[Other] Conan: Tales of Hyboria

[Blackthorne1024]

Game Name Conan: Tales of Hyboria

Game System Other Roleplaying Games

Theme Exploration, Survival

Flavour Swords and Sorcery

Plot Summary “Conan: Adventures in an Age Undreamed Of takes you into the world of Conan the Barbarian, where heroes raise blood-spattered swords against dire sorcery, exotic lands beckon to the daring, danger and treasure lurks in forgotten ruins, and where loathsome creatures haunt the spaces beneath the earth… as well as in the throne-rooms of mighty kingdoms! Seek your fortune in forbidden tombs or upon blood-soaked battlefields. Sail upon untamed seas to lands where no human in living memory has walked. Fight for the fate of civilization — or barbarism — on a savage frontier." Devils Under Green Stars To the far south, past Stygia lies Kush, Darfar, and Keshan. Further south yet lies the unknown. Jungles, the interior of which have been untouched for centuries. Rivers and lakes teeming with large, ancient life just looking for a new feast. Sweltering heat, diseases and many more unknown deadly dangers exist here. And yet there is also legend of wealth beyond imagining. It is here you have come, looking for the legendary cities sparkling in the moonlight filtered through the jungle canopy. Watery surfaces nearby reflecting the jewel-encrusted walls like stars in the sky. You left Darfar by boat seeking wealth and glory in the unknown. But will you find that, or will you find nothing but your deaths? Using Modiphius’ Conan 2d20 system, we will explore the breadth and depths of the Hyborian Setting. I'll stick with published adventures, at least to start (beginning with The Red Pit). The game will be very combat heavy, but with some exploration and chances for social encounters as well. Posting rate 1-3x/week. If we can average that, I think the game will succeed. Character Creation: Standard character creation rules, as per the Core Rulebook. If you don't have the book, the Player's Guide has all the character creation info for $7. You can also use the online generator here: https://conan.modiphiusapps.hostinguk.org There are also some free products available on DriveThruRPG with pregens and the basic rules. Some other notes: - I have all the material released so far, so all options are available. - I reserve the right to ‘retcon’ material as we go if something just doesn’t seem to be working the way we thought it might. - Combat is a fact of life in Hyboria, but even Combat-oriented characters should be able to do things outside of that arena. - No PvP. Savage and callous is one thing, but outright evil characters are off-limits. Houserules: - If you have a character concept that isn't well supported by the rules (such as an unarmed fighter), I'm open to working out houserules for it. - We won't be dealing with hit locations or piecemeal armor. - Since PbP is a slow format, I intend to be extra generous with XP. Applications: Name: Homeland: Physical Description (picture optional): Combat Role: Non-Combat Role: Background: A paragraph or two, not a novel. The first adventure will have you as recent slaves in The Red Pit. Connections with other PCs are welcome. Goals/Subplots: One or two goals you might have in mind for the character, and/or a subplot idea specific for you. RP Sample: Give me a short scene, including dialogue, in which your character demonstrates one of their strengths. Deadline: November 22nd

Player	Character	Roles	Status
Phettberg	Meshebu	Sorcery, Face	Complete
hafrogman	Amat-Sur	Scout, Thief	Complete
RainyDayNinja	Valius	Leader, Soldier	Complete
Keylan	-	-	Interest
Chubbyninja29	Robin Bowman	Archer, Forager	Complete
Godbob	Freja Foxcoat	Treasure Hunter, Lore	Complete

[Phettberg]

I'll drop an application like I said I would. Though I feel like I should comment on a thing or two as well before that though, considering they are issues that were not discussed in the interest check:

The post rate is a bit high for me, especially since it is 3 or more. Three a week would already be quite a lost honestly, at least in my personal experience. I have a lot of games going on, so I can't promise that. I'd post as often as I can.

