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Old 06-29-2019, 11:47 AM
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[Symbaroum] Into Chaos

Symbaroum - New Beginnings




Trailer - New Beginnings
In the deep forest, we awoke a Darkness. Terrible and cruel. Evil in every imaginable way. Our hubris doomed us. We thought we had become Gods of the World and nothing could prevent our Glory. Now we are dying. Surrounded by an evil of our own making. An evil that we cannot hide from and only hope we can return it to that prison of its keeping before it takes the life of all of us. Of all the forest. Of everything.

Last Field Notebook Entry
Arch-General Jan Žižka z Trocnova a Kalicha
Symbaroum


She hung upside down by a length of greenery woven round one ankle some meters above the ground from a great gnarled tree. Her other leg was splayed out away from her, the hip angled unnaturally, the foot turned in a manner not usual. Something had cut into her on both sides just under the line of her rib cage. Things had been removed and displayed on the ground around her. Her intestines had been coiled into a tight spiral as if bloody hands marched in ever wider circles under her clotted black gaze and slowly doled out her loops. Her liver was placed at the point west. Her spleen - east. Her lungs - south. And her heart - north. Despite the breeze, her body did not twirl but hung silent, arms stretched down under her head as if reaching for relief or to reclaim what had been taken from her.

Kela walked back from her inspection, having made sure the area around the hanging woman was safe. She touched nothing. Bendel and the men of the expedition stood some ways off, most of their eyes averted. A few wiping lips of their wet worry.

"Gutted," Kela said.

"Skin's marked all over. Curled symbols. Her blood i'magine. Parts set like compass points. Her eyes lookin from in center"

"What," Bendal said.

Kela was a tough woman. Few guides like her, man or woman. She frowned at Bendel and spit near his shoes.

"They carved'er eyes out an put'em there," she said, pointing to the center of the whorl of the woman's intestines.

Bendel's head followed Kela's pointing hand and he swallowed.

"Least they left all of'er to give an'bury to Prios," one of the men said.

Kela shook her head and walked past them. "Nah. They took the baby I see."

"What," Bendel said for a second time sounding more like a boy than a man.

Kela continued walking until she was almost at the edge of the clearing before turning round to glare. Stupid Ambrians.

"They cut babe out from inside'er. Buried the placenta next to tree. Least I see it so. Babe could be there, but mound too small. An life-cord is left out in dirt. Lined out purpose like leading back to mother," Kela said slowly so as to not have to repeat herself. She reached into her cloak and tossed her bag of gold she received as an advanced at Bendel's feet.

"Not so fast," Bendel shouted. "You've been paid ta'guide."

Kela shrugged.

"Barbarian coward."

"Aye. Coward an worse. But no elf did that. An it wasn't left fer'us ta find. We lucky is all," Kela said before turning away to retreat from this part of Davokar. She'd walk all the way back to Thistlehold. Have a few drinks. Find a good man or woman. And try to forget. It would hurt her standing as a guide a little, but she didn't care. Fools talked themselves out of a gift omen and continued deeper. They were dead and forgotten. As far as she considered, she'd stay livin. Heck, some may even pay her for the line to this spot, whether they be pious simpletons seeking their sun gods glory or ordo-magica hunters anglin for a ripe new specimen. Didn't matter to her as long as it made her warm and cozy for a few weeks until she could claim a job in the other direction.

"You'll regret this," Bendel started to yell after her until more bags of coin plopped near his feet as men moved quickly to follow Kela before loosing her in the dense wood.

"Damn," Bendel said, bending over to pick up the gold, waiting a moment before sighing and then quickly making up the lost distance between him and those running.



Game System : Symbaroum

Theme : Discovery, Exploration, Riches and Renown, Conquest, Nation Building.

Flavour : Dark Fantasy. Horror.

Dreams of an EmpireFleeing ancestral lands blighted by the Great War against the Dark Lords, the people of Alberetor follow their masked Queen, Korinthia Night-Bane, into the new land of Ambria. By force of arms and words, Ambria is settled and colonized. Barbarian clans are either subdued, decimated, or pacified by alliance and mutual gain. Cities are built. Society re-established. Life begins anew. Those people and houses that survived the Great War are rugged and hard, determined to rebuild an Empire so strong that no such evil as the Dark Lords will threaten them again. They spread boldly across the land nestled between the Titans to the south and the dark forest Davokar to the north, unrelentingly pursuing a destiny of rebirth and grandeur.

