[Other] Godbound - The Shattered Worlds

[DaMavster]

Applications are Open!

Game Name The Shattered Worlds Application Deadline: 4/10/2020 Looking for 3-4 players

Details System: Godbound (free pdf can be found here) Theme: Demigods, new to their power in a broken world Flavor: Heavy on the RP, combat likely, sandboxy

Plot Summary In the beginning, the gods created reality. From the Uncreated Night, they fashioned mighty Celestial Engines to sustain their creations. Pockets of order floating in the dark chaos. The gods then created the angels to tend to the engines, and mortal races to inhabit reality. And it was good. But over time, the gods became divided. Each wanted reality to be something different. Their arguments turned to quarreling, which in turn turned into war. Each god gathered like-minded gods to their side and enlisted the aid of angels and mortal worshipers. The beginning of the end came shortly after the gods taught Theurgy, the sorcery of creation, to their mortal followers. The mortals were not ready for the power granted by Theurgy. They used its magic to invade the Celestial Realms and make war against each other in the name of their gods. Their actions damaged the Engines sustaining reality. Worlds shattered and splintered, drifting apart into the Night. The gods, seeing their creation fall to ruin, sacrificed themselves to save it. Pouring out their power, they stabilized the broken engines, stopping the destruction. But at the ultimate cost to themselves. That was a thousand years ago. Reality is still broken. Shattered. It has fragmented into countless realms, each adrift in the Uncreated Night, slowing dying to decay as the Celestial Engines wind down. The angels have scattered, perhaps guarding the Celestial Realms against further damage. The mortals have all but lost the art of Theurgy and now carve out whatever meager existence they can in the broken shards of reality that they inhabit.

General Information Players will begin play portraying mortals in a pocket of reality called Moor. This realm is no larger than a small kingdom, but supports two separate human villages (Resolution and Crag) and a tribe of goblins. Terrain is forested, with a small mountain adjacent to Crag. Due to damage to the Celestial Engines, seasons don't change, making Moor perpetually experiencing Spring. Players will all be humans from Resolution, struggling to survive. Shortly after the game begins, an event will occur that grants the player characters the power of divinity, turning them into Godbound (demigods). The mortal portion of the game will be short and more guided. After player characters become Godbound, the world will open up and become more of a sandbox. Will you fix reality, conquer it, or destroy it? All potential directions the game could go. It's a sandbox with divine beings. There are infinite options. You'll get to flex your power plenty, but even a demigod has to deal with consequences for their actions. On top of that, there are certainly other demigods, angels, and worse out there. Players who have never played Godbound are free to join. The basic rules cover everything you need to play. Even though I own the Deluxe version, we will not be using most of the additional content. Of special note are the rules for mortals. I will not be using them as the effort to switch from mortal to Godbound characters is more trouble than it's worth in this case. Instead, you will create your character normally, but skip the portion where you select Words and Gifts. More details after players are accepted. We'll workshop character creation together.

About The Game and Your GM My name's DaMavster, or Mav for short. I've been GMing one system or another in meatspace off and on for 15 years or so. When I'm not playing with others, I use a variety of tools to run GMless games for myself. I've learned a lot about the type of game I like to see on this site. I prefer smaller groups of closeknit players. If we're friends, we're more likely to have a good game. I also don't like required post rates, even though when I'm a player I can go multiple posts a day on weekdays. I'd much rather see a meaningful post, then "Alice waits for her companions to be ready." Life happens, and we'll deal with it when it does, whatever that looks like. That said, please try to at least be available to post a few times in the week. There's a fine line between too many short posts, and constantly holding the game back because you only have 1 hour to be online per week. My games tend toward sandboxes. I'll create situations, but without a definite way for it to be resolved. As such, you'll do best in my games with characters who are proactive. If you wait for me to explicitly guide the plot, you'll get front row seats to the consequences of inaction, big or small (in Godbound, almost guaranteed to be big). The world will move even if your characters don't. I prefer story and character development/degradation over action. Where action happens, I like it to be organic. As such, if you're used to Challenge Ratings and other guardrails, be careful. I will not prevent you from picking a fight you can't win, though I will do my best to make it clear it's not a great idea. Likewise, you're a demigod, so some threats actually aren't threats. I like this quote from the book, "If the Divine Blade Queen wants to end the petty ruffian, the only question is how exactly she wants to disject his constituent parts. She is a goddess of Stab. Stab will happen."

[DaMavster]

Submitted Characters Player Character Concept Status DaniLore Valencia Averthrand The Blade Saint Complete Mairien Aeron Asterin Goddess of the Human Condition Complete HotsuSama Cynthia Eskellion Goddess of Perserverance and Fortitude Complete kanly Munzon   Complete Elanir Hagos Scholarship, History, Medicine Complete Roekahs   Fate and Death In Progress Andor Tilalli Ameyall Earth and Nature In Progress UnderDarkLord Victorious "Victor" Tenebrae God of Unspoken Desires Complete Marshmallow     Interest gwythion Alastair Smith God of Time, Machines, and Sorcerous Workings Complete SalmonMax Ilshana Goddess of Mischief, Trickery and Tomfoolry Complete abc123 Saira Alizeh Travel, Wind, and Roads Complete

