Session Zero
Be sure to read and follow the guidelines for our forums.
As far as character mechanics go, you wanted us to roll our stats, will that be straight 4d6, 4d6 with aces rerolled, or 3d6?
You might want to create a new thread (or sub-forum) just for setting details, I'm planning on the Gnome community to be nothing outlandish for Svirfneblin: Hides in the underdark, bent on acquiring knowledge (and precious stones). You mentioned there is far less danger compared to Faerun underdark, which leads to more devotion to study. Warriors are still required, which is what my character is, at least for their "day job", they are just as knowledge-hungry with their spare time. Depending on the geography, I think it would make sense for the Gnomes to be aware of humans, ultimately deciding to keep to themselves. (of course I am open to changing this). I am skimming details or haven't considered some, please ask any questions.
How will you handle languages? Every race can speak common RAW, which I'm assuming is the language of humans as well, will you be playing that straight or have a language barrier in play?
Regarding what I'm looking forward to: probably just how things will turn out, big fan of seeing a story/worldbuilding come together. I do wonder in particular how our characters will first meet.
This has been asked before, but to what extent are humans aware of other races, and the fantastical races to each other?
Edit: Hot rolls.
Rolls
Stats - (4d6)
(4152) = 12
Stats - (4d6)
(3636) = 18
Stats - (4d6)
(6541) = 16
Stats - (4d6)
(3231) = 9
Stats - (4d6)
(3265) = 16
Stats - (4d6)
(6364) = 19
So thats 8,8,10,12,15,17. I think I can work with that!
Rolls
Stats - (4d6, 4d6, 4d6, 4d6, 4d6, 4d6)
4d6 : (1512) = 9
4d6 : (3263) = 14
4d6 : (1231) = 7
4d6 : (3616) = 16
4d6 : (2665) = 19
4d6 : (3512) = 11
Wynn came from a family group of Druids and Rangers who protected their lands from the mages of a nearby High-Elven city. One day, one of their scouts came into the camp reporting that the High-elves were attempting to reach out to the mortal realm. It was decided that if they contacted the Humans, they may enlist them as reinforcements in defeating the other Elves. Calling on their abilities and allies in the Wilds, Wynn and his family assaulted the city in the dead of night. Their plan was to reach the enemy portal and close it, and if the opportunity presented itself, one of them would go through to utilize the High Elves's plan against them.
The battle was long and hard, but they reached the portal. Wynn and his brothers fought against the Elven ambassadors, slaying all but one who managed to slip through at the last second with Wynn on his heels. Wynn and the ambassador were whipped through the cosmos, and when he awoke, he was lying in a field with sore ribs and a dead elf beneath him. He buried his enemy and set off to the nearest Human settlement, hoping to get aid for the war that must be being waged back home.
(An accomplished Druid in his home plane, Wynn discovers that his powers a greatly diminished in the mortal realm. Here, he has to exert much more energy to perform even the simplest of Druidic magic.)
I think I'll stick with standard array.
Rolls
Stat 1 - (4d6)
(4546) = 19
Stat 2 - (4d6)
(1331) = 8
Stat 3 - (4d6)
(2522) = 11
Stat 4 - (4d6)
(5543) = 17
Stat 5 - (4d6)
(2125) = 10
Stat 6 - (4d6)
(4423) = 13
Rolls
Stats - (4d6)
(6326) = 17
4d6
(6431) = 14
4d6
(1651) = 13
4d6
(3362) = 14
4d6
(4234) = 13
4d6
(1355) = 14
So 15, 15, 15, 11, 10, 5.
Ouch on the 5, this character's clearly had some kind of deformity, mishap or disease that's seriously affected them. The rest of their stats are nice and strong, so I can work with that. :)
Rolls
Stats - (4d6, 4d6, 4d6, 4d6, 4d6, 4d6)
4d6 : (5463) = 18
4d6 : (2121) = 6
4d6 : (2245) = 13
4d6 : (4536) = 18
4d6 : (6245) = 17
4d6 : (5132) = 11
Eventually she recovered from her illness well enough to rejoin the wider world. Her quest for further knowledge led her to Esterwyn University, where she studied history and, at her parents' urging, law. She wrote her Master's thesis on the influences of occultism and magical thinking in common law.
