Metropolis - The World in Waiting (Full)

[Phoenix]

Very intrested. Sounds a little like bit like House from the OtherLand series of novels, or the Eternal Chicago from The Time Swept City. I've got a few concepts in cooking already, but what's level of magic and technology in this place? I'm thinking rouge/ranger mix for class, but that depends largely on how I hammer out my concept. Will the characters have a history together or are we starting out strangers? What are the pseudo-authorities in a given area, gangs, churches, faction like orginizations, fraternities?

*edit*-almost forgot, what are the status of the Demi-humans in the slums, & in the upper-class (if differint)? Are generic racial tension's still the rule of thumb?

I'd love to tangle with a small amount of Steampunk, but would not want to scare away any players that would prefer a pure fantasy approach to the setting. As for the organizations, I have a few in mind, but I would rather prefer that PCs generate their own religions and organizations that I can use (invests in the world).

I'll go with generic racial tension at the moment I think. Elves I'd say would be a little rare perhaps, but again I think I'd like to see each individual's view on the social ladder in relation to their character (if any) before I set anything in stone.

If anyone would like to know each other, feel free. There will be a general 'Call to Arms' so to speak, but if it will be more realistic for people to be colleagues, that is also just dandy.

I think that I'll drop the Steampunk influences for the moment, they may grow later (slowly) but for now whats say we keep it simple?

Also remember, in a city of 10 million+, there are a LOT of organizations and petty rulers to contend or ally with. Anything from Street Gangs to Kings (a noble title for ruling 20,000 people in a city).

 

[Phoenix]

Alright, alright, I think I've got it all in one piece.

Alexis's family is big. They're rich, well-known, and notorious. They run the largest church to Wee Jas in known Metropolis, and they abuse it. They control most of the sewer-farms in the area, and have their fingers dipped in nearly every market they can get their hands on. Their temple is a massive, black tower, one that reaches nearly thirty stories into the sky [or higher, depending on the average size of buildings in Metropolis - it should be *very* big.], and just as far underground. Most people despise the Order of Wee Jas [or Other] for one primary reason - their abuse of an unfair advantage makes it difficult for others to get ahead. Indeed, the Temple has very few living employees, having hired only clerics and clerks from the ranks of the living. When more employees are needed [which happens to be all the time], a pathetic sum is offered in return for corpses. This gives rise to scroungers who scavenge the city for the dead.

Alexis is young, and has only recently begun her training as a cleric. She lives in the upper recesses of the Tower, with her mother and father, the High Priestess and Priest of the temple, respectively. She doesn't yet realize how corrupt her parents and their way of life is, and honestly believes what they do is for the best. "We help to keep food on the plates and gold in the pockets of the people!"

Despite her role as the only child and heir to the massive corporation, Alexis has no real desire [or know-how] to take over the company. Instead, she wants more 'real-life' experience, and is just becoming old enough to indulge herself in it.


How's that look? I guess I might've gone overboard with the Temple.

I like it, build on the idea for sure. Take out Wee Jas though, I'd like each player to construct their own diety. The setout is fine (even the temple), and being the heir to such a 'Corporation' is fine, as long as you can of course pull the back story off. Build on it a little more and I'll love it.

 

[Bront]

I'm interested. I'm envisioning a halfling with a dire rat mount who defends his sewers from rival gangs. Not sure exactly how to go about it, but it just sounds cool. (I could go Druid, Ranger, or even Paladin, though that doesn't seem to fit as well. Sewer druid sounds fun though).

I'd be a comunity of halflings and maybe gnomes, growing what they can in the sewer (probably using magic to simulate sunlight), carving out their own little "Natural" nitch in the world.

I'll look at the best way to approach it and go into more detail later, but I think it could be a lot of fun.

 

[RobotRobotI]

Very well. I'll go into a bit more detail regarding Alexis for now, and I'll add additional information regarding the Temple and the Deity [who I think shall be called Zsath, the Lord of Souls.]