Application Guidelines I need to see the following in any format: Name: The name of your character Concept: Examples include, "God of Death and Archery", "A divine representation of dragons", "Goddess of Love, Beauty, and Alcohol." If you're new to Godbound, think long and hard before choosing Magic or Sorcery, as the rules for the Word of Sorcery work a bit differently and will need extra effort on your part to use.A short line describing your character after becoming Godbound Experience: Never played? Read the book? Played in a game for two years? Etc. Being truthful on this question will not hurt your chances, no matter your experience level, so long as your application is strong otherwise.Give me a quick description on your familiarity with Godbound as a system Physical Appearance: A short description of your character's look Personality: A short description of your character's demeanor Background: The setting is not set in stone. Feel free to make up minor details and NPCs as needed. That said, stick to job titles and not names when referencing NPCs who are not family or close friends, so your story can more easily mesh with other applicantsWho is your character? What do they do in Resolution? Why are they who they are today? RP Sample: A scene/vignette of your character's life in Resolution. This is for me to get a feel for your posting ability, as well as a sense of who your character is. A paragraph or three is all you need, but going nuts won't disqualify you if inspiration strikes

FAQ What character creation guidelines are you using? I haven't said yet beyond "don't pick Words and Gifts". Character creation will happen after players are accepted.

[DaniLore]

