attention to the minute aesthetics of every gesture, motion, and twist of both herself and the world around her. In matters of garb, she tends to play to the company she plans for with blouses, dresses, and pants of riotous colors among the bohemian communes of Fartown to the carefully coordinated yet still somehow esoteric gowns and suits of high society galas and soirees. Each and every ensemble meticulously planned and coordinated like one of the great works of her brushes. The only break from this carefully crafted aesthetic seems to be her hair, pale and bloodless as her complexion. It's length healthy, glossy, and well tended but cursed with creative differences in how it curls and falls. Despite this, it seems always to blend, practically meld, seamlessly into any trim of fur or feather that might adorn a chosen outfit. Like those glimpses of alien malice and cruelty in the depths of her eyes, there always seems to be a discordant element that shadows her. Whether it be a flicker of something other in the crimson depths of her eyes, the way her shadow seems to twitch and twist without her ever moving, or how her reflection never quite seems to be her... It becomes all too clear that her body and soul might be host to something besides merely the artist... Worse still is the careful and delicate work of brush and needle; whisking away bruises here, deep scratches or cuts there, all damning evidence of struggles with the self. In the Guise of Immanis The energies of the Abyss are, by its very nature, an instrument of the Dark and unkind as a rule to the essential fabric of whatever is and may be. It is only by the tempering elements of the Gold Sun that the taking in of such hostile energies is more than merely an elaborate form of suicide. The raw stresses of this are quite evident then when Madame Ainsworth invokes so terrible a spell. Her already pale skin grows to be a lifeless gray, gaining an unseemly translucence that is easily pierced by even the wane light of Fartown beneath the Indigo Sun. The lines and forms of every bone visible from just the right angles as they shatter, stretch, and mend with an agonizing rapidity to drag her up to a daunting height. Sinew, muscle and tendon all the while snapping, recoiling, and reforming to accommodate this new and predatory bearing. Veins and arteries, in kind, flow with noxious black as the corruptive energies swirl and take root, her eyes draining of that distinct crimson and gold hue leaving only a single prick of light nearly drowned in a sea of impenetrable black. Were that these the extent of the horrors wrought by the invoking of the Eye of Immanis for one can't help but stare as razor-like teeth push aside whatever may block their way, twisting and gnarling the line of gum and tooth to pierce and part the flesh of the cheek revealing a hideous, too broad maw. A likewise change playing out in the hands as bones shatter and twist as tendons and sinew reinforce to accommodate the agonizingly slow-yet-quick emergence of seven inch talons, black as jet, that now adorn each finger tip. This final change marking the ultimate perversion, turning tools of creation to tools of abject and potent destruction. Pools Certes Accuracy: 3/3 Movement: 3/3 Physicality: 2/3 Perception: 4/4 Qualia Sorcery: 6/6 Interaction: 6/6 (+3 from Signature Item) Intellect: 2/3 Sortilege: 1/2 Hidden Knowledge: 10 Injuries: Wounds: Anguish: Rests: 1 round, 1 round, 10 minutes, 1 hour Name xDiceName xDiceResult xDiceString xDiceRolls Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Aavarius Posted February 7 Clone Share Posted February 7 Xanah "Black, just like my soul," Xanah responded automatically and cheerfully to her new hostess. It was a joke she had made many, many times before. It still made her laugh inside. Besides, it was true--the tea preference that is, not necessarily the quality of her spiritual essence. Incidentally, black was also the same way she took her coffee. Speaking of which, she still had her little protected container of caffeinated bliss in one hand. It was cool enough she could make quite a bit more progress on drinking it, which she attempted to do in the moment that Shuistliel filed into the house after her and Ma'am went off fetch the tea. It was a brief moment of refreshment before they got to the business that they were obviously about to conduct. To that end, Xanah noted she and Shuistliel weren't the only people who had come to this house. She didn't really know what Ma'am was going on about when she let them inside, but seeing somebody else made her feel more confident they were at least going in the right direction. "Aldrion, darling," she called, "you must have gotten bitten by the same curiosity bug that we did. You've met my colleague, Liel, I pray?" Character Arcs Join an Organization As an arachnophile, I'm being groomed to join the Cacophony, an association of spiders whose name only really makes sense to spiders. They seek to establish diplomatic ties with the Angular Serpentine. Current StepYou want to join an organization. This likely is not an order, since vislae start the game already belonging to an order if they wish it. Vislae often join other organizations as well, however, and this arc is a great way to portray that. Cost: The Decision to Join. You pay a cost of 2 Acumen. Opening: Getting the Details. 1 Acumen reward. You learn all you can about the organization and how one becomes a member. Step(s): Making a Contact. 1 Acumen reward. Friends on the inside are always important. Step(s): Performing a Deed. 2 Acumen reward. The organization might want to test your worth, or this might be a ceremony you must take part in. It might include paying some sort of dues or fee. Or all of these things. Climax: Proving Your Worth. 2 Acumen reward. This is the point at which you attempt to show the organization that they would be better off with you as a member. A successful resolution results in 1 Joy. Failure results in 1 Despair. Resolution: 1 Acumen reward. You consider your efforts and assess what your membership gets you. : The decision to join For now, I remain ignorant that I'm being considered for invitation. Aid a Friend Aldrion Phect wishes to rescue his spouse from Shadow, but first he must Uncover the Secret of how such a task might even be possible. I'm too closeted a romantic to tell him I can't resist helping somebody reunite with their loved one. Current StepSomeone needs your help. When a PC friend takes a character arc, you can select this arc to help them with whatever their arc is (if appropriate). The steps and climax depend entirely on their chosen arc. If the friend is an NPC, the steps and climax are lifted from another arc appropriate to whatever they seek to do. If you have a bond with the friend you are helping, this may increase the Acumen earned with each story point by 1. It’s difficult, but possible, to aid a friend with an arc even if that friend is unwilling to accept (or is ignorant of ) your help. The majority of the cost, story points, and rewards for a character with this arc are the same as those described in the original character arc. Cost: Agreeing to Help. You pay a cost of 2 Acumen. Opening: Answering the Call. 1 Acumen reward. Offering to help (or responding to a request for help). Step(s) and Climax: Depends on the friend’s arc. Acumen, Joy, and Despair rewards are the same for you as for the friend. Resolution: 1 Acumen reward. You speak with your friend and learn if they are satisfied. Together, you share what you’ve learned (if anything) and where you will go from here.: Agreeing to help I've agreed to help, but Aldrion and I haven't discussed it further. Description Appearance Xanah and the possessions on her person lose color saturation in proportion to her amount of sunlight exposure. She's completely grayscale in broad daylight. She otherwise sports a head of medium-length red-brown hair, copper colored eyes, and a fair complexion. Xanah is of unremarkable height and build, a slim physique that belies a lifetime of overindulging. It's only her constantly moving workaholic ethic that keeps her in shape. Her clothing usually favors practicality and comfort, never one to indulge in fashionable fads. Ever conscientious of her habits, Xanah always smells faintly of cinnamon and spice. Personality Lives on coffee, cigars, and favors. Fiercely individualist to a fault. A tarnished heart of gold. Tendency to overindulge. A patron of lost causes, shooter of troubles, slayer of dragons, walker of tightropes, and runner with scissors. Banned from kitchens across the Actuality for abject culinary incompetence. Never met a stranger before but carefully chooses close friendships A closeted romantic, almost disgustingly so. Her sharp tongue and compulsion to kick hornets' nests and turn over rocks makes many enemies. In her Order she's been demoted twice for it. Occupation Xanah describes herself as "creatively entrepreneurial," which is to say she doesn't actually have a traditional occupation. As previously mentioned, she lives off favors. These keep her constantly busy juggling a tangled web of commitments, investments, activism, and odd-jobs that she's perfectly satisfied living in the middle of. Income can be wildly inconsistent, but she's never been one to require much in the way of creature comforts. She's just as likely to blow a windfall on a hopeless cause as she is to devote it to a strategic endeavor. "Money," she says, "is just a means to an end, grease for the skids." She toys with the idea of running for office but talks herself out of it, saying that nobody would vote for her anyway. Despite her modest self-assessment, the growing network of contacts she's been developing suggests she might get more support than she realizes. Dichotomies Wealth or Fame - "It's all in who you know." Friends or Family - "I don't make close friends easy, but the few I have are basically family." Power or Control - "I'm the spider dead center in the web." Introvert or Extrovert - "There's nothing I love more than good company." Order or Chaos - "A little strategic chaos keeps the omnipotent busybodies from getting too comfortable." Freedom or Safety - "'Live free or die trying', I say." Society or the Individual - "Society is people. Make a difference for one and you make a different society." Generosity or Greed - "You give a little to get a little. Sometimes, well...sometimes people need me to give a little more." Moral code or Instinct - "Scruples are what separates man from the animals." Ego or Id - "Can't honestly say I've ever been accused of temperance or self control." Nature or Nurture - "Pro tip: Yes, it's your fault and you can do better." Thought or Action - "I'm a make-it-up-as-you-go kind of gal." Instinct or Knowledge - "My gut has never let me down about what the right thing to do is." Charity or Self-sufficiency - "Everybody needs somebody sometime." Home or the Road - "Give me a warm house and somebody to share it with on all the days that end in 'Y'." Contentment or Challenge - "Look, I don't go crusading for lost causes. They seek me out. They know I"m easy." Pools Injuries: [ ] [ ] [ ] Wounds: [ ] [ ] [ ] Anguish: [ ] [ ] [ ] CERTES QUALIA Accuracy: 3/3 Movement: 1/1 Sorcery: 5/5 Interaction: 4/4 Physicality: 3/3 Perception: 4/4 Intelligence: 1/1 Sortilege: 3/3 Hidden Knowledge: 12 Rests: 1 round, 1 round, 10 minutes, 1 hour Name xDiceName xDiceResult xDiceString xDiceRolls Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Gryphon173 Posted February 8 Clone Share Posted February 8 Shuistliel Shuistliel appended, "Black, if you would be so kind," to Xanah's statement. After Ma'am departed, he chuckled. "Still making that old joke, I see. "How well do you know h..." he began, cutting off his question when Phect entered the room. Aldrion Phect, the Vancian thought. They'd seen each other in passing -- and once Liel had gotten a letter addressed to the other by accident and redelivered it properly -- but Shuistliel certainly wouldn't say they'd truly met. We're both swordsmen, he thought with a slight wince at the gender inherent in the title. That was still an open wound, it seemed, and he wondered if it always would be. I believe he's a Vislae, but he certainly not part of the Order. Shuistliel waited to hear what Phect would say in response to Xanah, but he was much more interested in Ma'am's statement about stealing names. Maybe Phect knew more about that, too. NEW! Character Arcs Develop a Bond: Shuistliel realizes he has too few friends, and would like to expand his circle of true friends. Solve a Mystery: There's a ton of questions surrounding the webbing of his neighborhood and the swirl of angry birds aloft, and Shuistliel wants answers to all of them. And he can handle the truth! Description Shuistliel is a very handsome man with long silver hair and green eyes the color of fine emeralds. He is dressed as he usually is, in a nice suit, jacket, and pants, and he has his usual snake-headed cane along. He moves quite agilely, like a dancer, perhaps. What's unusual this morning is the black survival combat axe carried in one hand while the cane is tucked under an arm. He is using the blade along the curved back of the axe -- which is apparently quite sharp -- to sever webs, but he's carefully avoiding severing certain ones. (Those who know anything about spider webs know that these are the radial ones used to detect prey, rather than the axial ones that trap prey.) Pools Certes Accuracy: 3/3 Movement: 3/3 Physicality: 2/2 Perception: 3/3 Qualia Sorcery: 4/4 Interaction: 3/3 Intellect: 3/3 Sortilege: 3/3 Hidden Knowledge: 10 Injuries: Wounds: Anguish: Rests: 1 round, 1 round, 10 minutes, 1 hour Name xDiceName xDiceResult xDiceString xDiceRolls Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
TheRaconteur Posted February 9 Author Clone Share Posted February 9 (edited) Chapter I - Act I: A Shitty Start Sooth Deck: The Cat Effects: None Divination: "One sometimes must act alone to succeed. Curiosity and cleverness can be virtues, but be wary of taking them too far. A challenge may arise that involves both mental and physical dexterity." Felicia felt the pull within her, the straining sensation as the Chorus fought to make its will manifest. Too many wills, acting in discordance with one another. Each with its own desires, its own moods. Demons were creatures of destruction, born under the Red Sun, but how that concept manifested was different within each entity. The Chorus was exactly that, but they were not in harmony. Their interests aligned, their pleasures drawn from the same impulses, and yet different in infinite ways. They screamed and strained to rise to the forefront, pushing and tearing at one another in a futile effort to reign supreme. To be the one voice, the one will, that silenced the others into submission. "Don't let it in, don't let it in, DON'T LET IT IN!" And then just as suddenly as it rose, it was ripped back, torn to pieces by the howling mob and cast down. The strain of holding dominion for even a moment too much. Was that the only thing that stopped her from being overwhelmed? Would unity amongst them be enough to establish dominance over her as well? A concerning thought, and one that might need to be dealt with in time. She crossed through the threshold, escaping the brightness and the crisp bite of the morning to the enduring chill of her own estate. The cold sunk deep into the stone, so deep that no hearthfire could truly drive it out. A cold older than the night, older than countless nights, not beaten back but merely kept at bay by gas, coal, or firewood. The Raven at her shoulder shook its wings once at the touch of it, then gave the corvid equivalent of a wince, evidently regretting the motion. It fretted and pecked at its injured wing, but still tried to remain hypervigilant of its surroundings. "Name-thieves." It squeaked, answering her question as she set it down upon the workbench to begin her labors. Setting out tools, carving a mold, and lighting her crucible to melt the silver she had with her. "Many-legs, patient-hunters. Trap-setters, name-thieves." The words seemed to agitate the bird, and she struggled for a moment in her labors as it refused to sit still. Eventually it calmed enough for her to resume the task of measuring it, though its beady eyes looked up and down the length of the bench, as if it half expected a spider to come charging at it across the tabletop. Xanah felt her own magic seeking to give shape and form to her words, even her jest seeking her guiding will. Ma'am nodded approvingly at her request though, retreating from the living room and back towards the small kitchenette, gently pushing Aldrion past her to join his fellow Vislae. The living room was again a small and cramped affair, with the majority of the space of the Maker's House being occupied elsewhere. Likely a workroom, given the proclivities of those of her Order. The space here was small and comfortable, but with ever so slightly too few places to sit for the four of them when she returned. There was a brown sofa that was just big enough to fit too of them, covered in several heavy woolen quilts in a garish variety of colors, worn and faded with the passage of time. They looked like they would be exceedingly comfortable if they weren't too itchy, as there was an abundance of loose threads here and there to poke and tickle. Beside it was a high backed chair of faded red leather, though this too was piled with even more quilts. As all the windows of the home, it was clear that the quilts also depicted the celestial landscapes, though the far more crude in wool than it was in stained glass. Another craft of the Maker's perhaps, or else just an indulgence. Regardless, it left them with three clear seats, and four of them to claim them. Unless they counted the little wooden footstool next to the chair, though it was so low to the ground that they might as well just be sitting on the floor. "Cream, lemon, homesickness, or honey?" She called out from the other room, where she could be heard collecting more mugs. After the brisk chill of the air outside, the room felt warm and inviting. It was a very lived in sensation, from the books piled on the arm of the sofa closest to the chair, to the two discarded tea cups and saucers resting on the footstool. One still had a finger of tea in the bottom, so they likely hadn't been their that long, though without tasting or touching it they couldn't tell if it had truly gone cold. Edited February 9 by TheRaconteur (see edit history) Name xDiceName xDiceResult xDiceString xDiceRolls Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Amora Posted February 10 Clone Share Posted February 10 Felicia Ainsworth Dominion. It was a strange thought that her own self position might be upon so tenuous a premise as the Chorus being unable to unify and overcome it's innate inclinations to destructive, chaotic change. That none of the things housed within her yet had the preeminence to unit the cacophonous horde into something that could fully and truly triumph over the many facetted soul and will of a Vislae. It forced an unpleasant perspective... That until she understood the nature of their shared agreement, the precise clauses of their agreement, that she might be living on borrowed time. A variable that was undefined, uncategorized, utterly unknown as it depended on how long the demons might be turned upon each other, might be pitted against each other, before finding sufficient common ground in their endless evolution to... well... unite to pursue some other avenue of destructive, transformative change. Perhaps at her expense, perhaps not. All this pushed away the thoughts of the cold as her body continued to burn like a furnace for the endless roiling flames trapped within it though she offered a sympathetic coo to the raven upon her shoulder at it's