Background:Alexis has lived a sheltered life. Indeed, she's never been alone outside of her home, and she's never seen the reality of life in Metropolis. The few she's met outside of her family have been members of the aristocratic 'upper world' of Metropolis - and she believes that this is how everything is. She's naive and unknowing - she believes that raising the dead is a common practice, and indeed tends to be more comfortable around her zombie servitors than most other humans. She was raised mostly by a mentor appointed by her parents, a noteworthy priest in their esteemed order. His name was Vrisse, and he trained Alexis from an infant into her teen years. Most of what she knows of Necromancy comes from Vrisse, who proved to be a very capable tutor. He eventually fell ill, and joined the Ethereal plane as a ghost. His tutelage, however, did not stop, and Alexis still holds court with him regularly.

Alexis wants to see the world though, now. She's become a Priestess in her own right, and believes it is only best that she spread the Word of Zsath to others. Indeed, she's preparing to become a missionary of sorts, and hasn't the least idea as to what she'll be encountering.

(( How's that look? I'll give more information on Zsath and the Temple later tonight or tomorrow afternoon, depending on when I get back to the computer. ))

Zsath
Lord of Souls, The Ghostking, Spiritbanker
LAWFUL NEUTRAL

Zsath is known to commonfolk as 'The Spiritbanker', and it's no err; indeed, Zsath is believed to be in charge of who does or does not enter the afterlife. He has the power to return any soul to the Material Plane, and again the ability to trap them forever. It's believed that he keeps a collection of souls for his own amusement. The secrets of raising and becoming undead are often granted to his followers, more out of apathy than interest. Once a body is no longer in use, it is believed by his followers, there is no reason to leave a corpse to decay. Abuse of souls, however, is considered the highest of crimes by Zsath and his followers - indeed, it's a crime punishable by death in his Temples. This is not to say he opposes any other form of conflict; he believes that any physical damage is fair game. He teaches that extremes are a positive thing - if you are to be good, be good with all of your being, and if you are to be evil, be evil to the farthest extent possible. As such, necromancers and paladins are common among his followers, along with other people with power. Regardless of Good or Evil alignment, Zsath teaches that all agreements should be honored, and does believe that fairness is a most admirable quality. Thusly, lawyers and other people of the law can find a place under Zsath's leadership. Commoners are rare amongst his followers, as the extremes he teaches are often outside of their reach.

Portfolio: Law, Necromancy, Life, Death
Domains: Law, Death, Healing
Cleric Training: Clerics to Zsath are trained at the Temple of Zsath, a massive corporate tower. They're signed into contracts at the beginning of their servitude, and are required to remain with and serve the Temple for a given duration after their training. Although a Cleric may leave the temple at any time, after their training is complete, leaving the Temple and breaking the contract allows the Priests of Zsath to distill justice - usually left open-ended for creative punishment. Zsath approves of this, as those who go against their word deserve punishment in his view.
Quests: Followers of Zsath are not expected to spread his name, but rather, to do what they do and do it with all of their conviction.
Prayers: Zsath doesn't require his followers to pray, although it is expected of his priests. Prayer usually takes the form meditative thought, usually about ones own fate. It's important to Zsath that individuals - especially his followers - know what awaits them in the afterlife.
Temples: Zsath's only temple in Metropolis is the massive tower that is home to the Priests of Zsath. The building reaches high into the sky and deep into the earth. The majority of his followers here lean towards the Death portion of his portfolio, most of whom are Taskmasters for teams of zombie slaves.

 

[Bront]

Ok, after reading, looks like the Dire Rat might be too small unless you'd let me take a medium one as a 4th level companion. I'm liking the sewer druid concept though, so maybe he'll have a Crocodile (They live in the sewers, right?). I think he can ride that too.

I'll have to come up with a good name, but here's a rough background sketch.

