[Game Thread] Chapter 1: Awake, O Sleeper, and Arise from the Dead

[Mallothi]

Distances shift. Paths between places warp. As if this pale, lightless world possessed a will and bitter life. Its mercy curdled to wrath over a too-long age.

Who are you? The grave robber with silver glittering between cracked fingernails? The mystic who would bend the world’s miserable heart away from its inevitable end?

Most likely, it makes little difference. No one has seen the sun in years. The old care more for sacrifice and god-offerings than their bawling spawn. Doomsayers are proved right time and again and embraced by hidden powers. Maybe it’s best to surrender--to trust your own instinct and skill rather than the whim of the dice? Before all is drowned in welcome silence. Life locked and failing in a DARK FORT.
...

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GM You wake, wracked with violent convulsions, mouth packed with black earth. You should be dead. By some wicked twist of fate, you have been denied the sweet release of death. The Shimmering Fields escape you, and instead you find yourself half-buried in a shallow grave, shrouded in a pallid mist. You take stock of your meager possessions. Your weapons and equipment remain untouched, but your rations are long gone - claimed by ravenous fauna or pilfered by something worse, you'll never know. You are dehydrated and starving. The end may not be long in coming after all. You heave yourself to the grave's edge, daring a glimpse of the world beyond. Your eyes widen with dawning realization. A wave of horror crashes over you; you nearly collapse under the weight of it. Graven-Tosk. A truly ancient cemetery filled with mausoleums, blank-eyed cherubs, stagnant fountains, plague pits, and ordinary graves stretches out before you, impossibly vast. You retreat back into the pit, terror-stricken. How long have you slept? How much time is left? A bleak half-year? A cruel month? Less? The prophesies of the basilisk Verhu, set down by Anuk Schleger in the Nameless Scriptures, have all come to pass. The prophesies have all proven absolutely, factually true, and it is known that Verhu predicts inexorable annihilation. You cannot bear witness to the end of all things from within Graven-Tosk. To spend your final days in this place is unthinkable. Escape is the only option, and your life's sole mission. Well, that, and to purloin as much silver as your purse can carry on the way out. No reason you shouldn't usher in the apocalypse from the relative comfort of one of Galgenbeck's brothels or taverns. A sudden noise startles you. A groan, and the sound of digging. You aren't alone. Willing your aching body into motion, you rise again to peek out of the grave. In front of you float three other heads, bobbing in the soupy fog. More victims of whatever unaccountable injustice you've suffered, no doubt. While they don't look exactly trustworthy, none of them seem openly hostile, either. Could this be a bit of good luck, finally?

GM - Mechanics You start at full HP. You have all your starting equipment except for any food/drink, which has been stolen or has rotted away. Any PCs with "small wagon" on their equipment list can find one sitting nearby, if they want it. Roll a d6 to see what you know of Graven-Tosk. You are starving. Without food or drink no HP is restored when resting and after two days a starving PC loses d4 HP per day.

[Ursinorum]

Lygan A shake of the leg at first. Then, as if waking up from a deep sleep, Lygan began to move. Or trying to, at least. Like a very heavy blanket, he felt restricted. it wasn't until he noticed it was very hard to breath that he woke up panicking. Luckily, the grave he was buried in was very shallow, and it wasn't hard for the weak man to free himself. Spitting and coughing up dirt, he gave a look around. *..Graves? a whole bunch of 'em, too..* Rolling out to the sides, he stood up with the certainty of a newborn horse standing for the first time. A quick check of his belongings was in order. *.. seems like everything is.. the Idol! Where the heck is..?* Then some flashes of his last moments of consciousness appeared in his head. *..owh.. yeah.. that..* Immediately, he checked to the side of his ribs. There was a small scab that still hurt a bit. *..at least I'm alive..that's always a good sign..* He then noticed some other shapes in the fog, raising from the earth. "Ehi, you people, what the hell is happening?" *..maybe we're undead, brought up to bring the end of the world..or maybe there's an incompetent idiot working at the morgue..*