agitation. "Name-thieves? Whose name did they steal?" It was a delicate question combined with delicate work as she gently nurtured the flame of the crucible to render the silver down to it's essence and form it into an ingot by which she could draw it out, shape it, twist it and ultimately re-solidify it into something that would aid the wounded Raven in restoring it's body to right and proper order as an Angel of the Silver might wish. Granted, she was certain any sufficiently trained veterinarian or doctor would tell her that her envisioned design was far too complex, far too baroque or some other such plea towards elegance for a solution to the wing but she worked with what she knew and what she knew was art. She could not be rushed in this and hoped the Raven understood that as well as she spared glances this way and that in support of it's constant vigil, letting it know that she understood it's concern and was not ignoring this facet of it's nature either. It was a wounded animal and there was something of a kinship in that as she spared a glance to her now darkened finger tips and the marks dug fresh and angry into the palm of one hand. The gentle chime of the hammer began to fill her workshop then, pushing back the shadow and cold between it and the lingering warmth of the crucible with each strike as she drew out the ingot and split it. She knew that the wing would require bracing and the vision she had for this apparatus, accordingly, provided such in a series of interlocking plates mounted along a segmented spine that mirrored what she could gleam of the bones beneath in her measurements. Each plate, in kind, etched with a half remembered blessings and prayers to... someone or something for swift and full recovery. The tempo of the hammer only stopping for a moment as she sought reached out to open one drawer or another to produce yet more parts in the forms of small gears, joints, and springs to server as yet more strength and support for muscles robbed of their foundations with greatest care to ensure each was sealed away as to not find purchase in flesh or pinion. Somewhere in the work, she found herself faced with a small conundrum as the armature would could almost replace the wing if but for a few additions but she was certain the poor thing wouldn't care for that nor did she have the particular expertise for that... and so fashioned a harness of sorts to hold it to the body out of spare watch straps with some deft work of knife and thread. The final touch was a special consideration for when the poor thing's wing had mended fully. A little pin worked under a cap and buckle on the harness that would set the whole thing to falling away when the time came with a swift peck. Something she'd be sure to show her little acquaintance how to do before they took wing back to the Unkindness. Character Arcs EstablishmentYou want to prove yourself as someone of importance. This can take many forms—socially, within your order, financially, or even romantically. Cost: The Need for Proof. You pay a cost of 2 Acumen. Opening: Assessment. 1 Acumen reward. You assess yourself as well as who you need to prove yourself to. Step(s): Appearances Matter. 1 Acumen reward. You improve your look. Enhance your wardrobe. Spruce up your house. Whatever it takes to get attention from the right people. There might be many such steps. Step(s): Self-Aggrandizement. 1 Acumen reward. You need to get the word out to get people talking about you. There might be many such steps. Climax: Grabbing Attention. 3 Acumen reward. You do something big, like host a party for influential people or produce a play that you wrote. You make a big splash (1 Joy) or a big crash (1 Despair). Resolution: 1 Acumen reward. You reflect on what you did and where you go from here - Current Step: The Need for Proof Develop a BondYou want to get closer to another character. This might be to make a friend, find a mentor, or establish a contact in a position of power. It might be to turn a friend into a much closer friend. The character might be an NPC or a PC. In the case of an NPC, the end result might be an NPC bond, and in the case of a PC it’s a PC bond. Cost: Putting Yourself Out There. You pay a cost of 2 Acumen. Opening: Getting to Know You. 1 Acumen reward. You learn what you can about the other character. Step: Initial Attempt. 1 Acumen reward. You attempt to make contact. This might involve sending messages or gifts through a courier, using an intermediary, or just going up and saying hello, depending on the situation. Step(s): Building a Relationship. 2 Acumen reward. There might be many such steps as you develop the relationship. Climax: Bond. 3 Acumen reward. You succeed or fail at forging the bond. A successful resolution results in 1 Joy. Failure results in 1 Despair. Resolution: 1 Acumen reward. You enjoy the fruits of your new relationship. - Current Step: Getting to Know You Description Description It's the eyes, really, that most fixate upon first. The hues of crimson and gold spinning, twisting, merging in their depths as they seem to give a clear window into the utter depths of Felicia's mind with their uniquely expressive quality. That there feels to be a thousand, a hundred thousand, pairs of eyes staring back from behind those initial windows to the soul only seems to cement the impression of something troublesome, something worrying to compliment the elfin quality of her sharp features and diminutive frame. That sensation of malice, of gleeful cruelty, welling up from somewhere in those depths even as she comports herself with nothing but cheerful, if stoic, mannerisms and inexhaustible impressions of attention to the minute aesthetics of every gesture, motion, and twist of both herself and the world around her. In matters of garb, she tends to play to the company she plans for with blouses, dresses, and pants of riotous colors among the bohemian communes of Fartown to the carefully coordinated yet still somehow esoteric gowns and suits of high society galas and soirees. Each and every ensemble meticulously planned and coordinated like one of the great works of her brushes. The only break from this carefully crafted aesthetic seems to be her hair, pale and bloodless as her complexion. It's length healthy, glossy, and well tended but cursed with creative differences in how it curls and falls. Despite this, it seems always to blend, practically meld, seamlessly into any trim of fur or feather that might adorn a chosen outfit. Like those glimpses of alien malice and cruelty in the depths of her eyes, there always seems to be a discordant element that shadows her. Whether it be a flicker of something other in the crimson depths of her eyes, the way her shadow seems to twitch and twist without her ever moving, or how her reflection never quite seems to be her... It becomes all too clear that her body and soul might be host to something besides merely the artist... Worse still is the careful and delicate work of brush and needle; whisking away bruises here, deep scratches or cuts there, all damning evidence of struggles with the self. In the Guise of Immanis The energies of the Abyss are, by its very nature, an instrument of the Dark and unkind as a rule to the essential fabric of whatever is and may be. It is only by the tempering elements of the Gold Sun that the taking in of such hostile energies is more than merely an elaborate form of suicide. The raw stresses of this are quite evident then when Madame Ainsworth invokes so terrible a spell. Her already pale skin grows to be a lifeless gray, gaining an unseemly translucence that is easily pierced by even the wane light of Fartown beneath the Indigo Sun. The lines and forms of every bone visible from just the right angles as they shatter, stretch, and mend with an agonizing rapidity to drag her up to a daunting height. Sinew, muscle and tendon all the while snapping, recoiling, and reforming to accommodate this new and predatory bearing. Veins and arteries, in kind, flow with noxious black as the corruptive energies swirl and take root, her eyes draining of that distinct crimson and gold hue leaving only a single prick of light nearly drowned in a sea of impenetrable black. Were that these the extent of the horrors wrought by the invoking of the Eye of Immanis for one can't help but stare as razor-like teeth push aside whatever may block their way, twisting and gnarling the line of gum and tooth to pierce and part the flesh of the cheek revealing a hideous, too broad maw. A likewise change playing out in the hands as bones shatter and twist as tendons and sinew reinforce to accommodate the agonizingly slow-yet-quick emergence of seven inch talons, black as jet, that now adorn each finger tip. This final change marking the ultimate perversion, turning tools of creation to tools of abject and potent destruction. Pools Certes Accuracy: 3/3 Movement: 3/3 Physicality: 2/3 Perception: 4/4 Qualia Sorcery: 6/6 Interaction: 6/6 (+3 from Signature Item) Intellect: 2/3 Sortilege: 1/2 Hidden Knowledge: 10 Injuries: Wounds: Anguish: Rests: 1 round, 1 round, 10 minutes, 1 hour Name xDiceName xDiceResult xDiceString xDiceRolls Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Gryphon173 Posted February 11 Clone Share Posted February 11 Shuistliel Shuistliel had no idea if the little creatures that were always around were in any way predictive, but he also couldn't help but get a little superstitious about them. Glancing around, he spotted the little blue-and-green frog that was his current fellow-traveler. Not a bad sign (like a deathwatch beetle) but not a good sign, either. "Just black, please, Ma'am," he said, although he really preferred lemon. Homesickness? he thought. That's the last thing I need to feel right now. He turned his attention back to Phect. "As my former classmate said, I'm Shuistliel," he said. "That's a mouthful, so you can just call me Liel if you wish." He sighed, weighing something in his