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Old Dec 6th, 2021, 01:30 PM
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The Moonrakers

The Hideout
THE MOONRAKERS

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A crew of ambitious smugglers who deal in weird and arcane cargo. Surrounded by more powerful gangs and factions, and with little more than a boat and a few coin to their name, they found haven in Six Towers. The entire district was already avoided by most of Duskwall's citizenry, dismissed as ancient and haunted. Few ventured beyond the handful of upscale city blocks on Coleburn Avenue and Bowmore Way, and fewer still trekked all the way into the Northeast corner, past the dark and foreboding castle of Rowan House and into Mistshore Park.

The radiance from Duskwall's Eastern lightning barrier provides ample energy for the park's flora. In fact, it is one of the few areas in the city where true trees, shrubs, grasses, and even the occasional flower grow with wild abandon. The urban legends of star-crossed lovers committing suicide has lead to a general consensus that the park is haunted and overrun with spirits, which it definitely is, though the actual reasoning may or may not have anything to do with the stories. In any case, Mistshore Park is relatively free from trespassers, save for the occasional poverty-stricken citizen whose hunger has over-ridden their fear and enter in search of mushrooms or the occasional feral chicken.

If one of these poor souls were to blaze a trail through the choking, overgrown greenery all the way to the water's edge, they might spot the remains of an old, abandoned lighthouse. Why one would have been built so far inland might have been a mystery, but Duskwall is a living, evolving city, and the Deathlands doubly so. Who knows? Perhaps a hundred years ago earthquakes or leviathans or a vengeful Forgotten God rent the land asunder and left a river where once had been sea. Regardless, this old structure remains standing, jutting out on a small manmade cape of stone blocks. The bridge leading to it has since crumbled away, and there is no easy way to access the lighthouse, nor the small shack attached to it. At least, not from the land...

On the opposite side of the cape, hidden from the park, a small cove leads underneath the lighthouse. Inside is a simple stone dock, partially smoothed and eroded by time, but still sturdy enough to allow a boat to take shelter from the river tides. Further underground a natural cave holds ankle-deep seawater and sustains a mini-ecosystem of canal weed, watermoss, and algae that feeds both hand-sized eel and a small forest of mushrooms.

A handful of rooms have been allocated as bedrooms and a communal living space. Musty, outdated furniture has been "reclaimed" from other parts of Duskwall to give the crew a place to stay protected as a group.

Charon has been retrofitted with an unassuming paintjob, paneling, and emblems to make it seem like a civilian boat when at rest. Unfortunately, while she's moving the amount of smoke belching from her smokestack gives her away as a conspicuous (and illegal) smuggling barge.




It was hard to imagine anything "state of the art" existing inside the crumbling stone and rotten wood of the Moonrakers' abandoned lighthouse. And yet, somehow they had scraped together enough Coin to install a workshop that would make even Charterhall Academics give a second-look! Khunbish had ample space and equipment to tinker with any gadgets or alchemical formulae he wanted and, what's more, a full research laboratory for Luigi and any occultic practices or rituals he dared toy with. There was even a telescope installed in the lighthouse's upper reaches! Not to look up at a black, empty sky... but to look down into Akorosian waters whose depths revealed an ever-changing array of constellations and heavenly bodies! A mystery surely worth exploring...

With their remaining resources the smugglers invest in some real tools; two-handed sledges, cold-forged crowbars, actual dynamite, high-tensile drill bits, as well as a full assortment of picks, small screwdrivers, and jeweler's equipment to cover any situation the find themselves in!


The Annals
The Annals
 


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Last edited by MoldyNolds; May 11th, 2022 at 05:30 PM.
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Old Dec 8th, 2021, 01:47 PM
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Game StartAfter setting up shop and getting a couple smuggling runs under their belt The Moonrakers find Gained a Contact!a fast friend in Nyelle. The woman runs a small, three room clinic in the middle of Coalridge's industrial park and sells the odd spirit to the crew now and then, whenever she loses a life and is able to bottle the ghost before the Spirit Wardens show up. Trafficking spirits in one's and two's is barely worth the profit, but Nyelle also hears rumors that circulate throughout the laboring district; shipments, times and amounts, security details... in exchange for a bit of extra legwork the gruesome nurse has more than made up for her limited business. She has made it quite clear from the beginning of their relationship, however, that under no circumstances are you to ask about the pins in her chest...