TBA grew up with a great respect of his natural environment. The increadable echosystem of the Metropolis sewer system was his home. But he had always felt a special connection to the "land" and "nature" that few that lived in his village did. Under the tutalage of (TBA Mentor), he studdied and learned how to use his connection with nature. He spent time comunicating with the animals, often helping to aleviate some of the notable rat problem in the sewers, and help keep angry crocodiles and other creatures out of the village. He even managed to make friends with a (Croc, Dire Rat, ect) that eventualy began to accompany him wherever he went.

As he grew, he began to help defend his village, as well as the grove (TBA Mentor) maintained. The sewers were the home to several gangs who fought constantly over teritory. The town had little need for expansion, but defending their crops and their land from these gangs was becoming tougher and tougher. TBA and his pet made for a fearsome image, and made the gangs think twice before they would come to attack. TBA found he could summon the help of other creatures, and often relied on his "army of nature".

TBA has helped train several others (likely rangers), though they are not as skilled nor as in tune with nature as he is, they respect the land, the animals, and their people, and become central to the defense of the town.

TBA felt that he needed to explore beyond his home, and try to help set up more trade with the city above. The overlanders are strange to him, apparently many were appauled about where he lived. He'll keep trying though, for his village needs him.

---------
His small village of gnomes and halflings grew what food they could under their magicly crafted light gems (gems that emit sunlight equivilent for 12 hours, then grow dim and rak for 12 hours while they recharge), and the sewers brought plenty of fertilizer. The small well had been carefully dug to draw water from a spring deep under the sewers, and was reinforced to keep other sewage out.
------

I'll rewrite it later to make it clearer, but this was my thought.

 

[RobotRobotI]

Hm.

I wonder if Bront's little sewer society would be roughed up by the Temple's zombie-farmers.

Maybe maybe it's a plot hook. Maybe.

 

[Bront]

Sounds like fun.

Honestly, I find my concept worth a few laughs, but it works quite well in this setting (And nothing wrong with a few laughs). The sight of a halfling riding a dire rat or crocodile through the sewers should have his opponents laughing in fear.

I'd think your zombies would probably beat up the gangs well before they'd find us, but you never know.

Do your undead farmers have problems with undead rodents? Ever find carrots with all the color drained out of them?

 

[Cathoi]

- Jumping into this with both feet, all subject to your discretion of course-


================================================
Metropolis, like any other city, has its secrets. They are magnified by her size, enriched by the desperation of her inhabitants, and carried over innumerable streets like the alchemical drugs distributed by the minute inside her thick walls; secrets too dark for a natural scenery. But these same secrets are not content to stay locked within, be their barriers that of a house, the granduer of the Metropolis Walls, or the shell of a human skull. If not allowed to to enwrap others in intrigue, a secret will warp its weilder instead. Snake and twist darker still, until there is nothing left of the individual but the secret. In Metropolis, secrets like this have a mind of their own; indeed, lives of their own.
================================================

Naten (Pronounced Nathan) Khea was a man working under the power of one of those secrets, in fact one wouldn't be completely incorrect in calling it The Secret, the architects. Beings, half-sentients, Gods?, who are whispered of by the crazed and the focus of more then a few Metropolis nursery rhymes, at least in the known reaches of the City. A Fairy tale? Definately, but all nursery rhymes have a degree of truth in them, or the fancy of truth, that's why they're told to children anyway.
Looking for that kind of secret in Colliseum district though could cost one their head, amongst other things. Here history had to be forgotten...in the hopes that sanity would come in its place. It had been nearly unanimously, democratically decided by the already ignorant masses that the Colliseum district would have no history. Those who lived within the Mosh district had rolled out property deeds and kicked out the less fortunate, a few days of rioting in a small quarter, and then quiet. A walled ghetto within an impovershed city, but Colliseum at least could fend for its own, every detail had been meticulously planned out to create absolutely no change what-so-ever, this was the only way for the starving district to survive. Knowledge would become obsolete, Colliseum disctrict had taken just about all it could stand of progress. The starving would remain starving, the poor would remain poor, and the prosperous would have exactly what they wanted, security.