The other thing is I never think about combat roles much when making characters, let alone any sort of role. I just try to make a character that within themselves makes sense - and having used the random generation method I just tried to weave a story around the results, so it's in no way optimised or geared towards anything specific (beyond being a sorcerer). Apart from wielding the frightful powers of the beyond my character is on the meek side. In any case I don't know what to really put in these fields.

I've no issues with combat potentially being around every corner, but I prefer to have a consistent character that croaks after five minutes than something made to fit a mechanical mould. If that's not something you'd want to work with then that is fine also.

Application Sheet Name: Meshebu Homeland: Shem Physical Description:   Meshebu has much Stygian Blood coursing through his veins, and it shows. His large hooked nose and deeply set dark brown eyes make that much very clear. His eyes are piercing, haunted and radiate a certain dignity - or arrogance - but that is were the regality of his appearance ends. His skin is a sickly colour for a desert dweller, originally having been a dark chestnut but now having gained a sickly purple note from malnutrition and breathing in toxic fumes all day. The rest of his body is not much better off. Meshebu may be above average height technically, but his spine is slightly bent as a reminder of his childhoods squalor reducing the height of his frame. He covers up his thin bony body with robes as best as he can, but nobody would mistake him for an athletic man. The lines on his face run deep also, making him look older than his years, as do the curled and oiled black hairs of his beard, one of the only things about his physical form that he is proud of. Regardless of it all, when he smiles a toothy smile it all is wiped away in an instance. There is a personal magnetism that he can radiate when he feels the need to, roles to slip into, going from dignified to jocular to pity inducing in a few moments. Roles: Sorcerer commuting with the Spirits of the Dead and of the Winds, Sage and Sneaky Fast-Talker. I feel like Magic is too volatile to consistently conjure up storms in combat, but he also has some alchemical concotions to throw at enemies (as in Burning Liquids, which seemed more versatile). Background:   Meshebu was born to parents he never knew, abandoned in the worst part of Akbitana. The beggars and outcasts took him in, so much sorrow they had on the tiny crying baby lying in the gutters of the city of the finest steel the world knows. His earliest years were possibly the most tranquil, when he was just a toddler growing up between cripples, panhandlers and career criminals of the worst kind - the unsuccessful ones. As a small boy he was well liked, a happy child with a golden tongue and a cheeky attitude. Yet in his early teens the troubles began for him. More precisely, the voices started. They whispered secrets to him, they whispered lies. They chattered on, so much he could not hide it for long. Shems lowest started to eye him warily, distrust him, call him mad. And in fact his presence seemed to draw the Ire of the Spirit world unto the shanty town that they all shared at the edge of town. There came a particularly bad night that marked the end for this dwelling of outcasts, and Meshebu felt personally responsible: While he was having particularly vivid and horrifying nightmares the beggars had their spirits seemingly poisoned and started to violently squabble amongst each other, the whole neighborhood erupting into violence. The guards, those that rarely did anything for the poorest apart from driving them away, had to intervene and dispersed the beggars and cripples into the four winds. It may have been coincidence, and the inhabitants later resettled in some other gutter on the other end of town, but Meshebu fled and started to wander, old enough to beg himself or steal what he needed. The ghosts travelled with him and continued their torment, and he longed for the times he had been happy in the slums on the edge of Akbitana. (Outcast Story: Food and Rough Liquor) He was marked by them in a way those with