Nyelle is quite popular with Duskwall's Laborers, and as such The Moonrakers enjoy a Laborers: +1 Status gain!small bit of notoriety. She does have some baggage, however... The Billhooks have tried shaking her down for protection money on several occasions, only to have been rebuffed. They The Billhooks: -1 Status loss!take a dim view of anyone associated with her now!




It doesn't take long before The Moonrakers realize they have intruded upon another faction's territory. The Deathlands Scavengers have found profit in smuggling the wild, untamed spirits from out in the wastes and, knowingly or not, The Moonrakers have begun to snake a few low-level clients from them! Deciding it best to avoid the ire of a more powerful faction, they Deathlands Scavengers: No Status loss!pay a tithe to the Scavengers for selling to mutual clients.



Looking to Crew Upgrade: Quarters!outfit their abandoned lighthouse with accommodations for the whole crew, The Moonrakers strongarm their way through a few flophouses in Charhollow, loading up their boat with musty, outdated furniture; beds, linens, nightstands, tables, chairs, kitchen utensils, etc... The poor and the destitute that call that area home can do little to stop the crew, although The Lost The Lost: -2 Status loss!don't take too kindly to smugglers stepping on the less fortunate...



When it comes to their boat, Charon, safety is paramount. The ability to Crew Upgrade: Camouflage!keep it inconspicuous during smuggling runs would be a great boon. The Moonrakers turn to an unlikely faction for aid. In return for The Grey Cloaks: +1 Status gain!a shipment of "misplaced" leviathan blood to power their generators, The Grey Cloaks are able to provide the crew with a few key tips to give their vehicle a low-profile and escape the notice of The Bluecoats and other law enforcement agencies... most of the time.
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Last edited by MoldyNolds; Apr 13th, 2022 at 01:34 PM.
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Old Jan 5th, 2022, 01:27 PM
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Old Jan 5th, 2022, 04:56 PM
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Old Jan 5th, 2022, 07:00 PM
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Old Jan 5th, 2022, 07:39 PM
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Clear Ky's Stat Block
 


Clear Ky, the Iruvian Wisp
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Name: Kyrah Zargari

Alias: Ky / Clear Ky

Playbook: Lurk (Secondary choices: Spider or Leech, in that order - only minor revision required)

Look: By Duskvol standards, Ky is not especially attractive, despite her exotic Iruvian skin; she's just a little too bony, her teeth seem a little too big for her jawline, and she can be obnoxiously loud-mouthed. She's barely into her twenties but is already starting to look more weathered than that. But she keeps a clean appearance and wears tasteful blouses only barely within her means, and that counts for a lot when she spends most of her time either on the fringes of Nightmarket, the salacious dives of Silkshore or her tenement in Charhollow. When 'out on the town' she turns heads for her intoxicated boisterousness; her full street name, 'Clear Ky', is both a remark on her sunny disposition when high on her indulgences, and a pun on how she borders on becoming 'clear as mud' when deep in fungal brew.

While she's a social butterfly in the broadest sense, she chooses her company. Her two key criteria are usefulness and entertainment - if you can provide a useful service, or make Ky laugh, you're good company. Do neither, and you'd better be buying drinks. Do both, and she'll shout a round to keep you in orbit. Having put up with some oddballs in the upper echelons of society who have the money to have their depravities marketed as eccentricities, Ky's tolerance for non-supernatural strangeness is moderately high, as long as she can keep it at arm's length, although her facade may crack quickly after repeated exposure or escalating threat.

Despite the flattering clothing, Ky rarely travels empty-handed. A puffy accessory can conceal slender tools; thick shoes for the rain-soaked cobbles can conceal a tiny knife. She has a long history of mischief, and usually has something on hand to allow her into the secret places of Doskvol, if she's so inclined. And with a devil-may-care attitude that easily sinks into agitated boredom, she is very often inclined. When equipping herself for a proper job, she has blouses with the frill and puff and dress cut away to prevent anything getting caught on a fence or doorway, while convincing herself she still looks stylish.