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Quick Stats Name: Lygan | Class: Gutterborn Scum | HP: 5/5 | Omens: 1 (d2) Strength: -3 | Agility: 0 | Presence: 0 | Toughness: 0 Class Specials: All Presence and Agility tests have their DR reduced by 2 (normal tests are DR10 instead of DR12).Stealthy | When attacking by surprise test Agility DR10. On a success you automatically hit once with a light one-handed weapon, dealing normal damage +3.Coward's Job Weapon: Sword (d6) | Armor: nope | Shield: No Silver/Equipment: 14s, Skull, Rope 30m, Light or pitch black for 3d10 minutesFalse Dawn/Night's Chariot (sacred scroll)

[Gilgameshi]

Haerü Soft, loose soil gave way to bald head as Haerü violently rose from the half-arsed grave with coarse retching sounds. Bleary-eyed and slightly bewildered, the soldier groaned and shook his head slowly, bringing a mailed hand to his forehead as realization slowly dawned on him that he was still alive. Heh. Dose idjits dun even do burial royt... A dry chuckle escaped from the soldier's throat. He was mighty thirsty. Hungry too, but his parched, un-aled gullet took precedence over food. Haeru instictively reached for his waterskin, which most of the time played the role of wineskin. Empty. His armor and bow were still on him, though, so he had that going for him. He got up in earnest, reaching his full, almost seven-foot height and considerable muscular bulk to look around. The fog obscured his already bad vision; he couldn't even see his own tattered trousers and boots. The leather belt around his waist had a small pouch that made a familiar bony sound. That made Haerü grin, revealing his two rows of yellow, jagged, shark-like teeth. He saw the wagon that used to hold his other gear. Also empty. The rest of the landscape seemed an endless sea of grave stones. Haerü now knew where he was. The the digging noises started. Haerü's body tensed, mouth gradually forming into a snarl. He counted one... two... three distinct forms breaking the monotony of the mist. They saw him; they did not attack. That was good enough for him. "Any a yous got sum drink? Roll ya for it," he croaked the exact same time the cutthroat one asked a question, the ex-soldier grinning with his horrid yellow teeth.

OOC   D6 roll: 6

Quick Stats   Name: Haerü | Class: Fanged Deserter | HP: 10/10 | Omens: 1 (d2) Strength: +3 | Agility: +/-0 | Presence: +1 | Toughness: +2 Class Specials: Agility tests are DR+2, excluding defence. You are incapable of understanding scrolls.Clumsy & Dull-witted | DR10 to attack, d6 damage. You must be close to your target. 1-2 on d6 chance the enemy gets a free attack.Bite Attack | Four weird teeth rattle within a blackened pouch. Before a battle roll d6 for each one. For every 6 one of your attacks deals maximum damage.Wizard Teeth Weapon: d6 damage, 11 arrowsBow | Armor: -d6 damage, tier 3, DR+4 on Agility tests, defence DR+2Splint | Shield: N Silver/Equipment: 73s, small wagon, waterskin + 4 days' rations, 3 doseschewing tobbaco, d4 damage + infection on 1 in 6caltrops

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[Kror]

Grin Grin suddently wakes up feeling dump and pressure all around him. *What the hell!* He feels the taste of dirt in his mouth and starts to free himself from the grave, his memories starting to came back to him. *I must have been burried alive... That son of a @#&° cant even do a proper job killing me* Checking his belogings he sees that everything is in order, except for his food and wine. *Wait... Where's my weapon?? Someone must have stolen it, damn luck!!* Kror digs the ground around his grave trying to find it, feeling something hard he pulls it out of the dirt. Looking in desbelif he realise Its just an old femur, gods know from whom. *Well i guess this will have to do for now* Just now Kror realises he is not alone, three others were near him, poor bastards had the same fate as he.