head, and then continued. "My home, the Bastion, is home to spiders, and when I woke up this morning and all of the region was covered in webs, they were gone. I never learned to speak with them yet -- though I suppose the greater of them could speak to me -- and I'm worried about them. "It must have something to do with what's happening, but I don't have the faintest idea what's going on. My guess is that Xanah's as in the dark as I am, so I ask you, Aldrion Phect, do you have any information?" The Vancian's tone is friendly and inquisitive; he's not accusing anyone of anything, just wanting information about the crisis that has literally fallen on the neighborhood. NEW! Character Arcs Develop a Bond: Shuistliel realizes he has too few friends, and would like to expand his circle of true friends. Solve a Mystery: There's a ton of questions surrounding the webbing of his neighborhood and the swirl of angry birds aloft, and Shuistliel wants answers to all of them. And he can handle the truth! Description Shuistliel is a very handsome man with long silver hair and green eyes the color of fine emeralds. He is dressed as he usually is, in a nice suit, jacket, and pants, and he has his usual snake-headed cane along. He moves quite agilely, like a dancer, perhaps. What's unusual this morning is the black survival combat axe carried in one hand while the cane is tucked under an arm. He is using the blade along the curved back of the axe -- which is apparently quite sharp -- to sever webs, but he's carefully avoiding severing certain ones. (Those who know anything about spider webs know that these are the radial ones used to detect prey, rather than the axial ones that trap prey.) Pools Certes Accuracy: 3/3 Movement: 3/3 Physicality: 2/2 Perception: 3/3 Qualia Sorcery: 4/4 Interaction: 3/3 Intellect: 3/3 Sortilege: 3/3 Hidden Knowledge: 10 Injuries: Wounds: Anguish: Rests: 1 round, 1 round, 10 minutes, 1 hour Name xDiceName xDiceResult xDiceString xDiceRolls Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ganurath Posted February 12 Clone Share Posted February 12 Aldrion Phect From his time in Shadow, there were now distant memories of getting outright filthy removing unfit machine parts to be replaced. The visceral revulsion to the unwelcome touch of a potential hazard on the skin... One didn't get completely used to it, but Aldrion managed well enough to avoid tipping off the birds. Worry for the spider that remained behind helped to distract him from instincts that still carried old assumptions from Shadow. Aldrion gave Ma'am a nod of acknowledgement at the comment about coffee. He hadn't been one for that, either, but he suspected the more abstract morning pick-me-ups he'd been experimenting with might have similar drawbacks down the line. Plus, there was something sociable about sharing food with someone. It was why he kept eating recreationally despite his Orb providing for him. So, he watched Ma'am work at preparing tea, to see what he could learn of the process. The lesson was cut short by his host spotting his guest, though, and he couldn't help but smile behind his scarf. It seemed like he'd made the right call. He was tempted to comment but when Ma'am asked that he hold still, he thought better of it. Especially once it became apparent that physical tapping was part of the spider language, as he didn't want to cause a miscommunication. At least, until the theft of Names was revealed. Which... Well, it explained why the Spiders were worked up, at least. The webbing was only half the mess, and it seemed like the ravens weren't content with the Names of the Spiders. There was more to this than what was obvious, that was clear. "How would we-" A knock at the front door cut Aldrion's question short, and after Ma'am went off to answer it, he found his gaze drifting toward the wrist that bore a tragically Nameless Spider. He looked around here and there for a convenient surface for the Spider to dismount. Unfortunately, he didn't find a suitable location before hearing a call to bring tea. Suffice to say, when Ma'am came back to the kitchen she found Aldrion struggling with how to bring in multiple cups of tea while balancing a rightfully anxious Spider that he didn't know how to communicate with on his wrist. Hearing her arrive, he'd look toward her with a tone of voice carrying naked embarrassment. "I can't recall a time I've prepared or served tea, either." After Ma'am "gently" guided him to the other room, he gave Xanah a nod of acknowledgement. As attention focused to someone named Liel, Aldrion held out his left hand to offer an unconventional handshake. While a righty, he suspected the Spider wouldn't be on board for it. Or at least, would prefer not to be. "Passing acquaintances, but it'd be nice to have proper introductions. Saw Ma'am looking for something in her yard, and figured she either had a clue or a separate problem. Liel, was it?" At the offered additions to the tea, Aldrion frowned behind his scarf. Homesickness was too close to heartache for him, and with what he'd learned the other day- He shook his head. Something to give his attention to once immediate concerns were addressed. "We'd just gotten some information, although I've got about as much talent for languages as you sound like you do. Ma'am's the one with the exposition. No additives for me either, thank you, Ma'am." Character Arcs Uncover a SecretThere is knowledge out there that you want. This arc is a great way to get one of the secrets in the chapter Character and House Secrets that the GM has said aren’t readily available. Likewise, it could be an attempt to find and learn a specific rare spell or ritual. This could also be a hunt for a lost magic word or key that will open a sealed door, the name of a devil, the secret name of an important person, or just how the arabast fashioned their windows in ancient times. Cost: Seeker. You pay a cost of 2 Acumen. Opening: Naming the Secret. 1 Acumen reward. You give your goal a name. “I am seeking the lost martial art of the Khendrix, who could slice steel with their bare hands.” Step(s): Research. 1 Acumen reward. You scour libraries and old tomes for clues and information. Step(s): Investigation. 1 Acumen reward. You talk to people to gain clues and information. Step(s): Tracking. 1 Acumen reward. You track down the source of the secret information and travel to it. Climax: Revelation. 2 Acumen reward. You find and attempt to use the secret, whatever that entails. A successful resolution results in 1 Joy. Failure results in 1 Despair. Resolution: 1 Acumen reward. You contemplate how this secret affects you and the world. - Current Step: Seeker CleanseSomeone or something has been contaminated, probably by foul magic, and you want to rid them of such influences. This might be a curse, a possession, an infestation, or something else. Cost: Becoming Aware of the Need. You pay a cost of 2 Acumen. Opening: Analyzing the Threat. 1 Acumen reward. You determine the nature of the contamination. Step: Find the Solution. 2 Acumen reward. Almost every contamination has its own particular solution, and this likely involves research and consultation. Step: Getting Ready. 1 Acumen reward. The solution probably involves materials, spells, or other things that you must gather and prepare. Climax: The Cleansing. 3 Acumen reward. You confront the contamination. A successful resolution results in 1 Joy. Failure results in 1 Despair. Resolution: 1 Acumen reward. You reflect on the events that have transpired and what effects they might have on the future. How can you keep this from happening again? - Current Step: Analyzing the Threat Description Aldrion prefers to cover up, as his time in the Shadow working in repairs instilled him with an appreciation of proper protection. He has a scar over one eyebrow, presumably from a narrow miss taken during the war. He favors a style that mixes plain colors with the odd splash of supernatural hues, often in shades of or near indigo in representation of his newfound appreciation for the truth. Pools Certes Accuracy: 2/2 Movement: 3/3 Physicality: 2/2 Perception: 2/2 Qualia Sorcery: 8/8 Interaction: 3/3 Intellect: 3/3 Sortilege: 3/3 Hidden Knowledge: 12 Injuries: Wounds: Anguish: Rests: 1 round, 1 round, 10 minutes, 1 hour Name xDiceName xDiceResult xDiceString xDiceRolls Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
TheRaconteur Posted February 13 Author Clone Share Posted February 13 (edited) Chapter I - Act I: A Shitty Start Sooth Deck: The Cat Effects: None Divination: "One sometimes must act alone to succeed. Curiosity and cleverness can be virtues, but be wary of taking them too far. A challenge may arise that involves both mental and physical dexterity." She felt the Chorus within her flex, straining at the intricate matrix of bindings and agreements that kept them inexorably blended and tied with her own soul. The terms of the contract seemingly unknown to both host and parasitic hoard. Each blind, governed by rules and laws they could not help but feel, yet could not comprehend. It was no attempt to escape, merely one of countless probing tests, looking for any clause or loophole that might be exploited. It wasn't violent, it was one of the only things the Chorus did that wasn't so. It was most closely akin to breathing, the Chorus expanding to and contracting on their own unseen currents. Filling the space that they had been bound too, an inexorable tide governed by names and compacts unknown. She'd spoken with Gnostics in the past, and though their philosophy seemed strange to her ordered mind she'd understood the importance of names when it came to conjuration. Save for the label which she had given them, she knew the names of none of those who shared her existence. They were merely the Chorus of Whispers, Easier then to focus on matters more under her control. Below her, the Raven remained remarkably still as she worked, allowing her to measure its injured