Motivation: Freedom

Ky has no love for the ties and obligations of being the cream of society, even while she covets the luxuries. She seeks to enjoy their pleasures while removing herself from responsibility. For now, that removal has cut her off from her old comforts, as her father has disavowed her.

Necessity has sparked a dormant work ethic in Ky, a chronic procrastinator as a student. She makes a living with idle labour, using her limited education and competent literacy for the occasional assistant or clerk occupation. She never lasts long. A job is not in her blood. More often, she hears idle talk about someone needing a less legitimate job done, and takes the initiative. Her former antics as a college student may not have taught her much, but she picked plenty of locks between classes - she knows how to get through a stubborn door and stay hidden.

Heritage/Background: Iruvian / Noble

Ky's family has some limited prestige. Her father is Iruvian lesser nobility, and carried his family to Doskvol ten years ago to pursue his elevation in political favour closer to the Imperial heartland.

Ky is the youngest of three children, and the only surviving scion; her bullish brother Amen was knifed in Silkshore over a debt to a brothel, and her sister Nadia vanished three years ago in mysterious circumstances. Their mother is sickly, and rarely leaves the family estate. Ky has spent as many years in Doskvol than in Iruvia, and learned from her brother's recklessness.

With additional pressure placed upon her to carry the family name, Ky was enrolled in the College of Imperial Science to study law and political science. She was a terrible student, made worse by her penchant for pranks - she was good at sneaking through the college and planting seeds of chaos for her own amusement. When she inevitably dropped out, her estrangement from her father was irrevocable.

Vice/Purveyor: Pleasure

Ky's youth was not luxurious by the standards of most faux-noble waifs, but she has fallen far from her childhood standards of comfort. For her, the pursuit of ecstasy reconnects her to better, more innocent days. She favours drink (frequenting multiple taverns such as the Harping Monkey in Nightmarket - she'll covet good cap wine if she can get it), carnal delights (spread across multiple dalliances and occasional visits to Silkshore) and the occasional bathhouse pampering (especially in Crow's Foot).

For now, she has a fairly solid control of these indulgences. Balance is tenuous, though. Her temperament is positive, but fragile. It may not take much to veer into desperate escapism, if misfortune piles upon her just as she's starting to crawl her way upward from her apparent nadir.

Dangerous Friends:

Friend/Ally: Roslyn Kellis. Ky has had several lovers, but the minor nobleman's wife Roslyn is her most regular paramour. Trapped in a loveless marriage with stagnant social currency, Roslyn has happily indulged in Ky's exuberance and the token thrill of an affair with a firebrand Iruvian, and Ky in turn has benefited from a noble woman's favour, but the two are growing bored with each other. Their tryst is slowly becoming defined by routine over passion, and although they still enjoy each others' company, they're both aware that their relationship is due for change - for better or worse. The Kellis estate is a small footnote to the former glory of northern Six Towers.

Rival/Enemy: Bahman Zargari. Ky's father has a nominal position within the Ministry of Preservation, but this does not give Ky any political connections. If anything, it makes her more vulnerable. Bahman covets his status and has cut all ties with his daughter over her prior embarrassments, her abandonment of her studies being the final straw. There will be no favours here; if Ky gets her father's attention or causes him further embarrassment, he will move quickly to insulate himself from scandal - even if it means ensuring she doesn't trouble him further. He lives in Charterhall, and is also known to visit Nightmarket frequently for exotic goods that remind him of his homeland.

Do you have access to the BitD rulebook? Yup!

Have you played BitD before? Nope! But I've perused the book before.
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Old Jan 6th, 2022, 10:34 AM
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Old Feb 22nd, 2022, 07:10 PM
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Thalente Stat Block
 


Thalente
Name: Thalente ('Thal') (he/him)

Alias: Stone

Playbook: Cutter

Look: dark-skinned and mostly-dark-haired, except for some grey flecks. Thal is somewhere in his late thirties (he's lost track) and feels the weight of his laborious life, although his body is still strong and muscular. His expression is often stoic. He is verbose once he's inclined to talk, but monotone in a deep rumble.

Motivation: Penance and a 'good death'

Thal has many regrets from his life - a lot of people he's killed because the gods of his people commanded him to, and a lot of atrocities he committed for his own sake. He talks little of it, but has survivor's guilt from the holy wars of his homeland. He seeks penance through ordeal and hardship, as he seeks the resting place of his deity lost somewhere at sea. If he is killed along the way, then he wants it to be on his terms, going down as a selfless protector or an honourable warrior rather than as an immoral slaughterer.