COMPLETE

App Name: Valencia Averthrand Concept: The Blade Saint—Goddess of Light, Heroism, and Virtue. Val’s deific flavor will be a mixture of Joan of Arc and Don Quixote. The world is broken and dark, so she will strive to reflect the archetype of the shining knight that fights for Truth, Justice, and Order. Valencia will offer refuge to all those seeking a defender, and endeavor to reshape the world into a safer, more civilized place. Proposed Words: Fire, Sky, Sword, Sun, Endurance, and Might. ExperienceI’m new to Godbound but am willing to dedicate some serious time and effort to learn the system quickly and efficiently. The Godbound universe appeals to me and I love nothing more than a challenge. Physical Appearance: Full of gusto, Valencia is comically prone to restless energy and youthful bravado. With a blunted sword at her hip and clad in rusty armor, she happily walks with a bounce in her step while on patrol—though Resolution is pretty quiet save for the occasional horse theft and drunken tavern scuffle. As far as she knows, what dangers exist lie beyond the walls. Valencia’s fair countenance, rosy cheeks, and lighthearted demeanor lends to an air of child-like naivety and wonder. Her piercing grey eyes are expressive at the best and worst of times, for she is quite unabashed about her feelings. True to the Averthrand blood, Valencia inherited fiery orange hair that shines luminously in the sunlight. It has grown so long over the years that now she can’t get by without weaving her hair into a glorious long braid. Personality: Valencia is a vivacious, free-spirited young woman bristling with a bit more spunk than most can probably handle. In her mind, a single lifetime simply isn’t enough to see and experience everything the world has to offer. She dreams of venturing beyond Resolution one day, though her family constantly badgers her to settling down and give up any notion of adventure. Where some might be perfectly content staying cooped up in the same village their entire lives, Valencia finds it so insufferably boring that most days are spent helping the villagers with every little odd job just to avoid the gnaw of angst. She is very fascinated by foreign peoples and customs, and gravitates to mythic tales of distant yore. Her wild imagination is the only reprieve from the bleak melodrama of everyday life, instead envisioning a brighter world free of famine and murderous raiders. What was it like in the age of divine engines? What did Heaven look like in its great splendor? Is their creator truly gone? Have they been forsaken by God? Who or what will fill the void, or are mortals simply doomed and all that awaits us now is oblivion? Heavy stuff. Bright and optimistic, nonetheless, life is too short to be wistful of things out of one’s control. What truly matters are the people you can love and comfort right in front of you, and the present good that one can do—no matter how small and insignificant it might seem. Valencia prefers to avoid confrontation when possible, as she’s a lover of life and rather jovial when left to her own devices, but her cheerful exterior can quickly melt into a blazing fury should brigands think to do harm to the upright folk of their quaint little village. Background: The Averthrands are a respected family in Resolution best known for their long tradition of contributing to the village’s defenses. Valencia’s father, Brandt, is the esteemed Captain of the Watch; and, where her three rowdy and mischievous older brothers were obligated to follow suit, they did not have such expectations for their little girl. Of course, Valencia absolutely loathed this and refused to be left out. There was something alluring about handling a sword and shield, even though they gave her shabby wooden imitations. Despite the constant struggle with her overbearing family and frequent teasing from the village children, deep down Valencia believed that she was born for more. She was the brave hero locked in combat with the great demon—not the the bleating damsel locked in a tower, as society wished. Clinging to hope, the child dug her heel in and tenaciously addled the Captain until eventually Brandt threw up his hands and allowed her to be trained…as the garrison’s fearless courier. Although she has since become the village laughingstock, adorned in lackluster gear yet strutting about so proudly, contrary to their presumptions Valencia is not arrogant but ever thankful that she has the opportunity to do some good for Resolution, thankless job that it is. Once the day’s correspondence has been delivered and all chores at the barracks are complete, Valencia spends a great deal of her time patrolling the streets and serving the community. Walking through the village at midday, among a host of odd jobs, one may spot her carrying water from the well for poor old Gertie the widow, wrangling wayward chickens and goats, running errands for the apothecary, driving out vermin, and rescuing the same cat from the same (Usually on a weekly basis)infernal tree. It’s all very tiring work, but someone has to do it. When the sun falls to dusk Valencia heads to one of the local taverns, The Ivory Harp, to relax and regale Brynjar, the Innkeeper, of the day’s events. The grizzled fellow of few words has a deadpan visage that could spit nails, but he’s the very best listener and doesn’t mind her chipper chatter. Valencia has a grand time with friends at The Ivory Harp, singing along with drunken songs and dancing the occasional jig. Yet, at times it feels so incredibly empty. The rest of the Averthrands aren’t amused by her choice of personal leisure, nor do they see her as anything but a strange and willful girl. Her mother of late has been urging her to “quit the charade”, strip away the armor along with her nonsensical dreams and become a respectable married lady. Now, that sounds as appealing as chewing on glass! Is that the best she can settle for in Life? Perhaps it’s a blessing that the village can dally on peacefully like this without fear of death breathing down their necks. The life of mediocrity others desire for her is what truly seems terrifying. Were all the fabled tales of the Old World merely fanciful stories and ideals? Perhaps only fools like her believed in legends...but it gave her life meaning! It’s not like anything remotely interesting has ever happened here. Should that ever change, however, hopefully she’ll be in the thick of it. If fate would only grant Valencia a chance to prove herself, maybe folks would finally take her seriously! RP Sample:   Valencia hummed a cheery tune, smiling as she patrolled the same winding route through the village like she normally did every single day. That morning she had run a few errands for Gertie, who had trouble shopping at the market as she was mostly blind. So, after a busy day, all there was left to do now was have a merry jaunt about town before heading for the Ivory Harp. Everything was going as expected, until a terrified scream pierced the quiet. Rushing forward without hesitation, Valencia traced the sound to a back-alley shop of alchemical curiosities. The voice belonged to a mysterious girl named Sasha, the shop keep’s daughter. Her family had moved from Crag a few years back, and many viewed their business of tinkers and tinctures with superstition. Fear of magic ran deep in Resolution, thankfully there had not been a burning for several decades, long before Valencia’s time. Three brutes surrounded Sasha, one of which had her by a fistful of hair. “Unhand her you scoundrel!” Valencia shouted, bristling with anger. The young men turned to face the unimposing woman clad in scrappy armor, their expressions half-cocked and incredulous. “Ha! What’s the village kook doing here? Go away, can’t you see we’re doing business?” “And what business would that be? I said let her go or I’ll place you under arrest!” The very notion seemed to trigger a feral rage within the trio. Pushing Sasha aside, they descended upon Val before she had time to react. A weighty fist clobbered her dead in the face, knocking Val flat in one blow. A barrage of fists and kicks then pounded her into the ground, bloodying her lip and bashing her guts. The trio loomed over victorious, the ringleader gloating as he scraped the grimy muck from his boot off on her battered armor. “You come here all alone, like some hero? Very admirable, dove, but I think it’s time you wake up. The Watch turns a blind eye to our kind. You’re just too dumb to know better! That’s why I’ll let you off this time with a few bruises. Now, get lost!” Turning their attention back to the petrified girl, the brigand roughly manhandled her, demanded some kind of payment. Val struggled to stay with it, wincing in pain, realizing that perhaps taking on three at once wasn’t what you’d call smart. The bastards hadn’t pulled their punches either, so this was in fact