One day, she was working on a particularly difficult translation of an ancient text with an unusual idiolect, and grew increasingly frustrated. On a whim, and mainly to relieve her tension and refocus her mind, she performed a ritual recalled from one of her childhood books, and felt a strange tingling power flow through her. On completing the ritual, she found she was able to read the text as easily as if it was written in her own words. This was a total paradigm shift in her entire outlook - magic was undeniably real.
Immediately, she began searching for other magical evidence: strange events reported in newspapers and magazines, investigations of purported miracles in religious journals, and even the tavern stories of sailors visiting the city. Everything she found she kept, catalogued and cross-referenced in meticulous detail. She practiced her magical rituals diligently, and gradually put together a book of everything she had mastered.
Hooks-wise, she'll be all over any news of a magical nature, including the discovery of any non-human people. She desperately wants to be a part of whatever is going on. :)
Rolls
4d6
(4521) = 12
4d6
(4641) = 15
4d6
(5443) = 16
4d6
(3563) = 17
4d6
(3163) = 13
4d6
(6445) = 19
That was almost two years ago, and Elendin's talent has further blossomed under Master Leonin's tutelage. In fact, it was widely considered a given that she would be living out the rest of her days as a visionary sculptor and not toiling back home in Glossmire. But that was before the Magic of Old returned to the world.
Elendin still isn't sure exactly what happened, or why it happened to her. She knows only that she was in the Master's studio, working with several other apprentices under his direction on his latest sculpture, when a strange sensation of heat formed in her belly and quickly built in intensity until she feared she would spontaneously combust. With a strangled shriek, she had thrust out her hands without even intending to do so, and a burst of fiery energy erupted from her palms. She collapsed to the floor, and when she was able to lift her head, she was astonished to see that half of the sculpture - a life-size marble horse in mid-gallop - now lay as rubble on the floor.
Master Leonin's other students had taken cover and now looked at Elendin in abject terror, but Leonin himself was more livid than fearful, banning her from the studio immediately. A few weeks later, he had summoned her back. By now, stories were arriving with incoming travelers of other strange events, and people were starting to talk about the return of gods and the Magic of Old.
Had it happened again since the incident in the studio, he asked. She quickly said it hadn't, but under his stern glare, admitted that she had accidentally set fire to the curtains in her room at the inn. In her sleep.
Leonin was as kind as a hugely famous and arrogant artist could be, but he made it clear that he couldn't keep her on as an apprentice. Art is a delicate undertaking, and whatever was happening to her was uncontrolled and destructive.
And just like that, Elendin's dreams were shattered. Her family have sent several letters, having heard about the wild incident in the studio, but she has burned all the letters and refused to respond. She won't go back to Glossmire, no matter what her parents say. She's been cheated of her destiny, and all she wants in life is to find out how to rid herself of these horrible and inconvenient powers.
I can totes work with the amesiac angel angle. But how did I come into the world? Was I born naturally, or did I arrive as a fully formed adult?
What's the social/political/economic dynamic of the region like? Are we on a generally Earth like society with a monarchy, powerful noble families, merchants, and peasants? Is there one major church /politically powerful religious institution a la the Catholic Church and the Papacy?
Dnd can be a combat heavy system. Are we going to be more fighty, or more politicky in this arc of the game?
My general instinct for the character would be him having a driving impulse to assess and infiltrate the political / religious power structure of the region with a goal of preparing it to welcome back the gods - or failing that to be able to brief the gods on the strengths and weaknesses they need to target to win over the populace.
Alternatively he could be a rabble rouser type working to bring faith to the poorest and at the same time destabilising the church/political institutions that have hijacked religious trappings to buttress political power.
Finally, if the gods are coming back, are the monsters back too? I could take the Cassandra angle and be a prophet of dire tidings that everyone ignores... until it's too late.
