Level Up (A5E) (+) Project Chronicle: Class Conceits and Narrative Role

[GuyBoy]

Debating a Chronicler subclass for Bards. That might be interesting. A bard that travels and seeks information, specifically, rather than just kind of "Getting" it.

That would work well, particularly in a setting of ancient cities lost to shifting sands, with the secrets they contain.....Ozymandias!
Not to mention the “spider-haunted ruins.”

The Chronicler bard could have explorer-type features to help them seek the information. Not exactly Lara Croft but with elements?

 

[Steampunkette]

Project Chronicle: Classes

No description.

homebrewery.naturalcrit.com

If anyone wants to see the pictures I'm adding for placeholders.

 

[GuyBoy]

You can probably work this out for yourself, but I will definitely be supporting your Kickstarter for this setting (or buying it in whatever format you are releasing).
I love the way you are building this; interesting, positive and a real take on S&S for today, plus collaborative inputs from this board.
So up for this.

 

[Steampunkette]

Cleric
There are many gods in the world. Powerful deities and entities we seek to appease to protect ourselves from their ire, their wrath. In this we have failed... but there are those, yet, who court the favor of the gods, seek their blessing. Across all lands are shrines and temples to gods uncounted, but it may be said that they are masks, names, false claims that the Eight wear before different peoples... Or are placed upon them by the priests.

Clerics, Priests, Medicine Men, Shaman, countless names for the same thing. Speakers of the Gods, adherents of the faith. They who bear the message of their religion into the world. Many do so in good faith, but even among the number of those who serve gods are cruelties and betrayers, deceitful and manipulative, who would use their position, their beliefs, to place themselves over others.

Servants to Gods
Priests serve the gods, directly. They interpret signs, perform rituals, and counsel lay people in their day to day life. Wherever you find priests you almost always find the heart of a community. Priests are often learned folk to whom you may turn in times of need. Look to them for local histories, for legends and myths, for long memories of the past.

But do not trust in a Priest. For priests are mortals with their own agenda. They will seek to couch their advice in the words of their god. To make simple suggestions into edicts of behavior. To change your heart from what gods and faith you might hold for their own.

A Game of Souls
It is said that the gods wish to claim our spirits for themselves in death. That when we perish and the Dweller ushers us into the afterlife that we will sit by their sides and be numbered. Some say that this is how we shall be rewarded for our service to the Gods in life, or at least our deference to their desires and intentions.

Others, however, say that it is how the gods will judge their vast game. By collecting and counting our souls for their own ends. To compare them, and say "I, now, have the most souls!" But such things are questionable at best.

For what care can the gods have for games, for souls, for us when we are so little beside them. In my travels, I think the gods care little for mortals, and less for our souls. They desire compliance and acceptance in the manner of a king to the peasants. He no more cares for one subject than a cow in his holdings. Both provide him with value and deference, and this is enough. Perhaps this is how the gods see us... Yet priests speak of children, of flocks, of congregations.

And that speaks to a deeper meaning I yet hold hope for.
-The Chronicler-

 

[Steampunkette]

And the story excerpt for the Cleric:

The Mysteries of the Flower​

"Gaioz of Grisia, Priest of the fourth circle, adherent of the Flower. Rise, and be recognized!" Bellowed the Archpriest, her hands raised high into the air, the symbol of the Flower, a gilt lily upon a blue background, hung heavy from her neck and hardly shifted for it's weight at her broad gesture. Gaioz rose slowly, his dark blue skin sheened in sweat after the hours long trials required to prove his faith and secure his ascension. With bare head lowered and panting he stood, and held his hands forward, together, fingers spread and touching to show allegiance to the Flower.

The attending members of the congregation, nobles and priests and a handful of artisan leaders, raised their voices in exultation and called out to the Flower for favor in attending this moment. Gaioz smiled wanly as his head rose, looking out over his new peers, the Fourth Circle. His family would be proud if they saw him, now.

At the gesture of the Archpriest he stepped forward on wobbling legs, like an antelope child newborn and faltering. She gave him her blessing, and he felt the surge of strength restore what vigor he had lost in the trials, felt the wounds close upon his back and arms. And she took him in her great arms to hug him as one would a child, to pet the sweat from the back of his head, and nod.

And then she was gone, off to attend other business as the Priests and nobles and merchants spoke and feasted in his honor. He had accomplished much in a short time by following the Golden Rule, to do unto others as you would have them do unto you. So simple. So basic. Yet it created great comfort, and endless joy to see it repeated, performed, by countless adherents in their lives.

He had counseled so many to follow that simple guideline, and their adherence helped lead him to his new position of honor. As the evening wore thin, the nobles and the merchants slipped off into darkness to seek their homes and beds. Gaioz made certain to bid goodnight and offer simple blessings to each within the temple's garden. Amid flowers he had tended two short moons before.

And then he followed behind the senior priests of the Fourth Circle as they lead him deeper into the temple than he had ever been. "You were chosen, Gaioz, for your piety and your attention to detail. Did you know this?" asked Alaira, who had once been a Musarran merchant, herself, before donning the cloth and the flower.

"I was told, yes. There is nothing I would not give to the Flower. To the church. My life, should it be needed. My flesh. My blood. My very soul."

"Yes, yes. We know. Follow closely, now, and mark the path in your mind. There are no markers where we go now." Bid Alaira, and Gaioz did as told. Through the catacombs beneath the temple, through the halls of the dead which long preceded the priesthood, here. Built, as it was, in an ancient time, with cyclopean stones. A twisting path to a great vaulted chamber.

Within, the tithings of countless souls. Gaioz was stunned by the sheen of gold and of silver. He looked to Alaira in confusion at the wealth which should have been used to help people.