her first brush with danger. It was…exhilarating. Glancing down at her hands, they trembled as droplets of blood fell from her busted lip. Tasting metal, like the iron of her sword, Val spit off a whad of blood. Raising slowly to her feet, Val took a moment to gather her bearings. Just who were these scumbags? Did they think her sword was just for show? Well yeah, technically that’s true, but she belonged to the Watch nonetheless! Evildoers! Ne’er do wells! They have it coming! Sasha pleaded and sobbed, flinching as a dagger was pressed to her neck. “Please no! We can’t do what you ask! Don’t hurt me!” Removing her iron helmet, Val seethed and grit her teeth. The girl’s plucky exterior had faded, her eyes alight with searing fury. So, they thought it was fun terrorizing a helpless girl? Good. Now she was free of doubt. There was only one course of action here. These were demons in disguise! Gripping the hilt of her sword, Valencia freed her blade and leapt at them. The biggest thug, muscled like an ox, turned just as the plated helmet smashed into his face. Teeth flew, she was fairly certain, but just to be safe she swung it back for a rebound smack. Hearing his nose crack, the bear of a man crashed like a pile of bricks, knocked out cold. Moving on to a sly looking weasel, Val threw the helmet for him to catch. Hasting forward, in the next breath, her boot swiftly kicked his unmentionables. Pitching a high squeal, the man tumbled forth and curled into the fetal position. Raising her blunt sword at the final demon, Valencia challenged him with a silent, heavy expression. Honestly, things had worked out far better than expected. Her mind was afire, what fear might have lingered had been all but consumed. The ringleader seemed dumbfounded, regarding his fallen men with a mixture of ire and disbelief. Relinquishing his hold on Sasha, he turned the wicked edge of his dagger in her direction. Sasha covered her face, too afraid to watch the climactic fight. A few hours later… Crammed within the confines of a small rustic office, the Captain of the Watch, brooding from his desk, quietly regarded the pummeled and thumped trio of offenders. His daughter, sporting the beginnings of a black eye, looked equally walloped, yet somehow she had managed to wrangle these hardened criminals together with little more than a smidge of rope and raw tenacity. “—And that’s what happened.” Valencia cheerfully concluded, folding her arms with a cheeky grin. “These three were up to no good, God’s honest truth!” “She whipped me with the flat of her blade.” “She kicked me where it hurts!” “She knawcked out mah teeph!” “Was I not clear? That’s what you get for resisting arrest!”She roughly snapped, piercing them with a squinty-eyed glare, though it looked rather squirrelly with one eye swollen shut. “Who knows what they would’ve done to poor Sasha, had I not intervened. So, Captain, what should we do with these hooligans?” Brandt, hard-edged as ever, leaned back in contemplation. Though she looked every bit his spitting image, fiery haired, minus the furry mutton chops, their sentiments were certainly far from aligned. Nothing passed the man’s dour scrutiny. Resting his eyes the longest upon the young ringleader, despite the circumstances the slick young man appeared oddly smug. With a sigh Brandt waved over his right hand man. “Lieutenant, free these men right away. Also, see to it that you send them off with some compensation for the trouble.” Balking, Valencia looked on with bewilderment as the Lieutenant carried out Brandt’s orders. Rubbing his freed wrists, the young brigand gave her a menacing sideways glance, widening a toothy smirk. As the room emptied of her quarry and the door shut behind them, in one swoop her victory had soundly been snatched away. Sinking amid the deafening quiet, Valencia turned back to the Captain. This feeling, it felt worse than the merciless beating she had taken earlier. It felt like someone had ripped out her heart. It was the sting of betrayal. “Father, how could you do that? How could you simply let them go?” “Unfortunately, that’s just how it is.” Was Brandt’s cold reply, his visage stern and wroth. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand why. “Thanks to your antics, matters could get infinitely more complicated for me. Do you think we live on an island, beholden to no power but our own? I suppose it’s my fault for giving in to your every whim. After all, how much trouble could a mere courier get into…well, today you’ve really outdone yourself!” “What? Are you saying I should’ve turned my back on that girl? Left her to the mercy of those scoundrels?” Brandt slammed his fist down, raising his voice. “YES! You’re not a soldier nor should you be gallivanting around saving the day! It’s not your job to drag criminals off the streets! You could have died, Valencia! Look what they did to your face! It’s so swollen you’re hardly recognizable!” To her, that seemed a bit of an exaggeration. True, she had narrowly missed getting stabbed once or twice, but that was part of the risk they all faced on the Watch. It’s not like criminals walked themselves into the brig. Waving off his feigned concern, clearly Brandt was trying to divert attention away from the real questions here! “Father, tell me! Who were those men?! What hold do they have over you?” “That’s none of your concern. Don’t test me, Valencia. Another foible like this and you’re off the Watch!” The Captain barked, eyeing her with a hawkish glare. “Put aside your silly fancies, girl. The world we live in is godless and bleak. The strong crush the weak, and the standing nail gets hammered down. You understand? There’s a delicate balance. If something upsets the status quo, it’s my job to eliminate the problem. So, don’t be a problem. I won’t be able to protect you.” “I don’t need your protection!” Valencia shot back. “Sounds to me like you’re a mere dog on a leash! I don’t care how dangerous it is! Courier or not, I would rather die than live as you do, without one shred of dignity!” Rushing out before he or anyone could stop her, Valencia swelled with fury, determined that she wouldn’t return to the Watch until she had gotten to the bottom of the truth. How could this be? She had always looked up to her father, but as it turns out he was just a sham of a man; a puppet long corrupted by an outside force. So, who or what pulled the strings? Resolution is her home! Yet, now the village felt so foreign. To think there was a dark cloud hanging over this quaint, picturesque town! Valencia was through delivering letters and packages. No longer an oblivious fool, the rosy-hued lens covering her eyes had irrevocably shattered. Valencia hurried back to the curio shop, flying a gasp when she found the shop door ominously ajar. Brandishing her blade, Valencia stepped through, calling out for Sasha. It appeared as though there had been a desperate scuffle. The shop had been utterly ransacked and vandalized. Crunching along with every step, the floor was swathed with shards of glass and debris. Hearing a groan from the back room, Valencia found the shop keep sprawled on the floor, covered in blood and at Death’s door. “Oh no, Mister Davin!” Kneeling beside the dying man, the Cragian gripped her by the hand. “They…they took my girl…please…you must…help her…” With that, Davin fell limp and expired. Val grimaced, heartbroken by the senselessness of his death. Yet, how could she deny this poor man his last request? This should have never happened in the first place! Brandt had released the bastards, knowing full well they might retaliate! She hated this feeling of helplessness. For, it was the bitter taste of defeat. Valencia did her best to find Sasha, but all trace of her had simply disappeared overnight. The Watch conducted a rough investigation, concluding that Sasha had committed fratricide, burgled the store, and fled to Crag. The nerve! Of course Brandt knew what really happened…the fact that he chose to cover up the truth only widened the rift between them. As a result, Valencia quit the Watch and hasn’t seen him since. Brynjar allowed her to stay at the Ivory Harp—not for free, of course. In exchange for cleaning up swill and vomit, Val has privacy and a decent wage…considerably more than she had before. It’s unsettling how fast the goodfolk moved on with their lives. Yet, she found it difficult to do the same. Even now, three months after the fact, questions haunt and keep her awake at night. It’s infuriating, really, knowing the truth yet having no way to act upon it. Things are not as they should be, but where does one start? From within, of course. Some days it’s a struggle, but she hasn’t given up the search or lost faith in humanity or their capacity for good. In dark times such as these, people need hope to cling to…they need a light to chase away the shadow of despair. The world needs heroes.