Against them are an array of dangers and obstacles. The remaining barbarian clans attempt to hold their lands against encroachment and loss. The Elves of Davokar profess an ancient Iron Pact gives them right to refuse exploration into the deep of the dark forest and kill any who attempt it. And Davokar itself, an expanse of riches and possibility whose extent is unknown, throws its shadow across Ambria. Will Korinthia Night-Bane and her people build an empire of wonder and achievement? Or will they repeat a history of war and death? Of awakening a darkness within them or in the depths of Davokar? Or will they learn that some paths are best left untraveled?

You are part of this history. The building of a new land. A new Empire. A New Beginning.

Will you live a forgettable life and die unknown or will your name fill the stories in the hall's of nobles, the taverns of cities, and the long huts of peasants?

Character CreationSymbaroum is a new system for me. I am interested in exploring the setting and how to make the rule-set work in PBP. As it is likely less known, there is a free quick start that can be found here or here. It is actually fairly detailed, 119 pages, and covers a good amount of the settings history and ideas along with gameplay. If your not familiar with the setting and rules and don't have the resources, I recommend picking up the Quick start and reading through it. It has enough to play and its free. And here is another Quick Start Guide that discusses Character Creation perhaps better then the longer Setting Quick Start Guide. I'm not sure why a section like this wasn't included in the longer Setting Quick Start but it may be easier to understand. It at lease mentions Archetypes (Warrior, Mystic, Rogue) in some degree. Also, the following videos may be of use in learning about the setting and the rule-set, Symbaroum Setting-True Mask Games and Basic Rules. I've only linked the first video in the series as opposed to the whole group by True Mask Games. There are obviously others. There are number of websites with resources but a good one with a number of downloads regarding the setting, character sheets, ability references, etcetera is here at Iron Pact.

Starting level will be as beginning per the rules, but I anticipate fairly quick advancement initially once we get used to the system. The most important point is that characters must fit thematically. They can be of any 'core' race with backgrounds involving any city, faction, or region within Symbaroum, but they must have a reason to desire Ambria's success. Barbarian characters should also in some way want Korinthia Night-Bane's people to succeed, at least initially. No character should believe the Iron Pact is true or, at least, worthy of enforcement and as such should harbor distrust and/or dislike of it and those who abide by its tenants.

Attributes can be created one of two ways - standard array (5, 7, 9, 10, 10, 11, 13, 15) or 80 point allotment as per the rules. No attribute should be <5 or >15.

Abilities. Either 3 at Novice and 1 at Adept or 5 6 at Novice per the book/quick start guidance (I initially made a small error in numbers so everyone starts with an extra Novice ability). We'll likely adjust.


ApplicationA full character sheet is not necessary to apply, but I would like to see the following.

1. Name, Race, Character Archetype or general idea (Only Core Races. No Advanced Rules Races please)

2. A description and also a picture.

3. Background. Tell me who they are, where they may call home (if that be any place in particular), and how their life has figured up until now. Provide at least one connection to a major group, family, or locality.

4. RP Sample. Give the character some life not just with action but also dialogue. Give me a sense of what's makes them tick, how he/she moves about the world, and your writing style.

ExpectationsGenerally, posting is every 3 days depending on what's going and the detail of the posting. At times, that obviously gets stretched or compressed, travel and exploration versus combat. Life happens. And unless in combat, it is rare that movement hinges on a single player's input. If, as I hope, this is a long running saga, we will have breaks and holidays. It's important I think to take those things and be fully present in them rather than thinking about the tendrils of darkness that is seeping into our make believe world.

I expect characters to die. You should too. But, I expect if and when they die it will be because of luck alone. The dice simply did not fall in their favor during an event that was within their ability. Sure, there may be times that characters attempt something just out of reach. I understand that kind of heroism. But, it will be obvious when they should absolutely run to live another day. If they don't, then death will be swift and horrible. Don't figure its a bluff. If it looks, and feels, and sounds like Death. Then trust that it is. You may need to surrender a time a two rather than fighting your way out when unmatched. Be careful. Combat is generally short and deadly in few turns on Symbaroum. Players who loose characters can, if they wish, rejoin with another.

But, a game is meant for fun. Which is what I expect why we want to play. If for whatever reason it is not, then I expect you to PM me or start an OOC to discuss. I also expect that players are in it to work with each other to survive. They may argue and at times hate each other. Inter-player conflict is allowable. But something must hold them to each other. It could very well be money and fame. Or that there are no others one trusts as much to be up to the task of achieving any of those goals. Possibly, they may be held together by something less mundane than riches. Either in the beginning or eventually.