power themselves could see. While he thought the voices a curse, there was one that recognised them to be a blessing on the boy. A sorcerer stumbled upon him and saw some utility in Meshebu. He realised he was being used by the old spellweaver, but he gained enough to delve deep into the apprenticeship in the dark arts. His master taught him how to quiet the voices of spirits, a power Meshebu longed for so much that He asked himself no moral questions about the price he paid for it. Having been a beggar he was acutely aware that what is freely given was rarely worth much. In time the relationship between apprentice and master grew. With his affinity for spirits Meshebu learned how to talk to the wind and sky, teasing the ghosts of nature to lure rain or storms. His master was pleased, and eventually started to send him forth to procure knowledge or ingredients for alchemy or darker arts every now and then. Even while it gave him more freedom it was ironically also the way how he lost it. Goals/Subplots: Prestige, Knowledge, Power in that order. Until I know what the first Adventure is like I am not sure I can supply a super creative subplot, but one of the main things the character will want to do is to emancipate himself and break free of his master to become a Sorcerer in his own right. This is in addition to trying to improve his social standing, although the two things are a little at odds outside of places like Stygia I would say. Rp Sample:   "Ya need directions or something," the Shopkeeper asked Meshebu. He had been eyeing him warily as he had stepped closer to gawk at the goods stacked on the outdoor stall, faking a concentrated and worried look on his face. Meshebu had put on his most colourful robes, but he knew that some people had the ability to see right through that to unmask him as an outcast amongst men. So far not according to plan, but he might use it to his own advantage yet. Instead of dignity he would have to go for pity then. "Master I am sorry. I would not have dared to approach your fine stall usually." He bent his head and talked to his own feet, pretending to be shamed by the scrutiny and judgement of the merchant. "I am but a humble scholar. Poor as can be, not worthy of your presence. I study the gods and history." Lifting up his hand he moved it over an inconspicuous bell made out of bronze, adorned with swirling patterns that when looked at in the right way seemed to form a monstrous face. To most people it would have seemed like a normal decorative piece of metalwork, but Meshebu knew that it was part of an artifact larger and more sinister. The exact details he was not aware of, having been sent to fetch it by his master, but when combined it was supposed to have the power to call on things beyond the veil of mortal senses. Meshebus idea to get it for cheap was simple: More or less tell the truth. "I have seen this bell in tomes ancient and dreadful for their contents. It is cursed Master." His visage was a mask of fear and apprehension. Meshebu could see that it was starting to work on the Merchant, who did not yet seemed convinced, but scowled at him in mild annoyance. The hand hidden underneath the stall went inside a pocket of his robes to grab a sharp pin. The metal bit into his palm, the energies of blood released as Meshebu teased the spirits of the wind forward. Blood was one part, the other he was preparing right now. Slowly he edged the other hand towards the bell bit by bit. "It draws bad luck, misfortune, famine." A small light grey cloud gathered in the sky above them. Meshebu gingerly lifted the bell my its handle under the watchful eyes of the Merchant. "Storms." He rang the bell, once. A crackling of thunder could be heard from the sky, prompting the Merchant to raise his head and gaze upon the lone raincloud above them with his mouth open. Meshebu relaxed. He was not about to entice the spirits more, it was too dangerous. Instead he smiled a toothy grin at the now unsettled Merchant. "I could take it off your hands Master." The Trader was willing to take the handful of coins Meshebu thrust towards him. It was next to nothing for this artefact. Yet the Bell was his now and the master would certainly be pleased.