[kanly]

Ah, apparently I missed that line about "Players will all be humans from Resolution, struggling to survive." I will come up with something else, unless Grunza happens to tickle your fancy.

Application Name: Grunza Foulcut Concept: Goblin god of the hunt Experience: Almost none, though I have downloaded the PDF and am now trying to make heads or tails of it Physical Appearance: Grunza is a small bandy legged goblin, dressed in dark leathers. He carries a pair of well worn knives at his waist and what for a human would likely be a short bow, but seems considerably larger for him. He is prematurely balding but what hair is present is thick and course and greasy. His large, mostly sideways ears stick out of his hood and he bears several earrings in the left. His large yellow eyes are restless, constantly shift around their focus and trying to take in everything at once. His tiny nub of a nose points down to his broad snaggle toothed maw and weak chin which would be almost nonexistent if it weren't for the ratty goatee growing there. Personality: Grunza is restless, always on the hunt for the next thing go in the tribe's stewpot. It is not an easy thing providing for all the squalling brats and woman folk and the simpletons, But Grunza has never returned from a hunt empty handed. Sometimes it is just a 3 week old dead skunk, but as he is prone to say, "That'll fill yer belly too!" Hence his moniker. Background: Grunza is his tribe's chief hunter, a task made harder by the human encroachment into his tribes lands to make room for their fields and their cows. RP Sample: A scene/vignette of your character's life in Resolution. This is for me to get a feel for your posting ability, as well as a sense of who your character is. A paragraph or three is all you need, but going nuts won't disqualify you if inspiration strikes

Small Pic

[Mairien]

Can we have a bit more information about the setting? What does "pocket of reality" mean - something like a plane of existence? Three villages is not a small kingdom, three villages is kind of nothing. Or are they more like cities? I have a feeling that the technology level would be something like the Early Middle Ages in Europe, is that adequate?

The lack of setting info makes the Background and RP Sample sections really difficult for me.

[DaMavster]

@kanly: Just a reminder, characters are all humans from the village of Resolution.

Mairien Originally Posted by Mairien What does "pocket of reality" mean - something like a plane of existence? Yes. Originally Posted by Mairien Three villages is not a small kingdom, three villages is kind of nothing. Also, yes. Some pockets of reality are the size of cities, others the size of entire continents or solar systems. Moor is one of the smaller ones. It's like a sizable island, but instead of water it's surrounded by nothingness. "Size of a small kingdom" refers to land area, not population or land usage. If you want to get technical, Moor is Size 3 and can only support up to Size 2 factions/things, while the two villages and goblin tribe are Size 1, but that's not important at this stage. Originally Posted by Mairien I have a feeling that the technology level would be something like the Early Middle Ages in Europe, is that adequate? Stereotypical fantasy setting. Technology ranged all over the place before the Shattering, but when you live in an area of a few square miles, resources are the limiting factor. It's been a thousand years since reality broke, so any advanced knowledge has been lost.

[Mairien]

Thank you, that helps!

[DaMavster]

Glad to help! The setting info is also a bit vague on purpose in order to let players fill in some of the finer details, but maybe I did swing a little bit too light

[Mairien]

Application Name: Aeron Asterin Age: 27 Concept: Goddess of the Human Condition I know you said not to pick words yet, but it probably can't hurt, for better conveyance of the idea, to say that the ones from the free book that I'd have mapped this idea to are Passion + Fertility + Death. The character's basic idea will actually be to alleviate and overcome the human condition, in one way or another. Whether she will end up endorsing stoicism and acceptance, or something along the lines or transhumanism, or even nihilism and the destruction of the universe, will be interesting to see and will obviously depend on how things progress. Experience: I've never played in this system, but I've read the mechanical part of the book. The kind of game it seems meant for is very attractive to me! I haven't read the locations part of the setting with the various nations and organisations etc, which seem like they will for now be irrelevant. Physical Appearance Aeron is not a girl to inspire a sculptor or a painter. Her eyes are a bit too large and protruding, her legs are a bit too short, and her breasts rather small. She is not a great beauty, yet none of these imperfections change the fact that she is attractive. Perhaps it is the alertness and intelligence that speaks from her eyes, the liveliness of the expressions of her snub-nosed face, or the free and unconcerned manner of her movements - but even though she is not overly quick to smile, there is an undeniable magnetism about her. Personality What Aeron craves more than anything is to feel alive and to experience intensely, whether it be joy or sorrow. She is prone to mood swings and to perceiving things as more significant than they truly are, but has the wisdom to recognise her own nature. She enjoys attention and the company of others, and withers when deprived of it, but she is not a social butterfly - what she seeks is genuine connection, and she is very giving with the same. She is strongly motivated to alleviate suffering, and while there is a certain kind of egocentrism in her focus on her own experiences and feelings, and her behaviour is sometimes self-serving, she is capable of genuine altruism. Background The oldest profession of the world finds its way into every pocket of reality. Aeron is its representative in Resolution. It is not, to say the least, a position of prestige, but neither is she a universally reviled figure. The daughter of a farm labourer without a homestead of his own, Aeron was left with nothing when her parents died of a sudden illness in her teenage years. She worked as a milkmaid for a farmer at first, but found that supplementary activities in the barn made her much more interesting to people. Nowadays she rents a tiny cottage at the outskirts of the village, close to the nearby creek, where she lives and, of course, conducts business. While not well-liked among the womenfolk of the village, she is acquainted with a sizeable proportion of the male population at both ends of the age distribution and is well-informed about the mood of the village and its people's concerns. RP Sample After coitus, the devils' laughter is heard - so a learned man had once commented upon the conclusion of his business with her. Aeron now remembered these words as she looked at the young man in her bed. There was nothing obviously wrong with him. To be sure, he was not exactly handsome - his ears, in particular, were quite a bit too large and weren't entirely symmetrical, but he was bright, sensitive, and well-to-do, as much as one could be in the general material deprivation of Moor. He was the bowyer's son, an important role, and had learnt the trade from his father, but he didn't enjoy the work and didn't enjoy having to deal with his customers. He couldn't bear bargaining or hearing complaints from them. He wasn't cut out for work as an artisan, and really it wasn't clear what he was cut out for. It was a fact that he could not articulate, but that he was somehow, dimly, aware of. The fire had gone out and Aeron felt the chill of the evening air on her naked body. In the flickering light of the lone candle that now illuminated the room, she slipped into a gown. Within a few years, he would marry some girl or other who desired a secure livelihood and was prepared to put up with a plain and uninspiring husband in exchange for it. For now, his father encouraged him to entertain himself elsewhere, so as not to cause a scandal by prematurely pursuing any of the more respectable young women in the village - not that he had said it quite this way, but Aeron knew very well what this was about. And she knew equally well what it was that this young man wanted and could never have: to be desired and loved and cherished. And this was the moment in which this inevitability had dawned on him. There was nothing she could do about it - it was not within her power. "Come on", she said. "Get up."

