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Tenshi
Supernova
- Joined
- Jan 30, 2010
- Location
- In the Moonwood, chasing unicorns.
Setting Information:
The Horrors.
Before the ice age, they came to our world at the height of a time of magic. They tainted our spells, destroyed our empires, devoured our children, violated our graves, drove us into hiding in deep underground Caers, then burrowed after us relentlessly throughout the centuries of our long hiding. Human fear and suffering is their meat and drink.
Two hundred years ago a miracle happened. As we huddled in the darkest corners of the earth, living in eternal terror of that which might come for us from generation to generation, the world's magic began to dwindle. It was ever so slight, but our arcane tools measured it and the wise knew what it meant.
The Horrors were loosing their grip on the world. The mightiest of them were loosing the strength to manifest and slipping back to their distant hell.
It was time to take back the world.
It was time to fight.
[automerge]1556979139[/automerge]
In a vast, black chamber, light emerged from the pure water poured into a great, gilded stone cauldron. Red and gold scales shimmered in the arcane glow, revealing the head and taloned forearms of a truly massive dragon. It's arms danced over the cauldron, weaving and tugging at varicolored ethereal threads.
Where are you, Thalog?
Images formed and dissolved in the cauldron, some the dragon lingered on for a time. Others he dismissed quickly and moved to the next. Sometimes, he simply peered at an image while lost in his own thoughts.
What are you looking for?
A mixed band of dwarves, orcs, and humans descended a small stone chimney. They carried small, luminous crystals to light their way throuhg a chamber so tight, even the dwarves could ooch down it with back against one wall, feet against the other, should their footholds run out. A single, dragonfly-winged windling girl followed them, carrying a final light.
Ublix'arath'mar still lives in that Caer, Thalog. You're sending those freelancers to their deaths.
A great hose raced across a grassy plane. It's hooves fell like thunder, and the horses behind it were a storm on a clear day. Orcs road atop them, fierce and proud and free, but vicious and vengeful. The man on the lead horse was half again as tall and twice as broadin the shoulder as any of his followers. Though clad in black plate with a full, horned helm, he could only be a troll.
Mars. You style yourself a god or war. You gather armies at Thalog's command and throw them away with the same ease.
A loan dwarf—seemingly an assitant librarian from his garb—stole quietly through a vast library. Masque. You've been searching the Library of Throal for almost a year now.
A buxom redhead in little more than a black leather corset and boots strode with determination through a deep pit where hundreds of orcs—chained and collared—chipped at the bedrock while the sun beat down on their whip scarred back.
Siff. You always did know how to motivate people. What's so important about this quarry that one of your profane skill has been set to overseeing it.
The wyrm gave a frustrated rumble and changed the image once more. Smoke rose from the chimney of a riverboat sliding down the serpent river towards Throal. Tskrang sang a cheerful drinking tune as they polished up the boat. An old, green scaled woman in a black cloak draped with fetishes leaned quietly on her staff as she watched from a doorway to the aft. The centuries have been kind to you, Arindalise.
The ancient tskrang smiles softly and replied in a whisper, “I've done much, Nightrazor. There is much still to do, but that does not fall to me.”
The dragon smiled softly, Enjoy these years, Rindi. You've done much to make the world green again. These youths you're teaching. Are they prepared?
“Not yet, old wyrm. Not quite yet.”
[automerge]1556979514[/automerge]
For those of you not so familiar with Earthdawn, it is a tropical time before Earth's last ice age and the mana levels of the world are just receding from their highest point in the great cycles of magical energy. During the highest point of magic, the Horrors--half formed beings of madness and suffering--ripped their way out of the Astral Plane and rampaged across the face of the fourth world. To survive the unnatural onslaught the people hid in great underground city-fortresses called Caer's for centuries. As magic began to recede, many of the Horrors fled, and the surviving caers opened so that the descendants of the original refugees could recolonize the ravaged world above.
Two hundred years later, it is a time of high adventure. The Namegiver Races of the World have established civilizations once more, but the wild places are still filled with many an unnatural thing twisted by the horrors, not to mention some horrors themselves who have yet to leave.
Dwarves are the cornerstone of civilization amongst the proud, independent peoples of Barisaive. Hard working, and disciplined, strong and resilient, they excel in both craftsmanship and scholarship.
Humans, a race neither numerous nor mighty, have a gift for versatility and adaptability that grants them comfortable niche's with most of Barisaive's people.
If human's fit in, the tiny, winged Windlings are eternal seekers of change and experience.
The ever beauteous elves have such a love of the forest that their queen chose to scourge herself and her court with a thorns growing out of her skin so that the Horror's would leave them be besides to sup upon the ambient pain. Those who did not choose that way have traded their pride for a bittersweet recollection of what they have lost.