That should work. 16, 16, 11, 11, 14, 13
Rolls
Stats - (4d6, 4d6, 4d6, 4d6, 4d6, 4d6)
4d6 : (6643) = 19
4d6 : (6641) = 17
4d6 : (5133) = 12
4d6 : (3262) = 13
4d6 : (3536) = 17
4d6 : (4245) = 15
Born and raised in the Underdark, Balara knew little of the outside world. Her family survive by intuition and intelligence, using what meager resources they had to sustain their way of life. Everyone contributed to success; learning together, fighting together, or building together. Other creatures existed within the depths, some smart some primal, but her family had no interest getting involved.
Over the years Balara herself took an interest to learning and understanding the ways of those who came before. She saw the symbols carved on rock, the lost manuscripts left by people long before her, they were her guide, her teacher. They spoke of history, ancient magics, and most importantly: the world above, of it's wonder and life; this was simply too important to ignore. Presenting her findings to her family was met with opposition. "Why should we? We can thrive down here, the world above harbors nothing but destruction." Their words cut her deeply, but no matter, in the end she would see it done.
She would sneak out, finding the ancient highways to the surface. Eventually she made it, and at the time her emotions were almost too much to bear. What is this? Or that? How does it work, what purpose does it serve? This wasn't her last visit, and over time she felt the surface calling her. But the humans, that was the danger. Such fearsome creatures, as dangerous as her family claimed. She was eager to discover their way of life. She took quite a liking to their weapons in particular, as unwieldy as some were.
Too much time was invested in this venture, and her family confronted her about such activities. Balara saw anger and disappointment, but understanding too. And so they helped her, preparing her in whatever way they could for a proper journey. The next step will be her boldest yet: Infiltrate a settlement. The community of 'Esterwyn' seems ripe for such a task...
Rolls
4d4 times 10 - (4d4)
(2321) = 8
Venture re-explored the sight that they had found themselves in. It was hard going; it seemed that the sight had experienced some decay, many walls caving in. They finally found a path that led into a vast natural cave network, a strange find considering that they had been mapping the surface. The caves led to a settlement of smallfolk, who spoke two tongues, one wholly strange but the other similar enough to one of the languages they had been built with. The smallfolk taught them the new tongue, as they said it was common to all creatures who lived in this region. They asked the smallfolk if the map of the local area was still current, but the smallfolk informed them that it was completely unknown to them. Feeling the drive to remap the area Venture struck out fort the surface again...
What sort of tone are you going for with the world? For example, how's the general standard of living - are we looking at a time of prosperity and growth where most people can find work and support themselves, or a period where the super-wealthy are living like kings in gilded castles and most of the population is starving? How is the political scene - expansionist, progressive, authoritarian, corrupt? What's the role of religion in common people's lives, and how beneficial, divisive or parasitic are the churches?
I guess that's a roundabout way of asking "What are the prominent social ills of the time?"
It is ruled by an Oligarchy, a Great Council is overseen by the Potentate and the Council of Ten. The Council of Ten and the Potentate decide the business that is presented to the Great Council, which acts as a legislative body. The Potentate has a veto vote and the Council of Ten is lately seen as his advisors. Both the Potentate and Council of Ten is elected by the Great Council, they are lifetime positions but cannot be passed onto relatives. Being the leadership for the capital, they also have the ability to elect local governors to rule the rest of the country on their behalf. In extreme circumstances, such as war, the Potentate and Council of Ten can disband the Great Council and take the mantle of leadership directly.
Esterwyn relies on the shipping trade from all over the country and even further to fuel it. Banks are common through the city, boosting the trade in the city even further. Esterwyn is famous for its entertainment and merchant districts, while its seafront quarter never sleeps with vessels coming and going at all hours. The government district rings the Watergardens, an area where the nobles establish their villas, both districts combine to form the centre of the city. Major roads are not common in the floating city of Esterwyn, instead canals snake their way through and divide the districts, as such gondolas and other boats are seen through the city. The city does contain a slum area where crime is high but the Potentate and the Council of Ten seem content to contain the issue to the district and ensure that it doesn't spread. Theological concerns aren't really an issue in the city, with most people remaining deeply atheistic but indviduals and the government are generally content to live and let live. At most a devoute and open follower of a god may be scorned, shunned or snubbed but it is unlikely they would become the victim of any targeted violence.