 

Dice Roll:

1d6

3

[Mallothi]

Rumors abound when it comes to the sprawling cemetery Graven-Tosk. Everyone seems to have heard something about the place, and none of it is good. There's no accounting for the reliability of these tidbits.

[ElderOblex]

Vort Stubby but strong fingers broke through rotting wood and black earth. Its nails were sharp, akin to claws, and the back of its palm was covered in coarse hair. Yet it was human; or it seemed human. A burnt, scarred face appeared next, dried blood and dirt caked on like a macabre cosmetic. He retched violently, spewing black sludge on some of the furs that covered him and the space that was once his second grave. The man, if you could call him a man, was short; almost completely covered by the thick mist that covered the entirety of Graven-Tosk. All this to indicate that, I am... still alive? Vort sounded... disappointed somewhat, but a part of him was truly other now, ever since that night in the Wästland... He heard other voices. Through the fog. His head was still dizzy; reeling. There was one that seemed questioning; another more of in jest? Vort started climbing out from the hole in the ground. He was almost to the point of drooling; such was the hunger and the void in his belly. Another voice, not audible, seemed to tell him that this graveyard was so massive that it was pointless to escape. Vort crushed it. Instead of responding to any of the voices, he began sniffing. Sniffing at other graves, sniffing at leftover belongings, at his own wagon that used to keep his tools; anywhere that could be hiding food or drink.

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Quick Stats   Name: Vort | Class: Cursed Skinwalker | HP: 6/6 | Omens: 1 (d2) Strength: +2 | Agility: +2 | Presence: -1 | Toughness: +1 Class Specials: Give into the advances of your antithetical other and change your very anatomy into the likeness of its being. Shifting your bones as such occupies a single painful round but does nothing to soothe your wounds. Armor and weapons are likely unusable in your new form.Shifting Bones | Hulking and massive: tests for Strength and Toughness, as well as attacks, are DR10. Defence is DR14. Thick hide, -d4 incoming damage. Your claws and bite deal d8 damage.Bear from Bergen Chrypt Weapon: Mace (d6) | Armor: -d2 dmg, tier 1Fur | Shield: none Silver/Equipment: 107s, waterskin, 4 days' food, small wagon, 5 stickschalk, 10 nails, tongs, hammer, small saw, drillToolbox

[Ursinorum]

Lygan Lygan approached the big ugly stranger. "No drinking, I'm afraid." Then nodded to him "Lygan here." Looking at the big stranger and the man with a bone in his hand he added. "Is this Graven-Tosk? I always thought graveyards as cold places.. I see a cart there.." he pointed at the carriage not far off. "We could use that to get the heck out of here." Then, Lygan noticed a man sniffing around like a dog. *..gods.. maybe for some life is worse than death..*

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Quick Stats Name: Lygan | Class: Gutterborn Scum | HP: 5/5 | Omens: 1 (d2) Strength: -3 | Agility: 0 | Presence: 0 | Toughness: 0 Class Specials: All Presence and Agility tests have their DR reduced by 2 (normal tests are DR10 instead of DR12).Stealthy | When attacking by surprise test Agility DR10. On a success you automatically hit once with a light one-handed weapon, dealing normal damage +3.Coward's Job Weapon: Sword (d6) | Armor: nope | Shield: No Silver/Equipment: 14s, Skull, Empty Waterskin, Rope 30m, Light or pitch black for 3d10 minutesFalse Dawn/Night's Chariot (sacred scroll)

[Mallothi]

Originally Posted by ElderOblex

Instead of responding to any of the voices, he began sniffing. Sniffing at other graves, sniffing at leftover belongings, at his own wagon that used to keep his tools; anywhere that could be hiding food or drink.