Orcs, fierce and driven by that one thing that gets under their skin, are a short lived warrior race whose passionate nature teaches them to grab life by the throat and shake!
Trolls, tall, mighty, and honorable (with a great pair of horns on their heads) raid the skies of Barisaive in crystal-raider ships, but in other parts of the land have other cultures.
'Tskrang, swashbuckling river folk, crested and scaled with long, clever tails, but don't let the lack of hair fool you, they are passionate in making love to the mammalian name givers as to their own people.
The mighty, androgynous obsidimen, the only namegiver people born of a liferock and not a woman, are nonetheless long lived, wise, and extremely powerful.
While we all know what makes a hero, in Earthdawn the heroes we will be playing are capable as well responsible.
What makes us capable? Why magic, of course. While normal people work laboriously to learn mundane skills, we Adepts follow a magical Discipline. The Talents in that Discipline are the key to our power. Some of them are no different from normal skills save that we learn them faster and easier. Others are truly supernatural feats. Some disciplines cast spells, Elementalists, Illusionists, Nethermaners, Shamans, and Wizards. Meanwhile Beastmasters bond with animals and master unarmed combat, Air Sailors and Sky Raiders learn their adventuring trades on the ships that sail the skies, not the seas or rivers. Archers, Cavalrymen, and Warriors form the backbone of the fighting classes, but don’t underestimate the panache filled Swordmasters. Weaponsmiths not only forge weapons, but enchant and wield them. Scouts, Troubadors, and Theives all bring powerful magic to bear in the Discipline they practice.
There are other disciplines, some more esoteric, or even specific to a single name giver race. Tskrang Boatmen, Obsidamen Purifiers, and Windling Wind Masters all bring power to their trades.
[automerge]1556979825[/automerge]
Okay, that was a wall of text! I hope it was a worthwhile read.
if anyone is still with me, i would like to run Earthdawn on this site. I'm flexible about what plot. The one I gave a teaser for above--one version of The Veil of Prometheus--involves a young woman--an elementalist and perhaps more--who is the reincarnation of a great heroine of the second world and thus might inherit special artifacts and responsibility from her. That plot, however, is not for a solo game. The maidens friends and companions share an equal part in the story.
As for erotic content, i'm flexible. while I often favor maidens being molested when defeated by their foes--and generally favor maidens--I'd like to hear what kinds of erotica the interested players would like to see.
If you're not familiar with Eartdawn (the third edition) I'm more than happy to help you with the rules and with character creation.
The Horrors.
Before the ice age, they came to our world at the height of a time of magic. They tainted our spells, destroyed our empires, devoured our children, violated our graves, drove us into hiding in deep underground Caers, then burrowed after us relentlessly throughout the centuries of our long hiding. Human fear and suffering is their meat and drink.
Two hundred years ago a miracle happened. As we huddled in the darkest corners of the earth, living in eternal terror of that which might come for us from generation to generation, the world's magic began to dwindle. It was ever so slight, but our arcane tools measured it and the wise knew what it meant.
The Horrors were loosing their grip on the world. The mightiest of them were loosing the strength to manifest and slipping back to their distant hell.
It was time to take back the world.
It was time to fight.
[automerge]1556979139[/automerge]
In a vast, black chamber, light emerged from the pure water poured into a great, gilded stone cauldron. Red and gold scales shimmered in the arcane glow, revealing the head and taloned forearms of a truly massive dragon. It's arms danced over the cauldron, weaving and tugging at varicolored ethereal threads.
Where are you, Thalog?
Images formed and dissolved in the cauldron, some the dragon lingered on for a time. Others he dismissed quickly and moved to the next. Sometimes, he simply peered at an image while lost in his own thoughts.
What are you looking for?
A mixed band of dwarves, orcs, and humans descended a small stone chimney. They carried small, luminous crystals to light their way throuhg a chamber so tight, even the dwarves could ooch down it with back against one wall, feet against the other, should their footholds run out. A single, dragonfly-winged windling girl followed them, carrying a final light.
Ublix'arath'mar still lives in that Caer, Thalog. You're sending those freelancers to their deaths.
A great hose raced across a grassy plane. It's hooves fell like thunder, and the horses behind it were a storm on a clear day. Orcs road atop them, fierce and proud and free, but vicious and vengeful. The man on the lead horse was half again as tall and twice as broadin the shoulder as any of his followers. Though clad in black plate with a full, horned helm, he could only be a troll.
Mars. You style yourself a god or war. You gather armies at Thalog's command and throw them away with the same ease.
A loan dwarf—seemingly an assitant librarian from his garb—stole quietly through a vast library. Masque. You've been searching the Library of Throal for almost a year now.
A buxom redhead in little more than a black leather corset and boots strode with determination through a deep pit where hundreds of orcs—chained and collared—chipped at the bedrock while the sun beat down on their whip scarred back.