wing and apply her curious contraption. Its beady eyes still scanned about, checking the horizons of the workbench to ensure that no eight legged thing was creeping over its lip. Scanning the air above it to ensure that nothing was descending silently upon a web of silk to sink envenomed fangs into flesh and blood. It pause only when she asked it her question, it's mouth opening and closing silently in obvious agitation. "Stolen-names, can't-remember." It kept trying to speak, but not seeming to find the right words. Instead repeating itself and embellishing as it tried to refine its attempts. "Can't-remember, any-name, all-stolen." Which was confusing at first, as clearly the Raven could remember names. It had given the Spiders many names in its strange two worded speak, from "name-thieves," to "patient-hunters." So it hadn't been stripped of its ability to speak "any-name." Unless.... What happened to a name that was stolen? Where did it go? Did the entity from whom it was stolen simply adopt another name, another title? That seemed the logical conclusion, but the Actuality was an existence governed by the logic of Magic, not of the mind. If a name could be stolen, who was to say that a True Name couldn't also be? What then? Did one become anathema to the concept of a name until it was returned, unable to even be described by one's closest As the apparatus was installed, the bird became more and more eager and excited, and less and less patient about staying still. She barely got the last of the straps tied before it was fluttering, hovering a few feet off the work table before landing again. No sounds of pain emerged from its beak, no croaks of distress. It seemed her administrations had returned the gift of flight to the bird. "Raven-friend, take-you. Come-see, come-speak? Come-learn, come-fly?" "None of you actually drink tea then, do you?" Ma'am said from the kitchen once they'd all given their orders, emerging a moment later with a wooden tray piled with four earthenware mugs in a variety of blue and teal colors, swirls and stripes encircling them, and a little plate in the middle of the same materials. All four had tea bags in, each with a little paper label on the end of the string dyed bright orange. Each of these had a printing of a clock on it, though as she set the tray down she took two of the bags out of their respective mugs and set them on the little plate. "No more than five minutes for you two or it will be too bitter." She handed Phect one of the now bagless mugs, and took the other. Between the four of them, she was the only one who appeared to have added anything to her tea. Theirs were all variations on the same dark brown color, while hers had most certainly had a generous pour of cream. Then she was sitting down in the foot stool, bending low so that she could be close the Aldrion's sleeve. From within, he could just barely feel the tap-tap-taping of the arachnid as it beat out its irregular rhythm upon the cloth. She nodded along, her amber and black eyes going out of focused as she listened to the sound. "Phect here has been a clever boy, found one of the Brood of Kull and snuck the poor dear inside in his sleeve. I don't know the Kullbrood well, but this little one was under the protection of the... ah this is going to be annoying... under the one whose House Shuistliel here has been living in. " Even as she said the words, Shuistliel realized that not only did he not know the name of the entity whose domain he had been permitted to intrude upon, he couldn't even think of the name of what it was. If he blocked all thoughts of his own experiences with the entity out of his mind, he could think of the concept of "Truespiders." He could think of other Truespiders he'd encountered, and he was even pretty sure he might even be able to say the word aloud. But the moment he tried to think about the thing that had claimed the Bastion before he'd come along, the name just vanished. "Most of the Cacophony think the Ravens did it, as the Ravens had an envoy visiting last night, and have been trying to capture its servants to force the name out of them. They weren't expecting the dew to make everything so hard. The birds have been biting back, as you saw." They could all piece together what the problem was there. The morning dew had alighted on all the webs, making all of them vastly more obvious than they might have been otherwise. They could be seen, which meant that they could be avoided. The Spiders had sought to trap the Ravens, but had only managed to catch a handful before being driven into hiding by the vengeful unkindness. To Aldrion's ears, she'd sounded more distressed when she couldn't locate any Spiders than she did now at the prospect of a war between them and the Ravens. Edited February 13 by TheRaconteur (see edit history) Name xDiceName xDiceResult xDiceString xDiceRolls Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Gryphon173 Posted February 13 Clone Share Posted February 13 Shuistliel "So does your little friend know the ravens did this, or does he believe the ravens did this?" Shusistliel asks as he sips his tea. Needs ice and a ton of sugar, he thought, southern-style sweet tea being one of his fonder memories from Shadow. He continued carefully, making his way through now-treacherous words. "The one...whose house...I live in, um, isn't there anymore. The feeling is absent. More than a name may have been stolen in that case; I don't know." NEW! Character Arcs Develop a Bond: Shuistliel realizes he has too few friends, and would like to expand his circle of true friends. Solve a Mystery: There's a ton of questions surrounding the webbing of his neighborhood and the swirl of angry birds aloft, and Shuistliel wants answers to all of them. And he can handle the truth! Description Shuistliel is a very handsome man with long silver hair and green eyes the color of fine emeralds. He is dressed as he usually is, in a nice suit, jacket, and pants, and he has his usual snake-headed cane along. He moves quite agilely, like a dancer, perhaps. What's unusual this morning is the black survival combat axe carried in one hand while the cane is tucked under an arm. He is using the blade along the curved back of the axe -- which is apparently quite sharp -- to sever webs, but he's carefully avoiding severing certain ones. (Those who know anything about spider webs know that these are the radial ones used to detect prey, rather than the axial ones that trap prey.) Pools Certes Accuracy: 3/3 Movement: 3/3 Physicality: 2/2 Perception: 3/3 Qualia Sorcery: 4/4 Interaction: 3/3 Intellect: 3/3 Sortilege: 3/3 Hidden Knowledge: 10 Injuries: Wounds: Anguish: Rests: 1 round, 1 round, 10 minutes, 1 hour Name xDiceName xDiceResult xDiceString xDiceRolls Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Amora Posted February 16 Clone Share Posted February 16 (edited) Felicia Ainsworth Felicia offered a soft, understanding frown to the Raven as it fumbled for words and gently worried at the tip of her tongue while it became more and more excited about the fruits of her labours and generosity. It was endearing but also frustrating as she only had the merest fraction of a second to secure the last of the harnesses before the Raven beat its wings and fluttered above her head and out of reach before settling back to the weathered surface of her work bench. All of it earning a smile and sincere joy that she felt almost guilty for feeling as the Chorus of Whispers flexed, nameless and potent, within her. Each testing of the boundaries practically in time with the beat of her heart and the tempo of her breath. The harmony unpleasant and omni-present within the frameworks of her self-awareness. The invitation drew her away from such internalized considerations though as she settled both her hands atop the desk. The marks upon her palms hidden as she clasped them before her. "I'd like to, do you have a name or are you victim of this all too?" She asked gently as she rose and offered her arm once more, the pain of it's talons inconsequential against her still holding together will and the small respite from the cacophonous horde within. She knew now that the Raven could fly unimpeded, it no doubt felt far safer... but she understood too that it'd feel far far safer with the eternal autumn sky of Fartown over head rather than the cold, dead walls of her abandoned clan's ancestral seat. Even in the warm and lived in confines of her workshop and bed chambers... You couldn't avoid the cold of it all nor escape the feeling of the echoes of her ancestors that seemed drawn and trapped here. A fate she had quite a few questions about but had found no answers to. Character Arcs EstablishmentYou want to prove yourself as someone of importance. This can take many forms—socially, within your order, financially, or even romantically. Cost: The Need for Proof. You pay a cost of 2 Acumen. Opening: Assessment. 1 Acumen reward. You assess yourself as well as who you need to prove yourself to. Step(s): Appearances Matter. 1 Acumen reward. You improve your look. Enhance your wardrobe. Spruce up your house. Whatever it takes to get attention from the right people. There might be many such steps. Step(s): Self-Aggrandizement. 1 Acumen reward. You need to get the word out to get people talking about you. There might be many such steps. Climax: Grabbing Attention. 3 Acumen reward. You do something big, like host a party for influential people or produce a play that you wrote. You make a big splash (1 Joy) or a big crash (1 Despair). Resolution: 1 Acumen reward. You reflect on what you did and where you go from here - Current Step: The Need for Proof Develop a BondYou want to get closer to another character. This might be to make a friend, find a mentor, or establish a contact in a position of power. It might be to turn a friend into a much closer friend. The character might be an NPC or a PC. In the case of an NPC, the end result might be an NPC bond, and in the case of a PC it’s a PC bond. Cost: Putting Yourself Out There. You pay a cost of 2 Acumen. Opening: Getting to Know You. 1 Acumen reward. You learn what you can about the other character. Step: Initial Attempt. 