About MeI'm a storyteller at heart. My games tend to be gritty and personal. Filled with NPC characters that you love and hate. People and places that your characters form lasting relationships with that are good and/or detrimental. My writing tends to be descriptive. I can be dark but I try to sprinkle it with lighter moments and humor, both at the character's expense and the World. I liberally use the hints, relationships, foibles, backgrounds, and anything else that players create to give their characters life. They more you give, the more I take and use. I may not use all of it or I may tuck it away for latter, but this is a cooperative creation. I would recommend you check out some of my character posts (i've really only two at the moment) or stories in the defunct story comp to get a sense of my writing and decide if dark fantasy and horror is something I might be able to pull off. I've done it before, but I'm biased.

Deadline/Start July 31

I've set the date a month out, especially as this may be a new system for some. I may start earlier with individual characters depending on the app, character presented, and numbers.

There will be a few House Rules regarding Corruption and spending of Experience points, which will be detailed in the game forum. And, although the system/tabletop has the GM rolling no dice, I don't feel this will work well for game flow or posting in PBP and as such will be rolling dice for NPC's, monsters, and mayhem.


Applications/Status

Player Character Race ArcheType Status
Begon Ugo Vrak Goblin Thief-Assassin Complete
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Roekahs Yulamon Barbarian Witch Hunter Complete
Perdition Alric the Widower Ambrian Rogue or Hunter Complete
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Phettberg Puppy Ogre Warrior Complete
Halfrogman Mincemeat Ogre Sellsword Complete
Berith Vosk Changeling Duelist Complete
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Krows Nest Roha Vunthin Changeling Sorcerer Wip
Mairien Mehira Argo Ambrian Mystic Complete
Gotha Bode Changeling Sorcerer Wip
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CharlesM Father Mikolio Ambrian Theurg Complete
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Last edited by GeneT; 07-13-2019 at 06:58 PM.
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Old 06-29-2019, 03:41 PM
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Vrak
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Name: Vrak

Race: Goblin

Character Archetype: Thief/Assassin

Burden: Pariah (As per Advanced Players Guide)

Boon: Cat Burglar

Description: Vrak is a bald, hook nosed little goblin. His wrinkled skin is a pale sallow color, unlike his more greenish brethren. This has earned him much unwanted and abusive attention from the others in his clan. He is a happy go lucky goblin who loves to smile but his jagged misshapen teeth tend to scare strangers. He travels in a tattered dark robe that hides his fragile form as well as the numerous cutting instruments that he keeps secreted away.

Background: Vrak hails from the trash and vermin infested streets of Seragon. Part of an itinerant crew of Sawtooth goblins tasked with keeping the vermin population under control within the city proper, Vrak spent his day hunting large disease carrying black rats, and venom seeping brown spiders that often gave as good as they got. Vrak used the opportunity presented by the hunt to hone his particular skills with a blade and at the same time to earn some extra money traveling uninvited from below ground into the more well off citizen's homes. Vrak would help himself to whatever he could get his grimy gnarled hands on and then seek to sell the ill-gained goods. This very rarely worked out in Vrak's favor as the little goblin, while quick of hand and wily of mind, was not very intelligent.

Having been caught with his small hands in the proverbial cookie jar one too many times, Vrak now finds himself truly homeless, oscillating between the chaotic yet good natured goblin that he is and the darker, opportunistically violent beast that he is slowly becoming.

RP Sample The proceeding promised to be short and Justice Willard smiled as he thought of Katrin's moist bread pudding waiting for him at home. Just one disturbance to the peace to deal with... a goblin...again. Willard tugged on his belt, settling it comfortably under his large belly as he sat down at his desk. Moments later, a pale yellow skinned, decidedly unhealthy goblin was brought before him. Willard winced as the goblin entered... he knew this goblin... everyone knew Vrak... and that was not a good thing.

Minutes later the judge stared mercilessly down at the diminutive goblin as it squirmed under his gaze. "This is the last time Vrak. You are hereby banished from Seragon... never to return on pain of death," the large bearded man said, his voice stern. Vrak looked up at the man, his face a blank slate, "Wasn't me judge... nope." The judge shook his head slowly and tugged on his beard. "Don't be ridiculous Vrak... you were caught wearing Lady Brenna's pearl necklace!" Vrak continued to stare at Willard, not blinking. "Nope... Not me."

Justice Willard was not without sympathy for goblins like Vrak. Their meager existence was pitiful in the extreme and so he tried to show leniency when he could... but not today... not for Vrak. "You were in her bedroom... wearing her PEARLS! It was you Vrak... there is no doubt!" The shifty yellow goblin shrugged his slight shoulders and looking everywhere but at Willard rasped, "Not Vrak... was Drev! He give em' to me! He run!" The judge slammed a meaty hand on his desk in exacerbation, "Enough Vrak! It was not Drev... DREV IS DEAD! Or did you forget that you killed him two weeks ago," Willard stared cynical daggers into the wide-eyed goblin, "Stabbed him in the throat...according to you... in self defense!