Siff. You always did know how to motivate people. What's so important about this quarry that one of your profane skill has been set to overseeing it.
The wyrm gave a frustrated rumble and changed the image once more. Smoke rose from the chimney of a riverboat sliding down the serpent river towards Throal. Tskrang sang a cheerful drinking tune as they polished up the boat. An old, green scaled woman in a black cloak draped with fetishes leaned quietly on her staff as she watched from a doorway to the aft. The centuries have been kind to you, Arindalise.
The ancient tskrang smiles softly and replied in a whisper, “I've done much, Nightrazor. There is much still to do, but that does not fall to me.”
The dragon smiled softly, Enjoy these years, Rindi. You've done much to make the world green again. These youths you're teaching. Are they prepared?
“Not yet, old wyrm. Not quite yet.”
[automerge]1556979514[/automerge]
* * *
For those of you not so familiar with Earthdawn, it is a tropical time before Earth's last ice age and the mana levels of the world are just receding from their highest point in the great cycles of magical energy. During the highest point of magic, the Horrors--half formed beings of madness and suffering--ripped their way out of the Astral Plane and rampaged across the face of the fourth world. To survive the unnatural onslaught the people hid in great underground city-fortresses called Caer's for centuries. As magic began to recede, many of the Horrors fled, and the surviving caers opened so that the descendants of the original refugees could recolonize the ravaged world above.
Two hundred years later, it is a time of high adventure. The Namegiver Races of the World have established civilizations once more, but the wild places are still filled with many an unnatural thing twisted by the horrors, not to mention some horrors themselves who have yet to leave.
* * *
Dwarves are the cornerstone of civilization amongst the proud, independent peoples of Barisaive. Hard working, and disciplined, strong and resilient, they excel in both craftsmanship and scholarship.
Humans, a race neither numerous nor mighty, have a gift for versatility and adaptability that grants them comfortable niche's with most of Barisaive's people.
If human's fit in, the tiny, winged Windlings are eternal seekers of change and experience.
The ever beauteous elves have such a love of the forest that their queen chose to scourge herself and her court with a thorns growing out of her skin so that the Horror's would leave them be besides to sup upon the ambient pain. Those who did not choose that way have traded their pride for a bittersweet recollection of what they have lost.
Orcs, fierce and driven by that one thing that gets under their skin, are a short lived warrior race whose passionate nature teaches them to grab life by the throat and shake!
Trolls, tall, mighty, and honorable (with a great pair of horns on their heads) raid the skies of Barisaive in crystal-raider ships, but in other parts of the land have other cultures.
'Tskrang, swashbuckling river folk, crested and scaled with long, clever tails, but don't let the lack of hair fool you, they are passionate in making love to the mammalian name givers as to their own people.
The mighty, androgynous obsidimen, the only namegiver people born of a liferock and not a woman, are nonetheless long lived, wise, and extremely powerful.
* * *
While we all know what makes a hero, in Earthdawn the heroes we will be playing are capable as well responsible.
What makes us capable? Why magic, of course. While normal people work laboriously to learn mundane skills, we Adepts follow a magical Discipline. The Talents in that Discipline are the key to our power. Some of them are no different from normal skills save that we learn them faster and easier. Others are truly supernatural feats. Some disciplines cast spells, Elementalists, Illusionists, Nethermaners, Shamans, and Wizards. Meanwhile Beastmasters bond with animals and master unarmed combat, Air Sailors and Sky Raiders learn their adventuring trades on the ships that sail the skies, not the seas or rivers. Archers, Cavalrymen, and Warriors form the backbone of the fighting classes, but don’t underestimate the panache filled Swordmasters. Weaponsmiths not only forge weapons, but enchant and wield them. Scouts, Troubadors, and Theives all bring powerful magic to bear in the Discipline they practice.
There are other disciplines, some more esoteric, or even specific to a single name giver race. Tskrang Boatmen, Obsidamen Purifiers, and Windling Wind Masters all bring power to their trades.
[automerge]1556979825[/automerge]
Okay, that was a wall of text! I hope it was a worthwhile read.
if anyone is still with me, i would like to run Earthdawn on this site. I'm flexible about what plot. The one I gave a teaser for above--one version of The Veil of Prometheus--involves a young woman--an elementalist and perhaps more--who is the reincarnation of a great heroine of the second world and thus might inherit special artifacts and responsibility from her. That plot, however, is not for a solo game. The maidens friends and companions share an equal part in the story.
As for erotic content, i'm flexible. while I often favor maidens being molested when defeated by their foes--and generally favor maidens--I'd like to hear what kinds of erotica the interested players would like to see.
If you're not familiar with Eartdawn (the third edition) I'm more than happy to help you with the rules and with character creation.
