Burning Heretics OOC
Jack of Tales
First Post
Yup. Same stats as horses but they bite instead of stomp (can still trample). Caribou are same as horses.
And no I don't really keep track of bedrolls/food/etc. There's enough book-keeping without keeping track of something so..minor in the grand scheme.
And no I don't really keep track of bedrolls/food/etc. There's enough book-keeping without keeping track of something so..minor in the grand scheme.
Scott DeWar
Prof. Emeritus-Supernatural Events/Countermeasure
i will haave to post tomorrow morn...fear not j oof t, i am not M.I.A.
Jack of Tales
First Post
Vincent Wyce --Adventurer Extroadinaire or Utter Fool?
I started to write a story on Vincent. Here's a small taste of it. I don't have many plans to finish it although I may if anyone wants me to lol. I typically write the beginnings of stories for characters and rarely finish them. Anyway, here we go:
The wooden table could easily seat twelve people with plenty of elbow room. The surface was scratched but still held that new look that told you it hadn’t been in serious use for but a few weeks. The table was crowded with a variety of people from humans to elves and even a large, broad shouldered goliath. The nearby fireplace was crackling and warmed the room up against the outside cold. Everyone’s focus was on one man seated at the head of the table next to a pretty young blonde. He had short, dark hair and was drinking wine out of chipped and worn wooden mug. He was speaking with words slightly blurred from the wine in his system. “If you liked that last story, then you’ll love this next one. Let me tell you about the first shapeshifter I ever met…”
A merchant wagon rumbled down the muddy road in a fine Keldonian morning. It was autumn and the nearby pines were still as green as ever. A fine sheen of slush squished beneath the heavy wooden wheels. The red painted sides of the wagon bore a multicolored feather, the symbol for the Prismatic Plumes merchant guild. Two men sat in the front of the wagon discussing the weather over a warm cup of tea.
The man on the left was skinny and dressed in tan linens and a heavy woolen coat. A purple hat was slanted across his brow with a large blue feather dangling from the top. It perched atop his bald head. His face was content and filled with aged lines. A bushy black caterpillar was crawling across his upper lip; or so it appeared. I never did like the look of those heavy mustaches the Timorien’s wore. The man’s name was Falken and he was talking about how warm it had been recently in Temain, the district we were traveling through. For the past three ten-days I’d been his ever constant companion as he traveled from town to town collecting guild dues from people he knew.
“Really, Falken. Every morning is the same with you. Awake at nine, tea by ten and walking by eleven. As soon as we get moving you start talking about the weather first, then the last trade you made and then our next destination. It’s like clockwork with you. How do you manage?”
Falken looked at me and laughed with that booming, deep laughter you expect to come from a man of three hundred pounds, not one-eighty. “Vincent, Vincent! You amuse me to no end. I am so glad that Miss Decraic insisted on me hiring you to come along. What would I do without your gleeful face in the morning?” This comment earned him a nasty look. I hated mornings. But it was hard to hate Falken; he simply had this air about him that made him so damn un-hateable. I opened my mouth for a smart retort and barely noticed the black streak by my face. Reacting on instinct I ducked and pushed Falken down to the bench. A slim arrow struck the wooden wagon behind us with a solid sound. If I had been a moment too slow…well that's just a depressing thought, isn't it?
I started to write a story on Vincent. Here's a small taste of it. I don't have many plans to finish it although I may if anyone wants me to lol. I typically write the beginnings of stories for characters and rarely finish them. Anyway, here we go:
The wooden table could easily seat twelve people with plenty of elbow room. The surface was scratched but still held that new look that told you it hadn’t been in serious use for but a few weeks. The table was crowded with a variety of people from humans to elves and even a large, broad shouldered goliath. The nearby fireplace was crackling and warmed the room up against the outside cold. Everyone’s focus was on one man seated at the head of the table next to a pretty young blonde. He had short, dark hair and was drinking wine out of chipped and worn wooden mug. He was speaking with words slightly blurred from the wine in his system. “If you liked that last story, then you’ll love this next one. Let me tell you about the first shapeshifter I ever met…”
A merchant wagon rumbled down the muddy road in a fine Keldonian morning. It was autumn and the nearby pines were still as green as ever. A fine sheen of slush squished beneath the heavy wooden wheels. The red painted sides of the wagon bore a multicolored feather, the symbol for the Prismatic Plumes merchant guild. Two men sat in the front of the wagon discussing the weather over a warm cup of tea.
