Primitive Screwhead
First Post
DARK
When your grandfather was your age, the Empire spanned the continent. The roads between the farming communities and the cities where well maintained and patrolled. The monsters lived in the depths of the mountains and the dark recesses of the tanglewoods, and even then they were weak. Trade blossomed, the merchant class wielded the power of wealth, and the nobles’ largess was renowned. Colleges and churches were full of eager youngsters seeking learning and arts. It was the good old days.
Then the Empress was assassinated and civil war broke out. At first it was the military battles out on the battle plateaus, in keeping with the Tannahauser Accord. Then in desperation, Duke Leopold led his losing force into New Haven and took the citadel by force, killing all who were in his path. Blood was spilled in the streets and the cities became the battlegrounds. The warriors were too equal, so the Dukes turned to their advisors for power. Some asked for power regardless of the price. Alchemists brewed living death, cabals smithed eldritch weapons, and some called forth creatures from the depths of misery and pain.
Darkness spread across the empire, extinguishing the lights of one mighty city after another. The colleges and churches fell early. Ports and trade routes were next. Bridges and byways were destroyed. And then came the monsters. Out of the depths of the mountains, out of the dark recesses of the tanglewoods. Bigger and stronger than ever before.
In the aftermath, your grandfather helped carve out a small community in a relatively undamaged corner of what was once the Duchy of Cairn. Presumably other places like this one exist, hanging onto a fragile livelihood on the edge of destruction. There is time for naught but the work of keeping the community alive. Keep your eyes open, your blade sharp, and trust no-one whose mother you have not met. Stay away from the ruins, for things cling there. Magic is forbidden, for death always follows.
You have become one of the Walking Dead. Your funeral was a dreary affair, with fewer attending than you expected. It wasn't your choice, exactly. There was a lottery and your card was drawn. A child had come from outside, alone and starving, pleading for help. Jake killed her, of course. But now the town needs to know if there are others, and if anything is following her it will be up to you to draw its path away from here.
As your steps lead you over the rise, your eyes are drawn back to see the small grouping of houses, huddled against the oncoming night. It is the last time you will see this place. Your new brothers, continue down the path with a grim determination to make that Thing out there pay dearly for the lives that it took... The lives of the Walking Dead.
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Campaign notes: This is a game set in 'OLD', with a distinctly gothic-horror theme. The characters start out knowing nothing of the dangers they face beyond the tales told by their elders.
Evil is. When a lesser Evil joins forces with a greater Evil, they both gain power. Lesser Evils can feel the presence of a greater Evil in a gravity-pull sort of way. The rites to become a Walking Dead imbue the character with a Taint of Evil, enabling them to feel that presence… but the cost is great. Evil is not more powerful or dangerous… it’s just easier. Easier to draw on the Taint and let it grow than to suppress it.
Your job is to hunt Evil, without becoming Evil. You are not governed by any mortal law nor holden to any liege. Your sole master is the destruction of evil, which will eventually mean your own destruction at your hands, the hands of your brothers, or , God willing, the claws of some Thing..
When your grandfather was your age, the Empire spanned the continent. The roads between the farming communities and the cities where well maintained and patrolled. The monsters lived in the depths of the mountains and the dark recesses of the tanglewoods, and even then they were weak. Trade blossomed, the merchant class wielded the power of wealth, and the nobles’ largess was renowned. Colleges and churches were full of eager youngsters seeking learning and arts. It was the good old days.
Then the Empress was assassinated and civil war broke out. At first it was the military battles out on the battle plateaus, in keeping with the Tannahauser Accord. Then in desperation, Duke Leopold led his losing force into New Haven and took the citadel by force, killing all who were in his path. Blood was spilled in the streets and the cities became the battlegrounds. The warriors were too equal, so the Dukes turned to their advisors for power. Some asked for power regardless of the price. Alchemists brewed living death, cabals smithed eldritch weapons, and some called forth creatures from the depths of misery and pain.
Darkness spread across the empire, extinguishing the lights of one mighty city after another. The colleges and churches fell early. Ports and trade routes were next. Bridges and byways were destroyed. And then came the monsters. Out of the depths of the mountains, out of the dark recesses of the tanglewoods. Bigger and stronger than ever before.
In the aftermath, your grandfather helped carve out a small community in a relatively undamaged corner of what was once the Duchy of Cairn. Presumably other places like this one exist, hanging onto a fragile livelihood on the edge of destruction. There is time for naught but the work of keeping the community alive. Keep your eyes open, your blade sharp, and trust no-one whose mother you have not met. Stay away from the ruins, for things cling there. Magic is forbidden, for death always follows.
You have become one of the Walking Dead. Your funeral was a dreary affair, with fewer attending than you expected. It wasn't your choice, exactly. There was a lottery and your card was drawn. A child had come from outside, alone and starving, pleading for help. Jake killed her, of course. But now the town needs to know if there are others, and if anything is following her it will be up to you to draw its path away from here.
As your steps lead you over the rise, your eyes are drawn back to see the small grouping of houses, huddled against the oncoming night. It is the last time you will see this place. Your new brothers, continue down the path with a grim determination to make that Thing out there pay dearly for the lives that it took... The lives of the Walking Dead.
===============================
Campaign notes: This is a game set in 'OLD', with a distinctly gothic-horror theme. The characters start out knowing nothing of the dangers they face beyond the tales told by their elders.
Evil is. When a lesser Evil joins forces with a greater Evil, they both gain power. Lesser Evils can feel the presence of a greater Evil in a gravity-pull sort of way. The rites to become a Walking Dead imbue the character with a Taint of Evil, enabling them to feel that presence… but the cost is great. Evil is not more powerful or dangerous… it’s just easier. Easier to draw on the Taint and let it grow than to suppress it.
Your job is to hunt Evil, without becoming Evil. You are not governed by any mortal law nor holden to any liege. Your sole master is the destruction of evil, which will eventually mean your own destruction at your hands, the hands of your brothers, or , God willing, the claws of some Thing..