In the upper echelons of Colliseums old nobility however, something was stiring. Peasents and political idealists were content with their parts, little machines in a big city. The old families had always kept distractions to fall back on; gang warfare, competitive art and theatre, architectual outdoings, but closed away within their own mansions each now had too much time for brooding, thusly did their eccentricies grow.
It started out as little games, miniature conspiracy theories about magic and creation and the families own part within the whole of Metropolis. Real murders were put on by families simply to watch the human drama unfold; homes, jobs, lives were ruined to indulge in whatever next sick whim struck one of the ruling Dons. Each petty family combed over libraries the ordinary populace had thought burned, each pedigree crept furthre into the madness of their fantasies, jaded by the dour mediocrity of industrial scenery. The common people had no central government to turn to once the nobiltiy struck against them, no choice but to dance to the strings since they had no idea whome to trust. In one of these Don's bouts of madness, a "prince" had discovered something truly awful, something truly secret within Colliseum, and maybe Metropolis on a whole.
When the dons played out their drama's, pretending to be a Seelie court or cosmic illithid just to relieve their boredom, they would occassionaly do enough damage to the normal populace to create leftovers from the lives crushed. Specifically, orphans; and Colliseum was rife with them.
They spilled out from tent cities inside decaying factories, they hopped from attic to attic simply for a relatively safe place to rest, they moved about Colliseum like strays, and like strays the fatherless children constantly being rouned up. Sometimes they were picked up by families who had lost their own, other times they were simply put down, not enough resources in the quarter support their mouths. When put into care, they were raised as normal citicenry, and took their place within Colliseum "Society", but when left to run amongst the alleys a buried instinct took over, some primal scavenger gene that allowed the orphans, children only, to thrive within the nooks and crannies. It was under this realization that the Don's found a new hobby.
Perhaps, reasoned the barmies, the children were cared for by Metropolis itself, by some preserving nature the children needed and the City simply fed that need. This is not so unnatural to think in a world of magic, besides, maybe it is a dormant god, or a benign fey that spread itself through out Metropolis, surely whatever force fed the thousands of orphans held by Colliseums walls must be a device of the Architects, and he who asked the Architects, so the stories go, could rule Metropolis, or even step outside its fabeled walls.
Ovejoyed at the new challenge, the Dons set about their new game with a gusto all thier own. Sides were picked and secret societies chosen, Lords and Ladies went on to pour their private fourtunes to seek an awnser to the riddle of Colliseums orphans. Thats where Netan comes in. He's a tacker, a bounty hunter, a "seeker" in the more polite and socialbe of circles. Netan finds the kids, sniffs 'em out of their hiding spots, and brings the espescially gifted our touched sniveling brats to go into the Dons institutions. There the Don's pseudo-wizards poke and prod 'em for info about the Architects and presumably feed 'em milk and cookies. What the hell ever. Not a bad racket considering the pay, though the hours blow he'd have saved up enough to retire nicely by fifty-five.
That's how it should've went too. Netan didn't need that priest of Urbanus knocking him out during a hunt, the priest and his cronies pulling him into one of the Don's "Facilities". They showed him what was done to the orphans. In a way he'd always suspected, murderers, crazed experiments into fear and response, living autopsies, Netan would have done just fine never knowing the fruit of his labor. Now witness to the horror of his acts, Netan of course changed allegiance against the Dons. A reluctant revolutionary, and a spy in the dark plots of the Dons.

Then came the night of "revolution". Netan was to lead the orphans to a safe place because he was the only one with the access to the childen. In one night of bluster and fire everything the Don's created was torn down around them, terrible bids of power were thrown to the wayside by riots and fire by peasents and political idealists. In that night of terrible wrath Netan was to lead them to sanctuary, away from the riots. He failed in this task.

A blow to the head, no-one would've seen it coming, but it doesn't stop him from blaming himself. He fell unconscous from the hit by the blackjack, miraculously saved while the whole city quarter burned to ashes. Waking in the smoke and ruin with only a feeling of jaded guilt, Netan can't help but think that the orphans were saved by some twist of the city, some shift in the alleys when none but a childs eyes were looking. And if he was saved as well...maybe he could find 'em, set the record straight and get on with life once they were cared for properly...maybe that would stop the cries of guilt and shame in the night.