1 Acumen reward. You attempt to make contact. This might involve sending messages or gifts through a courier, using an intermediary, or just going up and saying hello, depending on the situation. Step(s): Building a Relationship. 2 Acumen reward. There might be many such steps as you develop the relationship. Climax: Bond. 3 Acumen reward. You succeed or fail at forging the bond. A successful resolution results in 1 Joy. Failure results in 1 Despair. Resolution: 1 Acumen reward. You enjoy the fruits of your new relationship. - Current Step: Getting to Know You Description Description It's the eyes, really, that most fixate upon first. The hues of crimson and gold spinning, twisting, merging in their depths as they seem to give a clear window into the utter depths of Felicia's mind with their uniquely expressive quality. That there feels to be a thousand, a hundred thousand, pairs of eyes staring back from behind those initial windows to the soul only seems to cement the impression of something troublesome, something worrying to compliment the elfin quality of her sharp features and diminutive frame. That sensation of malice, of gleeful cruelty, welling up from somewhere in those depths even as she comports herself with nothing but cheerful, if stoic, mannerisms and inexhaustible impressions of attention to the minute aesthetics of every gesture, motion, and twist of both herself and the world around her. In matters of garb, she tends to play to the company she plans for with blouses, dresses, and pants of riotous colors among the bohemian communes of Fartown to the carefully coordinated yet still somehow esoteric gowns and suits of high society galas and soirees. Each and every ensemble meticulously planned and coordinated like one of the great works of her brushes. The only break from this carefully crafted aesthetic seems to be her hair, pale and bloodless as her complexion. It's length healthy, glossy, and well tended but cursed with creative differences in how it curls and falls. Despite this, it seems always to blend, practically meld, seamlessly into any trim of fur or feather that might adorn a chosen outfit. Like those glimpses of alien malice and cruelty in the depths of her eyes, there always seems to be a discordant element that shadows her. Whether it be a flicker of something other in the crimson depths of her eyes, the way her shadow seems to twitch and twist without her ever moving, or how her reflection never quite seems to be her... It becomes all too clear that her body and soul might be host to something besides merely the artist... Worse still is the careful and delicate work of brush and needle; whisking away bruises here, deep scratches or cuts there, all damning evidence of struggles with the self. In the Guise of Immanis The energies of the Abyss are, by its very nature, an instrument of the Dark and unkind as a rule to the essential fabric of whatever is and may be. It is only by the tempering elements of the Gold Sun that the taking in of such hostile energies is more than merely an elaborate form of suicide. The raw stresses of this are quite evident then when Madame Ainsworth invokes so terrible a spell. Her already pale skin grows to be a lifeless gray, gaining an unseemly translucence that is easily pierced by even the wane light of Fartown beneath the Indigo Sun. The lines and forms of every bone visible from just the right angles as they shatter, stretch, and mend with an agonizing rapidity to drag her up to a daunting height. Sinew, muscle and tendon all the while snapping, recoiling, and reforming to accommodate this new and predatory bearing. Veins and arteries, in kind, flow with noxious black as the corruptive energies swirl and take root, her eyes draining of that distinct crimson and gold hue leaving only a single prick of light nearly drowned in a sea of impenetrable black. Were that these the extent of the horrors wrought by the invoking of the Eye of Immanis for one can't help but stare as razor-like teeth push aside whatever may block their way, twisting and gnarling the line of gum and tooth to pierce and part the flesh of the cheek revealing a hideous, too broad maw. A likewise change playing out in the hands as bones shatter and twist as tendons and sinew reinforce to accommodate the agonizingly slow-yet-quick emergence of seven inch talons, black as jet, that now adorn each finger tip. This final change marking the ultimate perversion, turning tools of creation to tools of abject and potent destruction. Pools Certes Accuracy: 3/3 Movement: 3/3 Physicality: 1/3 Perception: 4/4 Qualia Sorcery: 6/6 Interaction: 6/6 (+3 from Signature Item) Intellect: 2/3 Sortilege: 1/2 Hidden Knowledge: 10 Injuries: Wounds: Anguish: Rests: 1 round, 1 round, 10 minutes, 1 hour Edited February 16 by Amora (see edit history) Name xDiceName xDiceResult xDiceString xDiceRolls Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Aavarius Posted February 17 Clone Share Posted February 17 Xanah Xanah attempted to suppress a knowing smile when she heard Ma'am's questioning commentary on everyone's tea knowledge. She didn't want to give the impression she was laughing at the men. They might have thought she was being rude. "Black tea with lemon," she gave her order, indicating she knew the difference to her hostess. Xanah's eyes got wide as she heard the explanations and started to realize the extent of what was going on here. There was enough of a lack of sunlight in this sitting room that they could see how copper colored her irises were. She hadn't realized at first that the old woman was translating for them what the spider on Aldrion's arm was saying--tapping, actually. She leaned over to get her eyes closer to the little messenger on Aldrion's arm, obviously fascinated by it. She didn't know who or what the Cacophony was, but the context of the conversation helped her feel comfortable assuming it was arachnid-related. When there seemed to be an appropriate break in the conversation she said, "What I know is that the other house down the road--the abandoned place, mind--is also a spider nest. I don't know if it's the same brood or not, but I do have a strong sense that the place is on a security lockdown. It's a bit of a fortress with all the extra layers of webbing on it. Surely that's related to all this." She looked down to the spider in the room and asked it, "How off the mark am I here?" Character Arcs Join an Organization As an arachnophile, I'm being groomed to join the Cacophony, an association of spiders whose name only really makes sense to spiders. They seek to establish diplomatic ties with the Angular Serpentine. Current StepYou want to join an organization. This likely is not an order, since vislae start the game already belonging to an order if they wish it. Vislae often join other organizations as well, however, and this arc is a great way to portray that. Cost: The Decision to Join. You pay a cost of 2 Acumen. Opening: Getting the Details. 1 Acumen reward. You learn all you can about the organization and how one becomes a member. Step(s): Making a Contact. 1 Acumen reward. Friends on the inside are always important. Step(s): Performing a Deed. 2 Acumen reward. The organization might want to test your worth, or this might be a ceremony you must take part in. It might include paying some sort of dues or fee. Or all of these things. Climax: Proving Your Worth. 2 Acumen reward. This is the point at which you attempt to show the organization that they would be better off with you as a member. A successful resolution results in 1 Joy. Failure results in 1 Despair. Resolution: 1 Acumen reward. You consider your efforts and assess what your membership gets you. : The decision to join For now, I remain ignorant that I'm being considered for invitation. Aid a Friend Aldrion Phect wishes to rescue his spouse from Shadow, but first he must Uncover the Secret of how such a task might even be possible. I'm too closeted a romantic to tell him I can't resist helping somebody reunite with their loved one. Current StepSomeone needs your help. When a PC friend takes a character arc, you can select this arc to help them with whatever their arc is (if appropriate). The steps and climax depend entirely on their chosen arc. If the friend is an NPC, the steps and climax are lifted from another arc appropriate to whatever they seek to do. If you have a bond with the friend you are helping, this may increase the Acumen earned with each story point by 1. It’s difficult, but possible, to aid a friend with an arc even if that friend is unwilling to accept (or is ignorant of ) your help. The majority of the cost, story points, and rewards for a character with this arc are the same as those described in the original character arc. Cost: Agreeing to Help. You pay a cost of 2 Acumen. Opening: Answering the Call. 1 Acumen reward. Offering to help (or responding to a request for help). Step(s) and Climax: Depends on the friend’s arc. Acumen, Joy, and Despair rewards are the same for you as for the friend. Resolution: 1 Acumen reward. You speak with your friend and learn if they are satisfied. Together, you share what you’ve learned (if anything) and where you will go from here.: Agreeing to help I've agreed to help, but Aldrion and I haven't discussed it further. Description Appearance Xanah and the possessions on her person lose color saturation in proportion to her amount of sunlight exposure. She's completely grayscale in broad daylight. She otherwise sports a head of medium-length red-brown hair, copper colored eyes, and a fair complexion. Xanah is of unremarkable height and build, a slim physique that belies a lifetime of overindulging. It's only her constantly moving workaholic