"You'll be keeping the ledgers, now, Gaioz. Follow the Gold and Rule."

 

[Steampunkette]

And here's the Warlock. Went ahead and fore-formatted the document so I can skip around rather than forcing myself to follow alphabetical order.

Warlock
The power of the Witch flows through the world. She shaped it. It is of her. But it no longer belongs, solely, to her. Loosed into the world, taught to the peoples, it was unleashed and made vast and wondrous. And Terrible. Now Arcane Magic is as much a source of power as a river is a source of water. It ebbs and flows, rises and falls, but it cannot be contained, entirely. Even the dam does not stop the river. Only diverts it, changes it's flow. So, too, is Magic.

But the river can be poisoned. The dammed lake be fouled by the dead or by salt to ruin it's use for others. So did the Witch respond to mortal trespass. But mortals are strong, flesh is strong, spirits are -strong-, and she knew this. While we can be poisoned by her waters so, too, can we be cured, purified, of it's taint.

Careful Studies
In my wide travels I have seen places of learning, education, where those who have the will to wield arcane magic are taught great care in it's use, how to purify themselves after it's use, and how to deflect the twisting corruption the Witch instilled in the world. While I do not think it right to so blatantly circumvent a God's Curse in this way, teaching many to do so, the result seems... stable. For now.

These students gain great respect for the curse, and for the weight it bears, and for the deep wells of power that it protects. Where a Wizard might cast many spells of different power, the Mage learns to limit themselves to a handful of specifically powerful spells, to control the corruptive nature magic provides. Such limits largely protect them.

Heedless Bargains
But for every school of Mages, there exist Warlocks. Like their Mage brethren they limit their spellcasting to control their descent into corruption. But they have chosen the swifter path to power. One which bears terrible weight, terrible price.

To become a Warlock, one need only find ancient magics and terrible beings who possess power that can be leased to a mortal. To make a simple bargain, often for one's soul, or firstborn, or name. But to make this deal, this barter of future for power, is to invite the evil with which you trade into your heart.

Such people, such Warlocks, rarely have much desire to purify themselves, even if they understand the methods to do so.
-The Chronicler-

 

[Steampunkette]

And the Sorcerer... I enjoyed this one a lot.

Sorcerer
Power. Power travels with bloodlines, this is known. The wealthy man raises a wealthy child. The noble passes title to heir. The blood of the queen passes on to her children. But so, too, does corruption. Corruption of body, of spirit, of mind. These things may pass to generations, also. And no case of corruption's passing is more evident than the passing of the Witch's Curse to one's brood. It is said that the first Sorcerer was gifted knowledge of the Arcane by the Witch, herself. That in their blood traveled power that was shared.

Whether that power was shared by desire or consumption is a matter of debate.

Whatever the case, Sorcerers, now, are known for being born with mystical prowess, and the Witch's Curse flowing through their veins along with the blood of their parents. Few learn the cleansing rituals, the purification the Flower gave us.

Thus beware the children of the Corrupt.

Legacies of Evil
Not all Sorcerers are the children of Spellcasters. Some are birthed of those who succumb to the Beast's curse, the Serpent's, the Weaver's... but all bear a spark of Arcane power. None know why this is so, few question it. All that matters is the power birthed and borne by the children.

Children who may not know the Flower's touch, or word. Who know only the Witch's jealous nature and vicious temptations. Their parents' transgressions oft follow them. The child of a deposed tyrant is unlikely to garner safety and welcome from those their parent oppressed. And defending themselves with the power granted makes the corruption evident...

Lament the wayward Sorcerer.

Destiny Embraced or Deferred
In rare instances, there are those who are born chosen. Not through corruption or the sins of their parents, but for some higher destiny. And they, and their more accursed cousins, must make a terrible choice. Whether to embrace their destiny as it was ordained, or cast it aside to make their own path in the world.

There have been Sorcerer-Kings killed by their own children, who refused to don the crown when their day came. And there have been Weaver-Born blessed ones who have cast off the cloak of valor given unto them to live lives of decadence or folly, or even deepest piety.

Who can know what result will come from denying Destiny? None among the many that I have asked.
-The Chronicler-

For Subclass I'm definitely leaning to "Weaver-Born" as a concept. A Child of Destiny sort of class. Still an Arcane Caster with all the pitfalls thereof. But one chosen by some greater purpose than mortal lust.

Possibly some Divination style "Roll a d20 at the start of the day, swap it out as a reaction to anyone rolling a d20 at any time" type stuff to represent Deus ex Machina in their lives or Fate's Intervention. Could be fun!

 

[GuyBoy]

Whether it’s subclass or bloodlines, some of your other gods also lend themselves to sorcerers with particular traits.
The Beast; some form of minor transformation when casting, similar to Shifters in Eberron?
The Tempest; bonus elemental spell?
The Serpent; advantage on saves v poison?

Just ideas

 

[GuyBoy]

“You think a simple plains barbarian like you can thwart one such as I?” Shassaarth hissed, his somewhat human features distorted by the faint scaling above his eyes, his somewhat Mussaran accent distorted by the forked tongue between his thin lips. “My mother, a mage of ancient Theael, lay with the Serpent of Forbidden Sathak, as fiends screamed the chorus of their lust. I was born to power, steppes girl! Power such as this!”
So saying, the sorcerer cast down his staff, viridian steam filling the air, and a great jewelled snake arose, evil eyes staring, fangs dripping dark venom as it readied to strike.
“I hate snakes!”, whispered Teerka.

 

[GuyBoy]

PS if you want to use her anywhere, Teerka is either a ranger or a barbarian as I envisage her.
Her mother was an Ellenic chronicler-bard, her father a Kyrani chieftain.
Feel fee to make anything you like of her for your setting.