Vrak smiled a toothy grin, his pointy little teeth giving him a malicious leer as he looked up to Judge Willard and whispered, "Drev... is... a... zombie!" Five minutes later Vrak found himself deposited on the outskirts of Seragon, homeless and lost as to what to do next.
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Last edited by Begon Ugo; 07-06-2019 at 02:23 PM.
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Old 06-29-2019, 03:57 PM
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Name: Bode
Race: Changling
Archetype: Sorcerer
Description: Bode stands sly of average height with a narrow frame and thin build. White stringy hair flows freely from his head layering on themselves into wispy locks. His face is sharp featured and gaunt, his shadowy eye lids fading into almost black voidish eyes that leave many to ponder where his glare is staring. There is an unease to his gaze, something disquieting that can only be undone by the soothing poisonous words slipping off his tongue. His speech is calm in defalcated, deep but with a melodic femininity and rhythm that coddle people to his will. His clothing is simple but complex, dark dull colors intricately ornamented with faded designs and patterns of his people. Bode does not like to stand out but blend into the scenery, being the whispering temptress in one ears rather than the priest firing up a crowd. He detests brute force, prefers wit and cunning to push the situation in his favor but when push comes to shove he does what must be done. For all the brooding disdain hanging from his face he is a mark for a warm heart and friendly smile and enjoys lingering in the background and taking in the air during festivities.

Background:
 



RP Sample
 


 


Last edited by gotha; 07-16-2019 at 10:30 AM.
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Old 06-29-2019, 04:04 PM
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Hey why the hell not? I had the book lying around for ages just looking at the great art - might as well give it a go. I will be filling in a lot of the blanks as I reread the setting information.

-
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Name: Puppy

Race: Ogre

Character Archetype: Strongman Warrior (technically within the confines of the Berserker Archetype, though he is not going to have the berserker ability)

Burden: Pariah

Boon: Pet (A Jakaar called Friend)

Description: Puppy is a giant of an Ogre standing somewhere over eight feet tall and not much less wide. Her skin is a pasty greyish pink, clammy and taut over her bulging muscles and blocky skull. Her eyes are egg yolk yellow and sunken deep into her head, her nose a squashed snout above her broad mouth filled with teeth the size of penknives. Little black hair grows on her brutish head, most of which she loosely ties together on the top of it. As such her gargantuam size and beastly looks dominate any first impression - the appearance of how parents describe Ogres to their children in scary bedtime stories.

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Rp Sample:
 




Last edited by Phettberg; 07-10-2019 at 11:16 AM.
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Old 07-01-2019, 03:40 PM
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I'm new to Symbaroum, but from what I've read, I love the setting, the world, and the art! I'll continue reading and fill in this application as I go.
WIP
Name:

Race:

Character Archetype:

Description:

Background:

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Old 07-01-2019, 07:21 PM
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So I hadn't even heard of this system/book until this thread. But I've been looking it over and it looks pretty interesting. I like the fact that archetype and race have (almost) no mechanical impact, really open character creation.

Application
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Name: Mincemeat

Race: Ogre

Concept: Sellsword

Description: Barely as tall as a human, Mincemeat is astonishingly small by ogre standards. He has none of the towering build, hulking muscles or lumbering slowness that are associated with the most notable of his kind. From a distance he could almost be mistaken for a human. But his mottled, grey skin and dull orange eyes soon give away his true nature. Numerous scars cover his head and arms from old wounds, badly healed.



Background: Iono was already a man fully grown when the Dark Lords invaded Berndoria. As a soldier, he had witnessed much over two decades of war. He saw defeat. He saw comrades fall. He saw his wife succumb to an evil wasting disease. He saw his son come of age, join him in battle and then die. Eventually, he even lived to see victory and a new homeland. But despite all that, he would never forget the first time he saw an ogre in battle.

He had heard tell of the elder folk, of course, they all had. But except for the occasional goblin, he hadn't actually met one. Truth be told, he half assumed they were stories. But the creature coming at him through the barbarian lines had to be nearly as tall as two men. It did eventually fell to Pansar steel, but the devastation it wrought before it was brought down was breathtaking.