ethic that keeps her in shape. Her clothing usually favors practicality and comfort, never one to indulge in fashionable fads. Ever conscientious of her habits, Xanah always smells faintly of cinnamon and spice. Personality Lives on coffee, cigars, and favors. Fiercely individualist to a fault. A tarnished heart of gold. Tendency to overindulge. A patron of lost causes, shooter of troubles, slayer of dragons, walker of tightropes, and runner with scissors. Banned from kitchens across the Actuality for abject culinary incompetence. Never met a stranger before but carefully chooses close friendships A closeted romantic, almost disgustingly so. Her sharp tongue and compulsion to kick hornets' nests and turn over rocks makes many enemies. In her Order she's been demoted twice for it. Occupation Xanah describes herself as "creatively entrepreneurial," which is to say she doesn't actually have a traditional occupation. As previously mentioned, she lives off favors. These keep her constantly busy juggling a tangled web of commitments, investments, activism, and odd-jobs that she's perfectly satisfied living in the middle of. Income can be wildly inconsistent, but she's never been one to require much in the way of creature comforts. She's just as likely to blow a windfall on a hopeless cause as she is to devote it to a strategic endeavor. "Money," she says, "is just a means to an end, grease for the skids." She toys with the idea of running for office but talks herself out of it, saying that nobody would vote for her anyway. Despite her modest self-assessment, the growing network of contacts she's been developing suggests she might get more support than she realizes. Dichotomies Wealth or Fame - "It's all in who you know." Friends or Family - "I don't make close friends easy, but the few I have are basically family." Power or Control - "I'm the spider dead center in the web." Introvert or Extrovert - "There's nothing I love more than good company." Order or Chaos - "A little strategic chaos keeps the omnipotent busybodies from getting too comfortable." Freedom or Safety - "'Live free or die trying', I say." Society or the Individual - "Society is people. Make a difference for one and you make a different society." Generosity or Greed - "You give a little to get a little. Sometimes, well...sometimes people need me to give a little more." Moral code or Instinct - "Scruples are what separates man from the animals." Ego or Id - "Can't honestly say I've ever been accused of temperance or self control." Nature or Nurture - "Pro tip: Yes, it's your fault and you can do better." Thought or Action - "I'm a make-it-up-as-you-go kind of gal." Instinct or Knowledge - "My gut has never let me down about what the right thing to do is." Charity or Self-sufficiency - "Everybody needs somebody sometime." Home or the Road - "Give me a warm house and somebody to share it with on all the days that end in 'Y'." Contentment or Challenge - "Look, I don't go crusading for lost causes. They seek me out. They know I"m easy." Pools Injuries: [ ] [ ] [ ] Wounds: [ ] [ ] [ ] Anguish: [ ] [ ] [ ] CERTES QUALIA Accuracy: 3/3 Movement: 1/1 Sorcery: 5/5 Interaction: 4/4 Physicality: 3/3 Perception: 4/4 Intelligence: 1/1 Sortilege: 3/3 Hidden Knowledge: 12 Rests: 1 round, 1 round, 10 minutes, 1 hour Name xDiceName xDiceResult xDiceString xDiceRolls Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
TheRaconteur Posted February 17 Author Clone Share Posted February 17 (edited) Chapter I - Act I: A Shitty Start Sooth Deck: The Cat Effects: None Divination: "One sometimes must act alone to succeed. Curiosity and cleverness can be virtues, but be wary of taking them too far. A challenge may arise that involves both mental and physical dexterity." The Raven eyed her, hoping forward only to nip at her sleeve and retreat. Gathering its courage, it beat its wings again, and at her beckoning invitation flutters its way onto her shoulder. It clucked and gurgled, and from the enchantment she had consumed she knew that these were appreciative noises. At her query, it looked down at itself, then back up at her. Contemplative, it considered the question for several long breaths, eventually arriving at an answer. "Broken-wing." It sung, and the name was a song. The oil on her lips translated the bird's croaks and warbles, granting her insight into the meaning and intent of what they were saying. They spoke though, they did not sing. This though, this was different. When the Raven said the words she understood intuitively that they were always meant to be sung. She could not have articulated the difference, the Indigo magic granted her understanding but not insight, yet it was there.Had that always been the bird's name? A title born of prophecy perhaps? Or else names amongst the Ravens were transitory things, dependent upon the story or perhaps even the whim on the one speaking them. "To-wind, to-breeze, to-current, to-flight." Words again, a gentle beckoning. Telling her to take to the sky, and cast off the shackles of gravity which bound her to Fartown. A problem then, and one to which she was not being given the solution. "She suspects." Ma'am answered, adding a spritz of lemon to Xanah's tea. "But I see what you're saying, and that's a problem. The only way to know for sure is to ask the one whose name's been stolen. This little darling hasn't been willing to risk the crossing to the Nest in the daylight, so she doesn't know." She held out her hand towards Aldrion, offering to let the other Vislae discharge their arachnid passenger into her keeping. "I don't know if the Ravens will attack you on sight, they certainly don't seem to be a fan of me. Then again, considering I planted Giir herself in the Nest, I can't suppose I blame them." Only Aldrion had been there when she'd mentioned the Brood of Giir before, so only he would have caught then name. Yet all three present would have heard the rumors that surrounded the Spider's Nest, specifically the rumors around the origins of the structure's name. Ma'am's hair was pearlescent rather than white, as the woman appeared singularly attracted to iridescence in her aesthetic, but at a distance mistaking one for the other was more than understandable. "You could always go ask them yourselves, that's surely where they'd be holed up." She said with a concerned smile. Which, if what she said were true, would explain why Shuistliel had felt such an absence that morning. Their home's true inhabitant might very well have fled, leaving them the sole occupant. Edited February 17 by TheRaconteur (see edit history) Name xDiceName xDiceResult xDiceString xDiceRolls Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Aavarius Posted February 17 Clone Share Posted February 17 Xanah The tea Xanah accepted with both hands, bowing slightly and thanking with her trademark amiable smile. It didn't really matter that she was already buzzing on a shameful quantity of strong coffee. Her blood was about seventy percent caffeine by volume in its natural state. She was going to drink it anyway, a perfectly sociable addiction if ever there was one. Patiently she steeped the leaves and waited for the hot, bitter drink to be ready. In the meantime, it was a good way to keep her fingers warm. "Mhm," she intoned with her lips closed. "Probably...safest not to be neighborly unless we have to. For the two-legs, that is." "But it seems we have a clear objective: return a name to end a war in the streets." Xanah was making a lot of assumptions here about those present, namely to assume they had any intention at all of pursuing this. "We" carried a lot of weight in that declaration. Ma'am was already too in-the-know to be anything but deeply involved. Shuistliel she might be able to convince out of some sort of shared professional obligation. Aldrion was already one of her "clients" for lack of a better term. Wasn't it she that was supposed to be helping him and not the other way round? Regardless, Xanah seemed to be operating under the belief that there was some sort of common duty shared among everyone. That, by reputation, was how she always comported herself. It wasn't a surprise to anyone who knew her even a little bit that she would believe such a thing. Without missing a beat she continued forthwith. "With no disrespect intended toward the little one, I am reminded of the truism that there are three sides to every story: one side, the other, and the truth. It might help to have a chat with someone who is...corvidophilic.* If you can forgive the term." * I'm trying to engineer an excuse to go get Felicia involved. Not that Xanah knows what Felicia is up to, of course. I'm just tying to give us a reason to bump into her talking to ravens. Character Arcs Join an Organization As an arachnophile, I'm being groomed to join the Cacophony, an association of spiders whose name only really makes sense to spiders. They seek to establish diplomatic ties with the Angular Serpentine. Current StepYou want to join an organization. This likely is not an order, since vislae start the game already belonging to an order if they wish it. Vislae often join other organizations as well, however, and this arc is a great way to portray that. Cost: The Decision to Join. You pay a cost of 2 Acumen. Opening: Getting the Details. 1 Acumen reward. You learn all you can about the organization and how one becomes a member. Step(s): Making a Contact. 1 Acumen reward. Friends on the inside are always important. Step(s): Performing a Deed. 2 Acumen reward. The organization might want to test your worth, or this might be a ceremony you must take part in. It might include paying some sort of dues or fee. Or all of these things. Climax: Proving Your Worth. 