[Blackthorne1024]

Originally Posted by Phettberg

I'll drop an application like I said I would. Though I feel like I should comment on a thing or two as well before that though, considering they are issues that were not discussed in the interest check:

The post rate is a bit high for me, especially since it is 3 or more. Three a week would already be quite a lost honestly, at least in my personal experience. I have a lot of games going on, so I can't promise that. I'd post as often as I can.

The other thing is I never think about combat roles much when making characters, let alone any sort of role. I just try to make a character that within themselves makes sense - and having used the random generation method I just tried to weave a story around the results, so it's in no way optimised or geared towards anything specific (beyond being a sorcerer). Apart from wielding the frightful powers of the beyond my character is on the meek side. In any case I don't know what to really put in these fields.

I've no issues with combat potentially being around every corner, but I prefer to have a consistent character that croaks after five minutes than something made to fit a mechanical mould. If that's not something you'd want to work with then that is fine also.

I updated the posting rate. I know folks have a lot going on, and I am fine with a post a week. However, I do think the more activity the longer the game will last.

I am definitely more interested in concept and background than crunch and optimization so you're good.

[hafrogman]

Application Name: Amet-Sur Homeland: Stygia Physical Description: Dark haired and dark-eyed with a dusky complexion that could mark him of any one of a number of bloodlines, or a mongrel mix of many, Amet-Sur's appearance does not immediately denote his Stygian origin. He is slightly shorter than most men, with a slender but athletic build. He regularly shaves his head, more in keeping with his priestly pretenses. Combat Role: Stabby Non-Combat Role: Scout, Minor Thief Background: Growing up on the streets of a Stygian is usually a recipe for a short and painful life. Still, the deaths and disappearances that plague that dark land provide an endless supply of orphans to feed the night's hungers. Amet-Sur manged to survive long enough to learn how to steal, but not quite long enough to learn who not to steal from. Crossing a Stygian priest is another recipe for a short and painful life, unless that priest is secretly a worshiper of Ibis. Caught stealing by a kindly old priest, Amet-Sur was taken in and raised as an acolyte and apprentice to the man. He never picked up the fervor of a true believer, but he wrapped himself in the trappings of priesthood for survival. From under the nose of the Setite priests, Master Ptyr and his flock tended to the needs of the people, traveling the Stygian deserts and providing succor where needed. Eventually however, the forbidden worship of Ibis drew the attention of a local lordling who tried to extort a tithe from the old priest in exchange for overlooking his blasphemy. Master Ptyr nobly refused and nobly died, choking on his own blood. Amet-Sur was the only member of the flock to survive, falling back on his old instincts to escape. He later returned to bury his mentor and fellow priests. He hadn't shared the old man's faith or noble sentiments, but he still mourned his death and promised vengeance. Killing a Stygian noble is yet another recipe for a short and painful life, unless you are caught by that noble's brother who is pleased by his promotion to heir. Amet-Sur stayed there for some time, maintaining his false life as a priest and working for his new patron. Still driven by the same curiosity that led him to try and steal from a Stygian priest, he eventually left those lands to travel north, seeking out new opportunities. New opportunities were found, new religions discovered, new priesthoods falsified. It turns out that when you are caught impersonating a priest in the North, they do not sacrifice you to their god. They sell you into slavery, a recipe for a long and painful life. These crazy northerners. Goals: To tread the jeweled thrones of the Earth under his sandaled feet. To see the high brought low and the low raised up. Amet-sur has little use for the wealthy and the powerful. To find a family again. Since his master was killed, he's been traveling alone. It's difficult to trust anyone, but he wants people to watch his back. Random Rolls: Stygia - Socially Adept - Brave or Foolhardy - Priesthood - A Place in Need of Guidance - Nomad - Curious - Elder Mentor - Gained the Favor of a Local Noble RP Sample Dark eyes peered out from under his hood as Amet-sur regarded the fat priest at the temple entrance. No vows of poverty here. He grinned obsequiously at the man, bowing deeply. "Ah, greetings brother. I am but a humble pilgrim, seeking shelter for the evening." The priest frowned, looking at Amet-sur's rather threadbare robes and was clearly preparing to turn him away when he held up a basket filled with game hens and two bottles of wine. "I have of course, brought a fitting sacr... offering. For the glory of Mitra." The priest's expression changed quickly as he eyed the basket. Coins were the best offering of course, but you couldn't eat them. "For the glory of Mitra." he echoed, stepping aside and unwittingly letting the serpent into the proverbial hen-house. Amet-sur stepped inside slowly, looking around the inside of the temple. There was not as much gold on display as he had hoped. These northerners with their strange gods. But the priest's waistline at least indicated that offerings to Mitra were plentiful. There had to be something here worth stealing. Two bottles of wine, one `fortified` with a clear but potent liquor would ensure that the priest would be heavy sleeper this night. Smiling to himself, Amet-sur allowed himself to be led to an austere chamber where he would spend his evening. Then night would fall, and the real fun would begin.