GM Not a scrap, not a single crumb can be lifted from among Vort's possessions. His cart, too, sits empty - upended in a tangle of thorny brush a few paces from his grave. Nothing. A careful search of the grounds surrounding the graves reveals a more promising option: hunting. Vort notices a rotten-smelling ooze smeared over the dirt in places. He's able to follow the trail and its meaty stink to a pile of granular droppings and papery shed skin. Meatroaches. As disgusting as the massive, biting insects look, they make for delicious eating. Everyone knows there's nothing better than a fat meatroach roasted over an open flame--so long as you can manage to remove its poisonous murder-appendix first. There's more. Many of the bones scattered about have been cracked open, and the marrow has been sucked out. Grim-toothed squirrels, most likely. Easier prey than the meatroach, perhaps, but not as filling. A stone fountain, long-stagnant, holds the only trace of water nearby. The gray pool is skimmed in a thick layer of putrid grease, and at least one corpse has seen fit to spend eternity bathing there.

GM - Mechanics Test Presence DR10 (easier because you've already found animal signs) to look for potential feasts. You can hunt while you move. In other words, hunting will count as the random encounter that would normally trigger when travelling between two main locations in the scenario. If a PC wants to search for anything other than food (e.g. looting graves, inspecting headstones, etc.) test Presence DR12.

[Kror]

Grin Grin takes a walk around trying to find something to eat, maybe some of those meatroaches. "I supposed this is Graven-Tosk, yeah. Im Grin by the way" Grin says looking to Lycan. "Looks like we will need to find out way out of here. Gonna take a look around, see if i can find something to eat, we will not last long on this place if we cant get food." Hope I can find some of those delicious meatroaches

[Gilgameshi]

Haerü There was no drink to be had from these strangers. "Too bad," he replied to Lygan. It crossed Haerü's mind that perhaps at least one of them was hiding a bottle or two, but perhaps he could rummage around as well? Surely one of these sad deaders had left something good behind... "Bet ya dat fount der got sumtin' ta drink... Guess not. Name's Haerü."

OOC   Presence roll: 6

Quick Stats   Name: Haerü | Class: Fanged Deserter | HP: 10/10 | Omens: 1 (d2) Strength: +3 | Agility: +/-0 | Presence: +1 | Toughness: +2 Class Specials: Agility tests are DR+2, excluding defence. You are incapable of understanding scrolls.Clumsy & Dull-witted | DR10 to attack, d6 damage. You must be close to your target. 1-2 on d6 chance the enemy gets a free attack.Bite Attack | Four weird teeth rattle within a blackened pouch. Before a battle roll d6 for each one. For every 6 one of your attacks deals maximum damage.Wizard Teeth Weapon: d6 damage, 11 arrowsBow | Armor: -d6 damage, tier 3, DR+4 on Agility tests, defence DR+2Splint | Shield: N Silver/Equipment: 73s, small wagon, waterskin + 4 days' rations, 3 doseschewing tobbaco, d4 damage + infection on 1 in 6caltrops, 1 damagemousetrap

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[Mallothi]

Originally Posted by Gilgameshi

It crossed Haerü's mind that perhaps at least one of them was hiding a bottle or two, but perhaps he could rummage around as well? Surely one of these sad deaders had left something good behind...

Haerü's search is mostly fruitless. It's possible his mind is still muddled from the beating he took before being buried. That, or the corpses in the immediate vicinity have already been picked clean. Either way, all the fanged giant is able to recover is a Can be used to deal 1 damagemousetrap and a Read: “hopeless amount of INEDIBLE spiders”hopeless amount of spiders.

[ElderOblex]

Vort Finally. There it was, wafting off just beyond his nostrils. The small, tooth-like marks on the bones, the absent marrow; squirrels, he thought. Quick little rodents, but soft. An easy meal. Vort followed the direction depends on the GM, I guess? trail, his mind already on hunting mode. Let the others follow if they wished; he cared little for them. Vort hunkered down from his already short stature and dove deeper into the fog, hardly seen by the other three walking corpses, save for the soft patter of his bare feet on bare earth. He gave no actual toss that he was in the middle of the inescapable spread that was Graven-Tosk; survival was living from one moment to the next.