[DaMavster]

Originally Posted by Mairien

I haven't read the setting part of it, but that appears to be irrelevant for this game? (If it is, I'll absolutely read it!)

The default setting's history is thematically very similar to my setting, but differs in the details. As for the location, I opted to created my own, so that portion will be totally different, yet it's still possible it exists out there.

As for surname, it's a melting pot of cultures, so go with whatever feels right.

[HotsuSama]

You son of a biscuit, I'm in. Now complete.

Application Guidelines Name: Cynthia Eskellion Concept: The Eternal Pillar; Goddess of Fortitude and Great Works Experience: I've read the standard version, never actually played though Physical Appearance: Cynthia plays the part of a 'noble', seeing her prestige as an anchor in the village's well-being. She dresses fine with the small amount of silks and fabrics that can be fashioned from the limited resources of Moor. Finding long hair a bother, she cuts it short, accentuating the rigid lines of her expression; a lifetime of playing the highborn part has left her with a tangible aura of sternness and severity. Personality: Her mannerisms don't always match her sentiments. Cynthia cultivates her mannered means of carrying herself based on ancient scraps of texts, aping the motions but missing the context. She is highly insecure behind her facade, realising how much she's distancing herself from her peers, but unsure of how to break her own habits. Ultimately, the shell is convenient for her. Background: While most families could trace their bloodlines back multiple generations if pressed on the subject, the Eskellions always made a fine craft of celebrating their heraldry. Almost every mayor of Resolution in living memory has been an Eskellion. The first formal trade agreements with Crag, although now antiquated, were signed off by the Eskellion patriarch of the time - and the family benefited well from the economic boon. They have gathered enough prestige across the generations to be the closest Resolution has to a noble family. Cynthia is the first Eskellion in almost a hundred years to not be mayor. She has petitioned repeatedly and been shunned for a more amicable rival. The Lady Eskellion has a reputation for coldness and stoicism that often works against her. Also weighing on her is the current fragility of her bloodline. Her brother died years ago in circumstances that appeared suspicious, although no one was sure of whom to be suspicious. Her father, Karl, is bed-ridden and feeble and her brother's son, Emil, is a reckless boy who's already injured himself severely multiple times on his escapades. No one else is left. Cynthia knows she ought to remarry and produce heirs to the Eskellion name, but the idea leaves her cold. Her first husband Kael was a lovely man but frail, never able to breathe right; his death was accepted as 'expected' by Resolution, but Cynthia mourned him deeply all the same. To Cynthia, the Eskellions are the backbone of Resolution and have an obligation to it; however, without civic office or familial solidarity, she has no idea what that might look like in her shoes. For now, she plays the part of the Lady Eskellion. In truth, her attempts to appear 'refined' are archival; another boon of the Eskellion continuity is its careful archiving of relics from bygone eras, including scraps of texts from the near-mystical time of the Forged Lands. Cynthia spent her childhood reading of a golden age, when palaces touched the skies and nobles flaunted with each other in soirees. Her attempts to replicate the highborn demeanour from these pieces of history are overstated in a village that's rustic by comparison - she stands out and separates herself, to her own detriment. RP Sample She's told Emil time and time again to keep away from the well. He'll fall in - again. The boy has a death wish, there's no other way to reason it. Every time he's given a boundary meant to preserve him from risk and harm, he treats is as a challenge. Cynthia wonders at times whether the whole Eskellion bloodline is fated to end with her. Only three of them left now; one dying, one toying with death as idle time, and one who's not sure what to even fill her life with. A noble dynasty, counting itself among the architects of established society in Moor, reduced to crumbs on the plate. They always served the people, didn't they? An Eskellion always left the world better than how they'd found it upon arrival. If they were to have a formal family creed, it would be something like that. But it wouldn't do to have these thoughts too often. They're not conducive with what she's taught herself. And not every Eskellion is meant to reshape the face of Resolution. Sometimes it's enough to be involved. 'Good day,' she says upon entering the bakery. The baker's wife is there as well - very good. 'Maam, I was wondering if you would be so kindly as to join us for a soiree in three evenings' time. Something to lift public morale a little, you know.' 'A sorry? Who's apologising?' the baker's wife responds. 'No, no,' Cynthia responds with a practised giggle, 'a soiree. Like a dance party.' 'Hah, she'd only be caught dancing on my grave!' the baker replies for his wife. They both laugh - apparently it was a variation of an old joke of theirs. Endearing, but it doesn't leave her anywhere to go in the conversation. Once, Kael would have interjected with something jovial to keep the conversation moving and lead her back in, but there was no more Kael. For all the poise and measure she would strive for in her everyday conduct, he knew every weakness of hers and sought to compensate for them, rather than exploit them. Cynthia carries on without him. She's sometimes not sure why. 'I expect you're more graceful on your feet than even you know! I do hope you reconsider,' is all she can say. Don't betray the disappointment. Is now the right time to curtsy? Should she curtsy to a baker's wife? A young man rushes into the bakery, sweat-lined face drawing in front of Cynthia's steady expression. 'There you are! Come quickly Cy...m'lady, your nephew's fallen into the well. We think he's broken his leg.' Cynthia's face changes briefly; a flicker of resignation. Then it's gone, and the Lady Eskellion is back. 'Ah. That silly boy. Let's see if we can hoist him up, but if the leg prevents that we may have to send someone down to splint it first, perhaps?' 'I'll ask the doc,' he says before sprinting out of the bakery. Cynthia looks back to the baker and his wife. They look uncertain, lost for words in how to reach out to Cynthia; they can only grimace in sympathy at the minor misfortune. Indignation flairs in Cynthia for a brief moment - you ingrates, my family built this bakery three generations ago for you and you regard me like this! - but she knows it's not fair. And if there's one thing her self-imposed training on social etiquette has taught her, it's to push through all the unfairness and find stability. 'I'm sorry for my rudeness, but I must go attend to these new matters,' she says, now deciding to curtsy. 'Good day.' And the Lady Eskellion was off, perhaps a little glad she had something more substantial than haphazard soiree planning to deal with.