2 Acumen reward. This is the point at which you attempt to show the organization that they would be better off with you as a member. A successful resolution results in 1 Joy. Failure results in 1 Despair. Resolution: 1 Acumen reward. You consider your efforts and assess what your membership gets you. : The decision to join For now, I remain ignorant that I'm being considered for invitation. Aid a Friend Aldrion Phect wishes to rescue his spouse from Shadow, but first he must Uncover the Secret of how such a task might even be possible. I'm too closeted a romantic to tell him I can't resist helping somebody reunite with their loved one. Current StepSomeone needs your help. When a PC friend takes a character arc, you can select this arc to help them with whatever their arc is (if appropriate). The steps and climax depend entirely on their chosen arc. If the friend is an NPC, the steps and climax are lifted from another arc appropriate to whatever they seek to do. If you have a bond with the friend you are helping, this may increase the Acumen earned with each story point by 1. It’s difficult, but possible, to aid a friend with an arc even if that friend is unwilling to accept (or is ignorant of ) your help. The majority of the cost, story points, and rewards for a character with this arc are the same as those described in the original character arc. Cost: Agreeing to Help. You pay a cost of 2 Acumen. Opening: Answering the Call. 1 Acumen reward. Offering to help (or responding to a request for help). Step(s) and Climax: Depends on the friend’s arc. Acumen, Joy, and Despair rewards are the same for you as for the friend. Resolution: 1 Acumen reward. You speak with your friend and learn if they are satisfied. Together, you share what you’ve learned (if anything) and where you will go from here.: Agreeing to help I've agreed to help, but Aldrion and I haven't discussed it further. Description Appearance Xanah and the possessions on her person lose color saturation in proportion to her amount of sunlight exposure. She's completely grayscale in broad daylight. She otherwise sports a head of medium-length red-brown hair, copper colored eyes, and a fair complexion. Xanah is of unremarkable height and build, a slim physique that belies a lifetime of overindulging. It's only her constantly moving workaholic ethic that keeps her in shape. Her clothing usually favors practicality and comfort, never one to indulge in fashionable fads. Ever conscientious of her habits, Xanah always smells faintly of cinnamon and spice. Personality Lives on coffee, cigars, and favors. Fiercely individualist to a fault. A tarnished heart of gold. Tendency to overindulge. A patron of lost causes, shooter of troubles, slayer of dragons, walker of tightropes, and runner with scissors. Banned from kitchens across the Actuality for abject culinary incompetence. Never met a stranger before but carefully chooses close friendships A closeted romantic, almost disgustingly so. Her sharp tongue and compulsion to kick hornets' nests and turn over rocks makes many enemies. In her Order she's been demoted twice for it. Occupation Xanah describes herself as "creatively entrepreneurial," which is to say she doesn't actually have a traditional occupation. As previously mentioned, she lives off favors. These keep her constantly busy juggling a tangled web of commitments, investments, activism, and odd-jobs that she's perfectly satisfied living in the middle of. Income can be wildly inconsistent, but she's never been one to require much in the way of creature comforts. She's just as likely to blow a windfall on a hopeless cause as she is to devote it to a strategic endeavor. "Money," she says, "is just a means to an end, grease for the skids." She toys with the idea of running for office but talks herself out of it, saying that nobody would vote for her anyway. Despite her modest self-assessment, the growing network of contacts she's been developing suggests she might get more support than she realizes. Dichotomies Wealth or Fame - "It's all in who you know." Friends or Family - "I don't make close friends easy, but the few I have are basically family." Power or Control - "I'm the spider dead center in the web." Introvert or Extrovert - "There's nothing I love more than good company." Order or Chaos - "A little strategic chaos keeps the omnipotent busybodies from getting too comfortable." Freedom or Safety - "'Live free or die trying', I say." Society or the Individual - "Society is people. Make a difference for one and you make a different society." Generosity or Greed - "You give a little to get a little. Sometimes, well...sometimes people need me to give a little more." Moral code or Instinct - "Scruples are what separates man from the animals." Ego or Id - "Can't honestly say I've ever been accused of temperance or self control." Nature or Nurture - "Pro tip: Yes, it's your fault and you can do better." Thought or Action - "I'm a make-it-up-as-you-go kind of gal." Instinct or Knowledge - "My gut has never let me down about what the right thing to do is." Charity or Self-sufficiency - "Everybody needs somebody sometime." Home or the Road - "Give me a warm house and somebody to share it with on all the days that end in 'Y'." Contentment or Challenge - "Look, I don't go crusading for lost causes. They seek me out. They know I"m easy." Pools Injuries: [ ] [ ] [ ] Wounds: [ ] [ ] [ ] Anguish: [ ] [ ] [ ] CERTES QUALIA Accuracy: 3/3 Movement: 1/1 Sorcery: 5/5 Interaction: 4/4 Physicality: 3/3 Perception: 4/4 Intelligence: 1/1 Sortilege: 3/3 Hidden Knowledge: 12 Rests: 1 round, 1 round, 10 minutes, 1 hour Name xDiceName xDiceResult xDiceString xDiceRolls Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ganurath Posted February 18 Clone Share Posted February 18 Aldrion Phect Liel's suspicions were more or less in line with Aldrion's own. The incomplete picture didn't do anything to explain what the ravens were doing, or why. Still, that the Spiders were missing their names was a very real problem, from what he was observing from those closer to them struggling with the issue. If there was deception in play, the Spiders were more likely to be the suckers than the cons. Aldrion extended his arm at Ma'am's prompting, happy to be able to discharge his passenger. He tried to be accommodating, but the language barrier meant that he wasn't the most capable host here. Once the spider was out, he pulled his scarf down to reveal a thin moustache and beard before giving the tea a sip, which made him frown slightly. In retrospect, he should've expected an element of bitterness to be inevitable, from Ma'am's warning. He extended the cup toward her and spoke softly enough to not interrupt Xanah. "Cream, please?" Xanah, who raised a point that reminded Aldrion of something he'd heard earlier. "Someone who can speak their language would be useful for figuring out their motives, at least. I doubt getting the Spiders' names back would do anything to calm them down, otherwise. Fortunately, I heard a certain someone demonstrating that skill on the other side of Ma'am's hedge before the ravens descended." Character Arcs Uncover a SecretThere is knowledge out there that you want. This arc is a great way to get one of the secrets in the chapter Character and House Secrets that the GM has said aren’t readily available. Likewise, it could be an attempt to find and learn a specific rare spell or ritual. This could also be a hunt for a lost magic word or key that will open a sealed door, the name of a devil, the secret name of an important person, or just how the arabast fashioned their windows in ancient times. Cost: Seeker. You pay a cost of 2 Acumen. Opening: Naming the Secret. 1 Acumen reward. You give your goal a name. “I am seeking the lost martial art of the Khendrix, who could slice steel with their bare hands.” Step(s): Research. 1 Acumen reward. You scour libraries and old tomes for clues and information. Step(s): Investigation. 1 Acumen reward. You talk to people to gain clues and information. Step(s): Tracking. 1 Acumen reward. You track down the source of the secret information and travel to it. Climax: Revelation. 2 Acumen reward. You find and attempt to use the secret, whatever that entails. A successful resolution results in 1 Joy. Failure results in 1 Despair. Resolution: 1 Acumen reward. You contemplate how this secret affects you and the world. - Current Step: Seeker CleanseSomeone or something has been contaminated, probably by foul magic, and you want to rid them of such influences. This might be a curse, a possession, an infestation, or something else. Cost: Becoming Aware of the Need. You pay a cost of 2 Acumen. Opening: Analyzing the Threat. 1 Acumen reward. You determine the nature of the contamination. Step: Find the Solution. 2 Acumen reward. Almost every contamination has its own particular solution, and this likely involves research and consultation. Step: Getting Ready. 1 Acumen reward. The solution probably involves materials, spells, or other things that you must gather and prepare. Climax: The Cleansing. 3 Acumen reward. You confront the contamination. A successful resolution results in 1 Joy. Failure results in 1 Despair. Resolution: 1 Acumen reward. You reflect on the events that have transpired and what effects they might have on the future. How can you keep this from happening again? - Current Step: Analyzing the Threat Description Aldrion prefers to cover up, as his time in the Shadow working in repairs instilled him with an appreciation of proper protection. He has a scar over one eyebrow, presumably from a narrow miss taken during the war. He favors a style that mixes plain colors with the odd splash of supernatural hues, often in shades of or near indigo in representation of his newfound appreciation for the truth. Pools Certes Accuracy: 2/2 Movement: 3/3 Physicality: 2/2 Perception: 2/2 Qualia Sorcery: 8/8 Interaction: 3/3 Intellect: 3/3 Sortilege: 3/3 Hidden Knowledge: 12 Injuries: Wounds: Anguish: Rests: 1 round, 1 round, 10 minutes, 1 hour Name xDiceName xDiceResult xDiceString xDiceRolls Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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