[Kaiya]

Will the PCs be able to reclaim their original equipment after they escape slavery?

[RainyDayNinja]

A lot of the details are copied from my advertisement last year. Are you still planning on starting with The Pit of Kutallu? Will you be using the other published adventures, or a homebrew campaign?

[RainyDayNinja]

Application Name: Valius Homeland: Aquilonia Physical Description: Grizzled and weather-beaten, Valius has the scars to show for his rough life. The wrinkles on his face show his age, even if his sturdy frame does not. He carries himself with a noble bearing that impresses on all who see him. Combat Role: Melee/Mental Damage Non-Combat Role: Face Background: Born to minor noble parents, Valius was destined for leadership, even if he had not deserved it on merit. Though his father pushed him toward politics, he felt drawn to the cameraderie of the army, and the chance to flex his skill at arms in addition to his penchant for leadership. He rose quickly through the ranks, becoming a captain of the city guard in Shamar. Eventually, however, his naivety caught up with him. His position was much sought-after, and eventually other, more connected men pushed him out, despite their incompetence. Finding himself dispossessed of his station, Valius turned to seeking fortune in other lands. At such a late age, he is not quite as quick and strong as he once was, but his force of presence can still inspire fear in the hearts of younger men. RP Sample: Wind and rain lashed at the men of Valius' company as they fought the Pictish barbarians upon the open plain. He could see his men flagging with fatigue as another wave of enemy combatants converged on their position. Vacant stares of slain friends and foes, though balanced severely toward the latter, littered the ground at their feet. "Steel yourselves for another round, boys!" he called out. "Let your enemies block the chill of the wind, and soak in their blood to keep warm if you get to shivering!" He heard chuckles passing through the rank, and the men's posture shifted to a more confident stance. They would fight well tonight, for sure, though they were equally as sure to lose a few more in the fray. The savage warriors reached them, and Valius struck out with his sword as they approached, slashing one across the chest and sending him tumbling to the ground. Another swung his axe, and Valius deflected it with his shield, then cut him across the leg for his troubles. As the enemy ranks thinned, his own men pressed forward, crushing the fallen warriors beneath their boots. The few remaining barbarians turned and fled, half of them falling to arrows in their backs.

[Blackthorne1024]

Originally Posted by Kaiya

Will the PCs be able to reclaim their original equipment after they escape slavery?

Originally Posted by RainyDayNinja

A lot of the details are copied from my advertisement last year. Are you still planning on starting with The Pit of Kutallu? Will you be using the other published adventures, or a homebrew campaign?

Whoops! Sorry about that. I haven't decided on what I'm going to begin with, but it will most likely be a published adventure. From there, I'll probably mix in some homebrew with published. With lot of the homebrew, I'll work with the players for some kind of subplot they might like to see (and will try to work some in with the existing adventures as well).

[Kaiya]

I think you might have unwittingly left out the answer to my question.

[Blackthorne1024]

Originally Posted by Kaiya

I think you might have unwittingly left out the answer to my question.

Originally Posted by Kaiya

Will the PCs be able to reclaim their original equipment after they escape slavery?

Sorry about that!

If I go with an adventure where they begin as slaves, then there will be an opportunity to retrieve beginning equipment, yes.

[Phettberg]

I will be writing my rp sample in the next few days, probably about my sorcery story.

My sheet is 90% done as well - I am just missing the extra equipment (which I will just roll for below so I don't have to think about it). Again there will be no editing this post so nobody can suspect foul play.

 

Dice Personal Belongings and Garnment:

1d20	18
1d20	6

Dice Weapon and Provenance:

1d20	18
1d20	5

The other thing I've not set is the languages for my character. Obviously it'd be good if there was a shared language for all of us. Do we know what approximate part of the world we will start our adventure in?