A few quirks of the city is that any firearms are forbidden in the city, after a failed uprising against the Potentate centuries ago. When travellers arrive, they any such weapons to the nearest storehouse that are overseen by the city guard. If this type of equipment is purchased it is sent to a storehouse, to be collected when the individual leaves. In both instances, they are provided with paperwork to prove their ownership that must be presented to the storehouse.
There is also a monthly flat tax for everyone in the city Visitors are required to register in an official tavern or inn when staying and when they do are provided with visitor’s documentation. These papers are used to determine the length of your stay in the city and payment must be made each month or part thereof to the owner of the inn or tavern. One month payment must be made in advance. The city guard can ask for these papers at any time and failure to produce them can see you arrested for tax evasion.
That's all general knowledge stuff that your characters would know entering the city. If you have any other questions, just ask.
@Whistler: Would it help for these characters to have met before the game starts, or is that something you'd rather cover in-game?
@Jovin: We are just waiting for a character sheet from you.
Edit: Bam, healthy as a horse. :)
Rolls
Constitution check - (1d20+1)
(17) + 1 = 18
Um.
Damn.
Rolls
Constitution check - (1d20+3)
(4) + 3 = 7
Whatever you think would work best with your current plans is good. :)
I really like the idea of the warforged's first encounter being with svirfneblin - that's got to give you some weird ideas of what the world is like. And then the two of them travelling to the surface together is really sweet.
Con check coming up.
That should have been a 1d20 + 2, so consider that a 14.
Rolls
Constitution Check - (1d20)
(12) = 12
Rolls
Constitution Check - (1d20+3)
(15) + 3 = 18
If, however, Margaret drops hints that a medical (or even magical) resolution is possible, that's the hook that would motivate El to respond to her. Eventually, if extermination of her powers doesn't seem likely, she'll be looking for a way to sublimate them, or to control them sufficiently to continue her pursuit of an artistic career.
Oh, and here's the con check.
Rolls
Con check - (1d20+1)
(8) + 1 = 9
Oh, and here's the con check.
In other news, I have decided to put a timeline on this since most people have submitted sheets. We're going to kick off tomorrow. Please make sure you roll a constitution check before play starts....because of reasons. Could you all do me one last favour and add your backstories to your character sheets? It will just make it a lot easier for me to refer to at short notice.
Rorin’s curses were swallowed up by the opalescent mists that were swiftly descending about the caravan as it crept towards Esterwyn. After days of hard travel overland towards that fabled port, the merchant company had just sighted its outermost walls over the horizon as the sun began to set. Sore from long days sleeping rough, Rorin and his men had decided to cast caution to the winds and press on into the night; hoping that with a little luck they could finally sleep in warm beds.
Then, out of nowhere, the fog. Gossamer wisps falling about the company like spider silk one moment; the next a fog so think you could barely see your hand in front of your face.
"All halt!" cried Rorin. "We’re likely to fall and break a neck in this murk. Bloody hell. It’s sleeping rolls again tonight, lads." Faint groans and mutterings could barely be heard.
"Right strange weather, this" muttered Derrin as he sidled up to Rorin’s wagon. Faithful Derrin was an ox of a man – standing some six feet tall and nearly as broad. The captain of Rorin’s guards was ever watchful and more than a little paranoid. "Any manner of bandit or ruffian could lurk about in this, m’lord, and we’d not see his steel ‘til it was buried in our breasts."
Rorin laughed at that. So close to Esterwyn there was little to fear. "Take heart, good Derrin. The Oligarchy may be greedy, but it pays its soldiers well. The roads are well patrolled and we’ve naught to fear here. But all means, have the men circle the wagons if it pleases you."
Derrin grunted sourly at that, "As you say m’lor…"
FWOOSH
Sudden heat cascaded through the night, as thunder exploded and tempestuous winds blasted into the wagons. Rorin watched in horror as from the mists a lighter wagon came tumbling end over end; slamming into Derrin with bone crushing force.