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Quick Stats   Name: Vort | Class: Cursed Skinwalker | HP: 6/6 | Omens: 1 (d2) Strength: +2 | Agility: +2 | Presence: -1 | Toughness: +1 Class Specials: Give into the advances of your antithetical other and change your very anatomy into the likeness of its being. Shifting your bones as such occupies a single painful round but does nothing to soothe your wounds. Armor and weapons are likely unusable in your new form.Shifting Bones | Hulking and massive: tests for Strength and Toughness, as well as attacks, are DR10. Defence is DR14. Thick hide, -d4 incoming damage. Your claws and bite deal d8 damage.Bear from Bergen Chrypt Weapon: Mace (d6) | Armor: -d2 dmg, tier 1Fur | Shield: none Silver/Equipment: 107s, empty waterskin, small wagon (currently not brought), 5 stickschalk, 10 nails, tongs, hammer, small saw, drillToolbox

[Ursinorum]

Lygan "Grin.." he acknowledged with a nod.. "I guess we should try and understand where we are, to decide where to go.." he looked around in the fog and spotted a tall marble structure -or maybe it was a tree? Nonetheless it was the highest thing in sight. Despite the grumble in his belly, Lygan tried climbing the shape, to try and look around. But after a few feet up he slipped on the moisture and fell badly.

OOC Rolled a 1 on Agility, great first skill check for the thief-pc

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Quick Stats Name: Lygan | Class: Gutterborn Scum | HP: 5/5 | Omens: 1 (d2) Strength: -3 | Agility: 0 | Presence: 0 | Toughness: 0 Class Specials: All Presence and Agility tests have their DR reduced by 2 (normal tests are DR10 instead of DR12).Stealthy | When attacking by surprise test Agility DR10. On a success you automatically hit once with a light one-handed weapon, dealing normal damage +3.Coward's Job Weapon: Sword (d6) | Armor: nope | Shield: No Silver/Equipment: 14s, Skull, Empty Waterskin, Rope 30m, Light or pitch black for 3d10 minutesFalse Dawn/Night's Chariot (sacred scroll)

[Kror]

Grin Grin laughs out loud as Lygan stumbles to the ground. what was he thinking?! I start to feel that im surrounded by idiots! "I think we better choose a general direction and start walking, we could hunt as we go, and maybe we are fortunate enough to stumble on a pool of water. We need to get out of this graveyard if we want to live. I say we walk West, dont ask me why, call it a gut feeling. Kror looks to the others for a reply

[Gilgameshi]

Haerü Thebig lug' shoulders shook a little as he too shared a chuckle with Grin - cuz he laughs so much, eh? Heh. Funny, dat... - as he witnessed Lygan fall from trying to climb the fountain. "Ya lookin' fo' a bat', mate," Haerü joked, "Try a flop'ouse, eh? Or're ya supposed to be some clown afore?" Haerü shrugged when Grin suggested they go west. Good as any other way, in this gods-forsaken place. "Oy, where'd da little man go?"

Quick Stats   Name: Haerü | Class: Fanged Deserter | HP: 10/10 | Omens: 1 (d2) Strength: +3 | Agility: +/-0 | Presence: +1 | Toughness: +2 Class Specials: Agility tests are DR+2, excluding defence. You are incapable of understanding scrolls.Clumsy & Dull-witted | DR10 to attack, d6 damage. You must be close to your target. 1-2 on d6 chance the enemy gets a free attack.Bite Attack | Four weird teeth rattle within a blackened pouch. Before a battle roll d6 for each one. For every 6 one of your attacks deals maximum damage.Wizard Teeth Weapon: d6 damage, 11 arrowsBow | Armor: -d6 damage, tier 3, DR+4 on Agility tests, defence DR+2Splint | Shield: N Silver/Equipment: 73s, small wagon, waterskin + 4 days' rations, 3 doseschewing tobbaco, d4 damage + infection on 1 in 6caltrops, 1 damagemousetrap

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