Heritage/Background: Severos / Labour

Once, Thal served an obscure pantheon of old gods he now only addresses as the Brothers. They were animistic deities with cults in the deepest reaches of the Severos flatlands, and as Thal tells it, they were selfish patrons to their flock, demanding blood duels and sacrifice for their own amusement. Thal excelled at the duels, and even enjoyed his status. But he loathed the gods that kept his people on a leash.

As he tells it, a new god arose from within the ranks of the Brothers. This one he does name: Anele the Child. Thal was quick to align with Anele, who promised an end to the tyranny of his kin. The years that followed were savage. Anele's devotees lost the conflict. Anele himself was cast from Thal's homelands, buried somewhere at sea as punishment for trying to overthrow his fraternity. Anele the Child became Anele the Drowned. Thal fled, finding his way to Ironside, and made a promise to find his lost god.

He has worked on ships ever since, looking for a sign of Anele. That was ... ten years ago? Fifteen? Long enough to start to turn grey and creased. He's not an old man yet, but he feels time catching up with him.

He docks often at major imperial ports, especially Duskvol, and takes what work seems challenging or rewarding to him while he waits for new opportunities to set sail - provided his contacts seem trustworthy. In the meantime he seeks rumours of strangeness on the seas, or the whispers of dead gods - anything which might aid his fruitless search.

Vice/Purveyor: Faith

Thal has always been beholden to a god. First it was the Brothers pantheon in general, and then it was the dissident Brother Anele, who has been banished to sea. Thal isn't sure if he's looking for a prison or a tomb, but he looks nonetheless. He spends most of his time in contemplation of Anele by the docks, but sometimes visits Ilacille at the temple of forgotten gods in Coalridge, hoping for some whisper of insight.

Dangerous Friends:

Friend/Ally: Emmett No-Trunk. Considering Emmett both has a mangled nose from a bar brawl and is rumoured to be a eunuch, no one knows which 'Trunk' his moniker refers to. Considering his reputation in underground fight rings, it's a question better left unasked. He's a scavenger and docker who's taken a liking to Thal, recognising a fellow grizzled fighter, and the two often socialise when Thal is in Duskvol.

Rival/Enemy: Siphokazi. Thal has clashed with holy warriors carrying the vengeance of the Brothers many times, and he's had the measure of them every time. Siphokazi (she takes offense to anyone shortening the name) is one of the fresher zealots, and she has been hunting Thal for some time now. They've clashed before, but their encounters often end in stalemates or narrow escapes. Currently she's the most formidable and dogged of the Brothers' hunters.
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Old Apr 11th, 2022, 03:09 PM
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Name: Ken Southern

Alias: Pawn

Playbook: Cutter


Look: Ken is the Apollonian marble given flesh, the ideal self-portrait made three dimensional; he is young, brash, devil-may-care — everything and anything associated with raw, primeval masculinity. Conversely, his persona is that of a two-bit hood.

Ken, like many young men with far too much talent and far too little know-how, cannot help but concern himself with the innumerable, vacuous matters of self-import, such as: social hierarchy, fashion, trendiness, amassing wealth, becoming famous, etcetera-etcetera. This explains why his manner of dress, though simple and utilitarian, is made-up of many different "eye-catchers" that go above and beyond garish or rough-around-edges; for example: a ratty, crimson-colored leather jacket he is determined to be buried in; the gold and dagger-shaped earring dangling from his right ear; that messy, cherub-like mane which curls down to his shoulders; a skintight undershirt; some combat boots; torn and patched work pants — cutting to the chase: he looks a mess, but a handsome, impressively-built (sculptedrippedjackedstatuesque), and purposefully cultivated mess. Plus… grunge-chic is in now, haven't you heard?

Personality-wise, Ken is atypical. While certainly vainglorious, braggadocious, cocksure, headstrong… behind all of that, beneath all of the gaudy gear and fine muscle, lies the spirit of a thoughtful, deeply contemplative man; someone who is quiet, introspective, and in tune with the natural world beyond its mere physicality. But that's deep down. Way, way down. Way, way, waaaaaaaay down. So far down you wouldn't even know it was there. Like, we're talking Ogre-levels of layers here. Still, it's there… somewhere. That counts for something!