"Cannon!" shouted Rorin as his wits returned to him. It could be naught else. His men were screaming; or was it the horses? The hideous caterwauling of beasts in mortal agony drowned out all else.
Suddenly there was silence. The mists were gone – scattered by the incredible concussion. Rorin cast about frantically, trying at once to find some shelter from the deadly cannon fire and take stock of his men.
Faint groans rose all about him as his men recovered themselves. The horses had fled in terror. His wagons were strewn about and his precious cargo of silks and spices lay spread out over the muddy road. Derrin was… Rorin shuddered and looked away.
A short distance ahead of them a man lay sprawled in the road. Not one of his. He was… glowing. No, a trick of the eyes. The afterimage of the explosion. The man was battered. His fine silks rent and muddied. A fellow merchant caught in the blast? He lay face down.
"Jacob! Rime! Get your asses moving! See to the men! Tanner! Secure the cargo! Whatever the blazes that was, it could come again! Get moving! Go!"
Rorin stalked forward towards the strange man. He would not leave a soul to die if he could help it. Carefully Rorin reached down and turned the man over. With a practiced hand he felt for a pulse. There! Faint, but strong. The man might live.
"Whoever you are, you’re one lucky bastard." Rorin muttered. "Jenkins! Attend me. Help me lift this man into a wagon."
"This night brings ill fortune," thought Rorin, "mayhaps this man is noble. Or rich! In saving him, I may have made something of value out of this mess."
_____
Hallion groaned, squinting against the piercing light.
"Carefully, now. You’ve had quite the night."
The voice was cheerful, painfully so. Hallion’s head throbbed. Gingerly he opened his eyes. He was abed, stripped to the waist. The room was well appointed and smelled faintly of pipesmoke. His ribs were carefully bandaged, and at his side sat an older man. Red hair fading to silver framed a grizzled face.
"Rorin. Found you face down in the road last night. You’re lucky to be alive. Some asshole was playing with a cannon, and we caught the blast end of it."
Hallion began to sit up, but sharp pain lanced through his side.
"Damn!" he gasped. "You have my thanks."
Rorin grinned at that. "Your thanks I humbly accept stranger; but your name I would have. Saving you cost me a pretty penny. Can you repay?"
Hallion paused at that, searching. Moments ticked by before he replied, "Hallion. I am called Hallion."
Rorin leaned back in his chair. "Hallion. No surname? From whence do you hail, good sir? What brings you to Esterwyn?"
Panic began to well in Hallion's breast. He was… lost. Incomplete. Something was missing. Gods! What? He could remember nothing! His name alone was left to him.
A memory bubbled to the surface.
"I remember the stars. Ten thousand brilliant pillars of flame, blazing in incandescent glory in the endless void. I was one of them, once… I think. Something – no, someone! – drew down upon the flames. The agony of it! The ecstasy! Lashing tendrils of celestial flame drawn and spun into… this."
Rorin stared at Hallion deadpan. "Aye. Well. You’ve had a rough night. Mayhaps the head wounds were worse than it appears. Excuse me."
"Damnit. He’s addled. I’ll not see so much as a bleeding copper in recompense." He thought sourly as he saw himself down the stairs to the tavern's common room.
Rorin made straight for the innkeep.
"The man upstairs? He’ll live, but he’s none of mine. Mad as a hatter, it seems. I’ll not chase bad money with good. You’ve money for his stay last night. I’ll pay no more."
With that, Rorin tromped out of the Wiley Whistle inn. He owed Hallion nothing, and frankly, he had no time for fools or madmen. He had a fortune to restore. Hallion could make his own way in this world.
Rolls
Con check - (1d20+1)
(20) + 1 = 21
Dear Miss Quayle,
I read of the recent events at Master Leonin's workshop. It is my suspicion that the causes of this incident involved energies that are difficult for your former Master to comprehend, and that you are being unfairly blamed for its outcome.
I imagine that you are feeling confused and angry about this sudden turn in your fortunes. I believe that I may be able to offer some unique insight into the phenomena you have experienced, or at least to hear your side of the story with a willing ear and an open mind.
Yours,
Margaret Ashdown
(contact details also provided)