Later, he would learn all that he could of the ogres and where they came from. Not that there was much to be learned, as even the barbarians and explorers had little knowledge. But it was enough for a plan to start forming in his head. Common-born and nearing his fifth decade, he was never going to advance further in the Queen's Guard than he already had. He had no family to return to, so the mercenary life appealed to him. Time to fight for gold instead of a cause. And what better way to make a name for his fledgling company than by recruiting their own ogre?

He had convinced a few of his old comrades to join him in his new endeavor, and under their newly stamped banner, they rode north into the edges of Davokar. It had been several days now, and they had already lost Kiprio to... something. The plan seemed to be falling apart, and Iono was getting desperate. Still, he didn't feel much relief when he finally found his ogre. Looking the approaching figure up and down, he couldn't hide his disappointment.

"Figures, I get the runt of the litter. Prios preserve us, how am I supposed to make use of the Ambria's smallest ogre? The barbarians will make mincemeat out of you!" He shook his head and beckoned the ogre over. "Oi! Over here. You work for us. My name is Boss. We're headed south." Unable to risk waiting around for a better shot, Iono rounded up his company and offered a silent prayer to Prios that he had somehow found a juvenile who would grow to his real size quickly.

However, Mincemeat never showed any signs of growing any larger even after a number of battles. True to the old mercenary's prediction, the barbarians had little difficulty overwhelming the tiny ogre, and he was frequently injured. Iono had wanted a line-breaker, but eventually he realized that Mincemeat wasn't ever going to succeed in such a role. He began training the ogre to fight like a man, and Mincemeat proved adept at the sword, swinging a blade with speed and grace instead of raw power.

Five years ago, Iono and his sellswords were assigned as auxiliary during the fateful and bloody defeat on Karvosti. The old man had survived countless battles, Dark Lords, the undead, and even Davokar. But he finally met his end on that plateau. The company didn't survive the death of their leader, the mercenaries scattered to the winds, and Mincemeat was left alone without employment or purpose. He has found what work he could, but few are willing to hire an ogre, and even fewer want to hire an ogre that isn't. Eventually Mincemeat made his way to Thistle Hold, with the intention of joining Mother Mehira's Agency, he came from the forest, perhaps to the forest he should return.



RP Sample: Mincemeat drew his whetstone slowly, meticulously along one side of his blade. There were, of course, risks to keeping your sword too sharp. You didn't want the edge to chip in combat. But nonetheless, each night he would lay the blade across his lap, inspect it for any damage, oil it, and then run the whetstone along each side. It was part of a nightly ritual that he had been performing for years. One of the many things Iono had taught him. Care for your weapon, and your weapon will care for you.

"We didn't even fight today."

The voice from across the campfire drew the ogre out of his reverie and he looked up at the man who had spoken and slowly nodded his head. "Yes, I know." He and a handful of human guardsman had been escorting a trader bound for Kastor. True to the man's words, the day had been blessedly uneventful. Mincemeat paused briefly, ruminating on the exchange for a moment. He could see the man's face in the crackling glow and could tell that he was getting ready to open his mouth again. With a small sigh to himself, Mincemeat spoke first, hoping to forestall any more interruptions. "It is not only for the sword, but also for myself. The sound helps me settle my mind before sleep." A wordless grunt is all the human offers in response for now. Satisfied the conversation is over, the ogre turned his attentions back to his sword and ran his thumbnail along the edge. Satisfied there are no nicks or deformations, he turned the blade over and reached for the oil once more.

Later, as he lay down on his bedroll, Mincemeat stared up at the stars and thought about the man's unspoken words. The simple act of sharpening a sword could not seem so strange. Instead, it seemed to be that Mincemeat had confounded the man's expectations of what an ogre should be. Truth be told, Mincemeat wasn't exactly sure what he was supposed to be either. The handful of other ogres he had met in his travels had taught him only two truths about his own people. The first was that none of them knew any more about where they had come from or why than he did himself. The second was that each ogre was as different as any two people were from each other. Shaped by life, events and experiences, each ogre had found their own place in life. He reached out with one hand and laid it reassuringly on the sword lying beside him. Maybe one day he would discover another purpose, but for now he was what he had been taught to be. He was a warrior, and that was enough.

 
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Last edited by hafrogman; 07-08-2019 at 11:46 AM.
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Old 07-01-2019, 07:36 PM
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Name: Roha Vunthim

Race: Changeling

Character Archetype: The Revenge Story

Description: Roha is a mid height woman with long silver hair that reaches to her lower back. Her eyes are a piercing blue, that seem to faintly glow. For a changeling, most would say she was quite the looker, but she cares not for her 'attractiveness'. Her wardrobe seems to be made of pieces of armor and clothing from other people, as its all mix matched and nothing fits the other. She may have a single metal boot on one foot but a slip-on on the other, maybe wear shoulder pads but be wearing the top of a wizards outfit. Gotta make due with what you find.