Everything in Collisuem is in ruin now, already becoming haven for squatters as Netan scrounged for what resources he could find and set out in a random direction, twoards a City district in better repair then his former location of residence. Two short swords stowed in his pack and a list of two thousand needles in a miles wide haystack held in his grasp. This is so not how he envisioned his next 25 years.
=======================================

Netan Keha lvl 2 rouge, 2 ranger; human.

Hmmn, in retrospect I might've been a tidbit over-zealous...just a little. *shrug* oh well, feel free to use as much or as little of that as you wish, I'm adabtable.

 

[Phoenix]

Sounds like fun.

Honestly, I find my concept worth a few laughs, but it works quite well in this setting (And nothing wrong with a few laughs). The sight of a halfling riding a dire rat or crocodile through the sewers should have his opponents laughing in fear.

I'd think your zombies would probably beat up the gangs well before they'd find us, but you never know.

Do your undead farmers have problems with undead rodents? Ever find carrots with all the color drained out of them?

I like both of the characters so far. The idea of 'pocket' villages in the sewers under the city proper itself is very cool. The crocodile familiar is good, as it the rat. Really what it comes down to is that if the rat is really what you want to round out the character, I can bend the rules a little as well.

 

[Phoenix]

- Jumping into this with both feet, all subject to your discretion of course-


================================================
Metropolis, like any other city, has its secrets. They are magnified by her size, enriched by the desperation of her inhabitants, and carried over innumerable streets like the alchemical drugs distributed by the minute inside her thick walls; secrets too dark for a natural scenery. But these same secrets are not content to stay locked within, be their barriers that of a house, the granduer of the Metropolis Walls, or the shell of a human skull. If not allowed to to enwrap others in intrigue, a secret will warp its weilder instead. Snake and twist darker still, until there is nothing left of the individual but the secret. In Metropolis, secrets like this have a mind of their own; indeed, lives of their own.
================================================

Naten (Pronounced Nathan) Khea was a man working under the power of one of those secrets, in fact one wouldn't be completely incorrect in calling it The Secret, the architects. Beings, half-sentients, Gods?, who are whispered of by the crazed and the focus of more then a few Metropolis nursery rhymes, at least in the known reaches of the City. A Fairy tale? Definately, but all nursery rhymes have a degree of truth in them, or the fancy of truth, that's why they're told to children anyway.
Looking for that kind of secret in Colliseum district though could cost one their head, amongst other things. Here history had to be forgotten...in the hopes that sanity would come in its place. It had been nearly unanimously, democratically decided by the already ignorant masses that the Colliseum district would have no history. Those who lived within the Mosh district had rolled out property deeds and kicked out the less fortunate, a few days of rioting in a small quarter, and then quiet. A walled ghetto within an impovershed city, but Colliseum at least could fend for its own, every detail had been meticulously planned out to create absolutely no change what-so-ever, this was the only way for the starving district to survive. Knowledge would become obsolete, Colliseum disctrict had taken just about all it could stand of progress. The starving would remain starving, the poor would remain poor, and the prosperous would have exactly what they wanted, security.

Everything in Collisuem is in ruin now, already becoming haven for squatters as Netan scrounged for what resources he could find and set out in a random direction, twoards a City district in better repair then his former location of residence. Two short swords stowed in his pack and a list of two thousand needles in a miles wide haystack held in his grasp. This is so not how he envisioned his next 25 years.
=======================================

Netan Keha lvl 2 rouge, 2 ranger; human.

Hmmn, in retrospect I might've been a tidbit over-zealous...just a little. *shrug* oh well, feel free to use as much or as little of that as you wish, I'm adabtable.

I like it, gives me some good ideas and your character some great back story...looking forward to it.

Methinks that if you three are eager, then we can get one more player and we'll be set to go.