Motivation: To find purpose, even if that means being a bright candle burning in the wind.

All that hidden sentimentality isn't just a coping mechanism for a lack direction. Ken's soul really is that of the archetypical philosopher-king, unwavering virtue and all; however, his mind and body remain confined by the very real, very immediate and present, psychic-siphon that is life in modernity.

Amongst the modern — those whose time is consumed by the rat-race of life, or spent within the lap of luxury as hedonists without a mote shame — it is nigh-impossible to remain true to oneself. Such an existence is one of constant moral, ethical, and spiritual compromise.

It is a battle — each and every day is a battle.

A psycho-spiritual war.

You must mete thine will against the world, else the world mete its will unto you.

Yet, Ken is barely conscious of these things. They are but a low, reverberating hum deep within his heart that can but growl at every transgression. He knows when something isn't right but hasn't insight enough to call it by name.

A pity.


Heritage/Background: Underworld/Doskovol.

Ken has spent the majority of his misguided youth chasing cheap thrills and wondering why they never fulfilled him. Having always been broad and brawny, it didn't take long for him to understand the great benefit of being able to assert oneself physically. As it so happened, it didn't take long for other, more industrious minds to realize either.

After all, being a strapping hoodlum from a working-class family, it was easy for predatory business folk to tempt Ken from the simple life with promises of fame and fortune. So it was when one such hawkish mind preyed upon him with the unrealized dream of a boxing career. He jumped at the chance.

Alas, all that glitters is not gold. There was undoubtedly money and fame to be had in organized combat, but the kind which had been foretold was not that which had been offered; instead, Rich became tangled in the dangerous web of underground title fights; it was bloodsport.

And. . . yes, of course, there is money to be made in such. A lot of it. But the cuts are heavily skewed and the risks are oftentimes crippling. Oh yes, indeed, there is fame and notoriety abound, too — nothing so glamorous as that which is reported in the sports section of the papers, mind you; no trips to far off, exotic locales, nor congratulations from state dignitaries to make it all feel worth it. Unless, of course, you count that one time he fought in a sewer and got a pat on the back from a sweaty, rat-faced mobster named Fink.


Vice/Purveyor: Stupor


Fighting. Beating people up. Getting beat up. Falling to his knees, broken, only to get back up again and ask for more.

It's cathartic.
It's invigorating.
It's spiritual.

The one good thing that came out of his early run-in with brawlers and their ilk is the great and mighty euphoria he discovered whilst in midst of combat. There is nothing that can compare, and there is precious little more innate to the human experience than the testing one's mettle against another (or several anothers, as is often the case).

Sometimes it's like running up against a brick wall, other times like stripping a fine flower, but each and every occasion there is a moment of unparalleled satisfaction that simply cannot be found anywhere else.


Dangerous Friends:
Friend: Harry Blankenship – Coach/Personal Trainer: Once a heavyweight champion in the big leagues, Harry was actually the first person to scout Ken for the circuit. However, it wasn't his intention to stoop to the seedy underbelly like they did. The initial idea was to secure funding from whomsoever would take a chance and, later on, make a bid for some respectable titles. Dreams and reality are often far and apart, sadly. Their first financier happened to be an incognito loan shark for a syndicate of above-board businessmen making a killing pitting crooks against one another in backalley bouts.

Having always felt guilty about the way things turned out, and still hopeful that they might someday change, Harry has stuck around to keep the dream alive and see that Ken doesn't end up like him, old and defeated.

Rival: Erin Lorde – Fight Manager/Loan Shark She who started this mess, self-proclaimed "Lord Erin", was but an upstart wheeler and dealer for one of the major syndicate players before her big break entrapping Rich put her on the fast track. Now, Erin handles the coordination of all the K's fights, like a sports agent of sorts — albeit, an unrepentantly corrupt and spiteful one.

She's mean, all-business, and would throw any and everyone under a carriage, including Ken, if it meant a promotion.



 

Last edited by Chylopan; Apr 12th, 2022 at 09:11 AM.
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Old Apr 12th, 2022, 11:35 PM
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