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Old 07-02-2019, 01:42 PM
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Hey all,

I'm working on an interactive map of Symbaroum. It's located here, Symbaroum Interactive Map. For some reason, to pop-ups don't work well in Chrome. You can select them but not get them to close. It works fine in Explorer.

Also, to get the text size to a reading level you like use CTR + or CTR - . Then to get the map size the way you want use the embedded zoom controls. You can point and drag the map around. I've only really entered info for the Duchies and Barabarian Clans etc. I'm still adding things and pictures. I've only set up one pic (Yndarous) at the moment but plan on adding stuff in.
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Last edited by GeneT; 07-02-2019 at 01:44 PM.
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Old 07-02-2019, 02:45 PM
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Are the rules of Boons and Burdens going to be allowed? Not looking to pick up any additional burdens, but since enabling that makes Pariah count as one I could pick up a Pet for Puppy, since that'd be a fun story element. As it is I am not looking to gain any mechanical benefit out of it, so Puppy would not let the dog fight with or for her for fear of seeing it hurt - so if the rule is not allowed it could just be a background element of the character.
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Old 07-02-2019, 03:04 PM
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I think those that have the Advanced Player Guide can use what they find there excepting Races. Having read all three (Free Quick Start, Core, Advanced) I don't think having some players using Boons/Burdens and others not will affect game-play. Or at least nothing that I shouldn't be able to balance even if they are running characters with a similar skill set.

And, if those that use just Quick Start find they really like the game and eventually pick up the Core/Advanced and want to reconfigure their characters, I'm all for that sort of thing. I'd also allow changing abilities out one for one if someone finds that it doesn't fit or realize they may wish to go in a different direction and explore something else. Kind of like the old/or present re-training idea.
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Old 07-03-2019, 10:40 AM
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Father Mikolio, Bearer of the Light

Name: Father Mikolio, Bearer of the Light
Race: Human (Ambrian)
Character Archetype: Theurg

Description:
Underneath the golden mask and red robe, Father Mikolio is a fit man of twenty-six years. He is six feet tall and weighs one hundred eighty-five pounds. Every morning, just before sunrise, Father Mikolio begins his day with a ritual. He starts by shaving his head and face, partly for hygiene and partly for his own comfort beneath the mask. Stripping away the hair is also meant to represent the purifying flame of Prios. If someone with witch sight were watching him shave they would see that smudges of darkness fell away from his shadow each time the razor passed over his head, leaving behind a bright, yellow-orange glow reminiscent of a flame.

When he has finished shaving he applies powder to his scalp to help it remain dry. Then he puts on the full-length, red robe and golden mask that are the trappings of his office. The golden mask accentuates the amber color in his eyes making them shine as if they are lit from within. Then, Father Mikolio, in full regalia, stands before the rising sun and greets the dawn with a prayer of thanks to Prios. He beseeches the Sun God for the strength to persevere with his mission and asks for Prios' blessing to carry his light into Darkest Davokar.


 

Background:
Mikolio took his first breath just after Prios was declared to be the One. It was almost as if he had been waiting, unwilling to enter a world that would not devote itself to the Sun God. His father had been killed while fighting in the war against the Dark Lords, and his mother died in childbirth. He was given to a wet nurse for a time, but she was in no position to take a child to raise. As soon as he was weaned, he was given to the care of a Twilight Friar, one Brother Demeon Soleij, who took Mikolio to be raised at the Twilight Monastery.

The Twilight Monastery was located among the highest peaks of the mountain range known as the Titans, well away from civilization. The Priests, Theurgists, and Friars who called the monastery their home were not the best company, or supervision, for a toddler. But, for better or for worse, the Monastery is where Mikolio spent the first few years of his childhood.