[kanly]

Take 2

Application Name: Munzon the Butcher Concept: God of Beast and Blade. Experience: Almost none, though I have downloaded the PDF and am now trying to make heads or tails of it Physical Appearance: A massive man with a dark, full head of hair and an immaculate imperial style beard. Just in recent years though, some of that mass has started to make the slow but inexorable slide from shoulders to belly. Personality: Munzon is a proud man, used to being treated with respect (and perhaps a little fear). He is hard but fair and scrupulously honest in his dealings even though he could make more money if he cut corners. Though he has taken the lives of thousands of animals, he is not inured to their suffering and takes great pride in making their ends as quick and painless as possible, normally killing in a single blow. Background: Munzon is from a long line of butchers in Resolution. The eternal spring in Moor is not necessarily good for many of the crops that the farmers would like to grow which require the warmer weather to ripen, but grasses have always done well in the cool and so have the animals that feed on it. As a result, Munzon's family (as people specially trained in how to handle and prepare those animals for slaughter) have done quite well for themselves. While certainly not nobility by any stretch of the imagination, they were wealthy and well respected. In addition, his job has made him physically large and powerful, since he always had food to eat and moving the meat built up his muscles RP Sample: Munzon was in the back room filling sausage casings when he thought that he heard the bell on his front door ring, briefly. Which was unusual, since he had locked the door himself no more than half an hour ago... Moving as quietly as his large form allowed, Munzon pulled his large cleaver from where it was embedded in the butcher block beside him and snuck to the swinging door that lead into the shop. Pushing it open just a fingers breath, he peered cautiously into the other room. At first, he saw nothing, but then as his eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, he saw a shadow detach itself from the wall and move behind the counter. Seeing that there was only one, Munzon stepped boldly through the door and said, "You'll find no coin there this time of day." At which point, the figure was already running for the door prompting Munzon to throw his blade. However, the target was not the shadowy figure, but rather the door frame, where it sunk in at least an inch deep, effectively blocking any hope of escape. Then, the large man leapt the counter and tackled the intruder. The two struggled for a little while, but Munzon had both size and weight on his side so it didn't last long. Once his opponent stopped fighting, the butcher reached up and pulled off their hood reveling the dirty face of a young man who looked just this side of starvation. It could only have been desperation that allowed this boy to fight as hard as he had since there was little enough meat on him.

Small Pic

[Mairien]

Random observation: people who enjoy this setting might also enjoy this story.