Personally I would have picked Stygian anyway, so there will be that overlap already. Second most important seems Kothic, but considering Shemitic is apparently close enough to Kothic as per the book I was thinking about adding a middle kindgom language of a country that is closeby-ish, probably Ophirean. Yet if we will be starting somewhere completely different (So no Stygia, Zhemrian countries or middle kingdom) it might be best if we each picked the language of that place.

[Phettberg]

Sorry for the double post: Just wanted to say I have included my sheet into my application and have also written a RP Sample.

The roleplaying sample is a somewhat less glamorous version of what the characters story would have entailed - tricking somebody out of a great treasure.

[keylan]

I'm very interested but on a fire assignment ,hope to have enough internet to post a character before the deadline.

[chubbyninja29]

posting interest!!

Application Name:Robin Bowman Homeland: Hyboria {Bossonia} Physical Description: Robin is a mildly stout fellow with no hair on his head, save for a rather scruffy peppered beard. His standard attire is the uniform of the king's garrison.   Combat Role: Mid-Long Distance Archer Non-Combat Role: Forager/Healer Background:   Robin Bowman was born to farming parents and like most Hyborians, took to farming quite well. When Robin came of age, roughly fourteen, he was conscripted into his lords armed forces and spent most of his days training, mucking out stalls, and helping the clergy tend to the wounded. On Robin's twentieth year of conscription, the unthinkable happened. Robin's lord fell ill to poison, and a neighboring king's army showed on the door step. A planned attack, inside and out. The archers mounted the walls and drew back broken strings. Swords fell apart when drew. Wild magic was a foot. With nary a drop of blood spilled the kingdom was taken. Many of the men fled and swore revenge, others fell to their knees and accepted their new lord. Robin was among the former. Robin fled all he had known, all he had cared about. Robin swore he would return with an army and claim revenge for the death of his lord. He was branded an outlaw along with his fellow deserters. RP Sample: The pub was a roar with laughter and rabble rousing. Drink clattered, chairs toppled their patrons to the floor, all amidst an occasional up tick of shouts crying "Nailed it!" At the center of the ruckus was a crowd of people standing around an archer and a target board with a random assortment of items pegged to it by arrows. "All right, who's next?"Robin said resting the bow on his shoulders, " Who else has something I can't shoot?" A rather drunk man from the crowd stumbled up to Robin with a silver coin in one hand and a candle in his other. "I bet you can't put this candle out without hitting it," The drunkard said between stutters and hiccups as he stumbled to the target. The drunkard placed the candle on it's top and turn back to face Robin with a look of accomplishment and nausea playing across his face. As he wagered Robin sipped his own drink and sized up the shot. Robin looked at the coin he had already won and thought he might up the stakes a bit. "Right..." Robin said walking to a near by table. Robin plucked the candle from it's holder and set it six inches from the drunk's candle. "Double or nothin'." Robin said with his hand out to the drunk. Both with serious, all be it somewhat distant, looks in their eyes they shook hands. Robin lined up his target as the crowd's rabble rousing began to drop to a murmur of anticipation. The arrow was drawn back, Robin sighted down it's length, and loosed. The arrow left the bow violently, wobbling widely off it's flight path turning in mid air. The arrow sailed past the padded target sideways and hit the ground with a rattle. Onlookers and the better alike cried out in a chorus of whistles and cheers! Robin shakily stumbled to the target. He leaned onto the target with his right elbow and put a hand up to his ear. From all sides of the bar, the patrons shouted, "Nailed it!" Goals: ºTo put an end to the tyranny of Prince Jhon, the usurper of the Kingdom of Huntingdon, and return his land to their rightful ruling family of his king, King Richard. ºTo take the knowledge and experience gained in the king's service, and impart his gains unto the next generation, be it the next generation of his kingdom's fighters or his own kin.

[Blackthorne1024]

I know my anticipation is building. I do have a couple of question for everyone.

1) Would anyone have an objection to beginning as escaping slaves? In this case, some, but not all gear from character creation might be reclaimable in the escape...
2) What would one or two goals be that you would like to see for your character?