Enough people came and went from the monastery that when things happened in the wider world, word reached the monastery quickly. Not long after Mikolio arrived there, Queen Korinthia was taken captive by the Dark Lords. Her capture drew the Twilight Friars into the war fighting alongside the Church’s Templars, the Knights of the Dying Sun.
By the time Mikolio was 5 years old, the people of Alberetor had begun to expand north into newly discovered land north of the Titans. In the autumn of Mikolio’s fifth year, a barbarian settlement in a place in the new land called Kadizar surrendered to Alberetor’s army. Their surrender provided a foothold for Alberetor’s expansion into the north.
Just a few months later, men and women of that same army stormed the Stronghold of the dark lords and freed Queen Korinthia. The man who rescued the Queen was none other than Convent Brother Demeon Soleij. Brother Demeon literally had to walk through fire to save her and he lost his eyesight while doing so. He had grown very fond of Mikolio by that time. So, when the Queen insisted that her savior remain close to her, Brother Demeon took Mikolio with him and they moved into an apartment in the Capitol.
Over the next seven years, Mikolio served as Brother Demeon’s eyes. He began learning the dogma and rituals of the Church of Prios and soon became an acolyte. Meanwhile, Queen Korinthia worked to establish a home in the north for her people. They moved again during his twelfth year. This time they went North with the Queen to the nation’s new Capitol city, Yndaros. One year later, the Cathedral of Martyrs was inaugurated in Yndaros and, at the age of thirteen, Mikolio was raised to the position of First Acolyte. He was the youngest person ever appointed to a position of authority in the Church.

Mikolio served as First Acolyte for the next five years while he continued his theological education. In addition to attending to his own studies, he managed the acolytes’ work schedules, taught classes to the junior acolytes, and somehow found time to maintain a visible presence in the community for himself by organizing the Church’s outreach efforts in Yndaros. He worked hard during those years and set another record when he was ordained Father Mikolio, theurg of Prios at the age of 18.

While working in Yndaros as the Church’s First Acolyte, Mikolio had listened to people talk about the massive forest, Davokar, that lay north of the city. He heard people speak of the conflicts that occurred there between Elves, Barbarians, and Andrians. He heard of the corruption that people inevitably suffered when they spent too much time beneath its canopy. Rumors said that even the flora and fauna succumbed to corruption in Davokar eventually.

Father Mikolio saw a clear need for someone to carry Prios’ Light and Law to that dark place and felt like it was his responsibility to do so. Because he had worked so hard as First Acolyte at the Cathedral in Yndaros, after his Ordination, the First Father asked him where he would like to serve on his first appointment. Much to the First Father’s surprise, Mikolio said that he wanted to serve at the new church in Thistle Hold. Construction on the town had begun that year and work had already started on the building that was to house the Church. Father Elfeno, the man who was to be the head of that Church, had already taken up residence in the town. At that time, residence and town were generous terms to use to describe the place, but no one doubted that over the next few years, Thistle Hold would become a place of strategic importance for the Ambrian people. Father Mikolio was determined to make Thistle Hold a place of spiritual importance for them, too.

So it was, that Father Mikolio came to Thistle Hold. Two years later, the First Father passed away. The leading body of the church, the Curia, promoted Mikolio's former custodian, Brother Demeon. He has since been known as Jeseebegai, First Father of the Church of Prios. The following year, an agreement was reached with the barbarians allowing the Church of Prios to restore a ruined temple on the Karvosti plateau in honor of the Sun God.

Father Mikolio is twenty-six years old now and still serves the church in Thistle Hold. He has made several trips to Karvosti on church business and has accompanied a few exploration expeditions into Davokar, as well. Although he is by no means as familiar with the forest as the barbarians and goblins who hire themselves out as guides, his healing magic and the blessing of Prios are valuable assets on an expedition into the forest.

When he isn't carrying the light of Prios into Davokar, Father Mikolio often finds himself running interference between Father Elfeno and Father Sarvola, the priest who runs the mission in Thistle Hold. The mission isn't sanctioned by the Church, but Father Mikolio secretly believes that Father Sarvola is taking the right approach in his ministry to the locals. If the Church is going to win over enough believers to return the Dying God to his former glory, it won't be from pandering to the nobles, as his brethren seem predisposed to do. Father Mikolio believes that the only way to attract the number of believers that the Church needs is to win over the masses of poor refugees who are flocking to the north from Alberetor.


 

RP Sample:

 
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Last edited by CharlesM; 07-11-2019 at 05:45 AM.
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  #12  
Old 07-03-2019, 08:32 PM
Berith Berith is online now
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Name: Vosk
Race: Changeling
Archetype: Gladiator (based on duelist)

Description:

Background: It should surprise nobody that many Changelings end up in the Dome, there to scratch out whatever short life they can before being disemboweled, smashed, pierced, or otherwise ground up by the relentless killing machine that satisfies some of Yndaros' bloodlust. Decades ago, Vosk was one of those unfortunates. Unlike the vast majority of those criminals and dregs, Vosk the Slicer managed to survive, even thrive for a time. Unlike almost everyone else, Vosk won his freedom and walked out of the front gate, relatively young and sound of body.