[Elanir]

Hagos Name: Hagos (the healer, scholar or ancient one) Concept: Staying true to his life before receiving the divine gift, Hagos will become a god of scholarship, especially history and medicine (like a medieval monk). (Proposed Words: Healing, Knowledge, Time – though I am more than open to any suggestions you might have e.g. Artifice or Fertility etc.) Experience: I own the Deluxe edition of the „Godbound“ campaign setting and the „Ancalia the Broken Towers“ book as well. I have read the first book (about a year ago) and only parts of the second book (the first chapters mostly). Unfortunately I haven’t had a chance to play the game, yet I find the concept extremely interesting and would love to give it a try (I have been waiting a long time for this). Physical Appearance: Hagos is a man in his early seventies though he has the vigor of a much younger individual. His skin is wrinkled and has a brownish color thanks to his exposure to the elements and he usually squints when he doesn’t wear his makeshift glasses. His simple robes are stained at the sleeves for no matter how often he washes them some stains of ink and blood are just impossible to remove. Often carrying medicinal herbs in his satchel, many realize he is approaching before they actually see him through the unique smell that accompanies him. Personality: Hagos has an insatiable thirst for knowledge and constantly questions everything around him, trying to find the true essence of things. His curiosity about the past is so great that it sometimes blinds him to danger. He is eager to share his knowledge with anyone who shows even a slight interest and can talk for hours about his favorite subjects unless interrupted in a not so subtle manner. Having the best of the people of Resolution at heart he acts as the village’s physician, apothecary and herbalist and will treat anyone in need without asking for compensation. He accepts however small gifts of food or money for he somehow has to sustain himself. Background: Even from a very young age Hagos realized that he was different from most of the people of Resolution. Why does the sun rise and set? How do the plants grow and bear fruits? How are animals and people born? Who built the broken tower in the forest? Hagos‘ parents had neither the inclination nor knowledge to answer these questions and even those that served as the village’s teachers where sometimes at a loss to give an answer that would satisfy the boy. Realizing that he would have to look for these answers elsewhere, Hagos started observing the world around him and writing everything down. Within a few years he knew more about the world and its inhabitants than almost anyone else in the village, but still that wasn’t enough for the young man. If I have applied this method of observation and experimentation, he reasoned, perhaps others have done so before me. So he started looking for books, scrolls and inscriptions that could offer him a window to the past. Since Resolution was nothing more than a village, his search was only moderately successful, but this didn’t discourage him. He started looking for other places of knowledge, places that were secret and forgotten, the ruins of a castle, a fallen watchtower, an abandoned cellar. These sometimes dangerous excursions only rarely resulted in him finding a damaged book, a torn scroll or dirty parchment, but over the years Hagos was able to gather enough manuscripts to equip a small library, arguably the greatest repository of knowledge in Moor. Hagos‘ greatest treasure is a book describing human anatomy, illnesses, medicinal herbs and the proper treatment of wounds. Having memorized the book’s contents and even added to ist knowledge, having himself experimented with leaves, roots and fungi for several years, he was quick to offer his services to the people of Resolution as physician, apothecary and herbalist. Since he has taken care of the ill and wounded of the village for almost half a century and has no living relatives he is usually called „the healer“, „the scholar“ or the „ancient one“, his family name forgotten by most people of Resolution and unused even by Hagos himself. RP Sample: Hagos knew that something bad had happened. The boy’s screams told him as much before he even had the chance to examine the child. Daneal was a brave eight-year-old who dreamed of becoming a soldier and only cried when he was seriously hurt. Two years ago he had deeply cut his hand with his father’s hunting knife -or „sword“ as the boy claimed- and even then, he had attempted to keep his tears in check, though not completely successfully as Hagos remembered. The physician walked as swiftly as he could through the streets of Resolution, carrying his trusty satchel along with several pouches filled with crushed herbs and bitter roots. A decade ago I would have been next to him in just a few minutes, but these days are gone forever, thought the old man. Hagos had been blessed with a healthy constitution but his age could no longer be denied. The children are right to call me „ancient one“. I could very well be the oldest person in the village. Pausing shortly to make sure he had enough bandages in his satchel, Hagos stroked his beard. That is not exactly right. There are a few who are older than I am, the baker’s grandmother and the old midwife among them. I still have a few good years ahead of me, I’m sure. Increasing his walking pace now that the screams were so near, he soon found himself before an apple tree, young Daneal lying on the ground in front of it, holding his right leg with both arms and screaming with pain. The unnatural angle of the child’s lower leg and the protruding bone made the diagnosis very easy for the physician, as easy as the cause of the accident. Foolish boy. How many times must your parents tell you that climbing trees is dangerous? "Now, now, young soldier, it’s not so bad as it looks. I’ll have you fixed in no time. Do you need something for the pain?" Even though the boy shook his head negatively, Daneal’s pained grimace and trembling limbs told another story altogether. Taking out a small vial from his satchel, Hagos gently supported the boy’s head and helped him gulp the bitter-tasting potion. "That’s a good boy. A true soldier. The pain will subside within minutes, you’ll see. Now, listen to me. To be sure that you will in the future walk without a limp, I will have to operate your leg. You will be sedated of course, but still… You will have to work hard for your leg to become fully functional. Don’t worry, Daneal, we‘ll do this together. I am responsible for this village, you know. I can hardly deprive it of its best warrior, can I?" I wish there was another, a better way, my boy, though Hagos as he saw the fear in the child’s eyes. Unfortunately there is no alternative. All you can do, is hope for a miracle.

[Kaiya]

Interested. A few questions:

a) Are you okay with the Lich Queen Word? I'd enjoy roleplaying the experience of someone who dies and returns during the prologue. How will they and their friends deal with them suddenly being undead?

b) How will stats be generated? I ask because random stats are a deal breaker for me.