The man on the left was skinny and dressed in tan linens and a heavy woolen coat. A purple hat was slanted across his brow with a large blue feather dangling from the top. It perched atop his bald head. His face was content and filled with aged lines. A bushy black caterpillar was crawling across his upper lip; or so it appeared. I never did like the look of those heavy mustaches the Timorien’s wore. The man’s name was Falken and he was talking about how warm it had been recently in Temain, the district we were traveling through. For the past three ten-days I’d been his ever constant companion as he traveled from town to town collecting guild dues from people he knew.
“Really, Falken. Every morning is the same with you. Awake at nine, tea by ten and walking by eleven. As soon as we get moving you start talking about the weather first, then the last trade you made and then our next destination. It’s like clockwork with you. How do you manage?”
Falken looked at me and laughed with that booming, deep laughter you expect to come from a man of three hundred pounds, not one-eighty. “Vincent, Vincent! You amuse me to no end. I am so glad that Miss Decraic insisted on me hiring you to come along. What would I do without your gleeful face in the morning?” This comment earned him a nasty look. I hated mornings. But it was hard to hate Falken; he simply had this air about him that made him so damn un-hateable. I opened my mouth for a smart retort and barely noticed the black streak by my face. Reacting on instinct I ducked and pushed Falken down to the bench. A slim arrow struck the wooden wagon behind us with a solid sound. If I had been a moment too slow…well that's just a depressing thought, isn't it?
G
Guest 11456
Guest
Jack of Tales said:
I'm a bit confused. Has Geriant already acted in round 2, before everyone else?
Jack of Tales
First Post
No he just posted his actions first. When everyone else posts their actions for round 2 then I'll include them. If you look at his post he stated that he'd move in until he could charge, then charge and included in there the rolls for it. A few of you also stated what you wanted to do but did not include any rolls for it.
Jack of Tales
First Post
Their still four legged. Think more fell drake less dinosaur. Caller drakes come in non-combat, riding forms (Lesser Callers) and as Greater Caller Drakes (Heavy warhorse). There's also a flying breed but only royalty or generals can get access to those.
What's more interesting is the guild itself. The process to buy a drake requires various papers, stamps and you get your own personal badge dictating which drake belongs to you. Thus if it ever gets stolen, it is easy to find the drake. The guild also likes to know where your drake is. Always. Inns and such don't have stables only guildhouses do. As such you pretty much 'register' your drake whenever you go to a place that has a guild stable. Somehow whenever a drake is stolen it always ends up back in the owners hands. The guild does not take well to anyone stealing what they still consider their property. The Rider or Caller guild is also the premier information guild. They know -everything-. They don't allow anyone else to breed the drakes either. Anyone who has tried mysteriously disappears. It's also rare to see a dead drake, there are some rumors that the guild simply resurrects dead drakes or animates them and paints over the scales to make them look alive.
EDIT: Bihlbo, in all the games that I've played in so far people have always posted their actions along with the occasional substitute action in case their target dies. So unless you feel strongly on the matter feel free to post your turn whenever. Especially since your the first player to go. I do not like to post the combat phase until all actions have been resolved. That is when I'll post up what enemies/NPCs do. It cuts down on the amount of posting a DM has to do in a combat. Think, if I had 2-3 posts per round we'd be up to our ears in pages of combat!
What's more interesting is the guild itself. The process to buy a drake requires various papers, stamps and you get your own personal badge dictating which drake belongs to you. Thus if it ever gets stolen, it is easy to find the drake. The guild also likes to know where your drake is. Always. Inns and such don't have stables only guildhouses do. As such you pretty much 'register' your drake whenever you go to a place that has a guild stable. Somehow whenever a drake is stolen it always ends up back in the owners hands. The guild does not take well to anyone stealing what they still consider their property. The Rider or Caller guild is also the premier information guild. They know -everything-. They don't allow anyone else to breed the drakes either. Anyone who has tried mysteriously disappears. It's also rare to see a dead drake, there are some rumors that the guild simply resurrects dead drakes or animates them and paints over the scales to make them look alive.
EDIT: Bihlbo, in all the games that I've played in so far people have always posted their actions along with the occasional substitute action in case their target dies. So unless you feel strongly on the matter feel free to post your turn whenever. Especially since your the first player to go. I do not like to post the combat phase until all actions have been resolved. That is when I'll post up what enemies/NPCs do. It cuts down on the amount of posting a DM has to do in a combat. Think, if I had 2-3 posts per round we'd be up to our ears in pages of combat!
Last edited:
Similar Threads