Fast forward seventy or so years (it's so hard to count, especially where life is cheap and short), and few live who remember Vosk the Slicer, which is exactly how he would have it. For the first year or two after winning his freedom, Vosk may have fought more men then he ever did in the Dome. It seemed like every drunk, bully, wife-beater, and idiot (and there are so many of those) felt like he had a chance to take the Slicer, and all paid the price. At first, Vosk simply killed the fools quickly, but then to discourage others he began leaving them alive, but severing the tendons of their hands, leaving them generally unable to fight anyone else (or earn a living) again. That had the desired effect, and the Slicer faded into blessed obscurity.

And Vosk has generally enjoyed the obscurity. One such as him can always earn a modest living by selling his sword, and the one-time Slicer has guarded dozens of caravans, fought in a few mercenary companies, and even been hired muscle once or twice, something he finds very distasteful. Surprising himself tremendously, he's stumbled into something of a third act as a fighting teacher. Not for the noble houses, of course...at least, not for their true-born sons. Appearances and lineages matter too much for them. But a bastard can be taught on a budget, in a discreet location, and merchant families often can't afford to be too picky. Plus, truth be told, Vosk's skills are undiminished and he is an effective, albeit rough, instructor.

Now, he is ensconced relatively comfortably in Thistle Hold. His efforts earn him enough coin to keep a comfortable room in a plain, adequate inn, and nobody has tried to disembowel him in years. But there's a downside, a big one - boredom. Ennui. Not even middle-aged, Vosk can't shake the knowledge that his life has been essentially worthless, spent as either entertainment for others or their tool. If there were a way that one such as himself could make a mark on this world, Vosk (just Vosk, mind you) would jump at it.

RP Sample: Vosk smashed the wooden practice sword across the boy's bare back with an audible thump, sending him sprawling across the stone flags of the unused storage room they used as a practice area. He landed in a heap, and the Changeling waited for him to rise. His breathing was still easy, and Vosk had yet to break a sweat, though the morning was warm. "Get up, boy," his tutor commanded. The boy rose unsteadily, planting his wooden sword on the ground to help lever himself to his feet.

"This is so stupid," the eight year-old cried out petulantly. "I want to learn how to fence, not brawl like any common..." here, the boy's nerve all but left him as he looked at the imposing specimen before him. Vosk was tall and strongly built, especially for a Changeling, all ropy muscle and weathered skin. His body was covered in scars...punctures, slashes, wounds inelegantly stitched together by inexpert hands (some of them by Vosk's own, and you try suturing a rent in your own flesh), and burns from cautery. More years of combat than most human beings even live. But the boy had spirit, if the flesh were yet weak, and he choked back a sob before finishing his sentence. "...murderer!" he shouted, his voice high and spiteful.

The Changeling's hands tightened on the wooden sword, as if to snap it in two, but his face remained impassive. Let them believe you have no emotions, the old man had stressed to him, so long ago. They're more apt to ignore our kind when they see us as less than they. It had taken Vosk a long time to understand that, but the truth of it had been made manifest again and again over the years. He grunted softly at the truth of the boy's charge, and then sat down a couple of feet away from him. Vosk nodded a couple of times, gathering his thoughts, then he spoke.

"Fencing, aye." Truth was, Vosk could easily teach the boy to fence, but... He kept his voice level. "Fencers can be strong fighters," he began. "Especially when fighting one on one, or if you have a lot of room to move around, or if the fight is over a point of honor..." Or some other absurd, nobleman's nonsense, his mind added. "...and the fight ends at first blood." Vosk paused, took a breath. He forced the memory of another child, his skull smashed in, hand still gripping the hilt of a fencing sword, out of his mind's eye.

"But fighting's not usually like that, boy. Fights are short, ugly. They're over before you know it, someone's blood gushing in the street. The point's not to leave a beautiful corpse, boy, and have your friends say admiring words over it. The point's to live, no matter how. There's no honor in it, and it's a brutal business, nothing to be proud of." Vosk spat on the floor before him.

"But it beats the alternative."
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Last edited by Berith; 07-06-2019 at 11:23 PM.
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  #13  
Old 07-04-2019, 05:16 AM
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Quite intrigued by the style of game this promises to be!
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Old 07-04-2019, 08:16 AM
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Hello! I believe Vrak is complete. I will look at the advanced players guide to see about boons and burdens. I hope you like Vrak... he is a fun nasty little fellow. If you have any feedback I am all ears!
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Old 07-04-2019, 11:02 AM
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I'm yet to complete the RP-Sample, but some thoughts on what I have produced so far would also be appreciated.
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