Sure, we've all played in a D&D game where the DM was obviously just ripping off Tolkien, Jordan, or Weis and Hickman. Wouldn't you have preferred that the DM rip off stories...FROM THE FAR EAST!?
Tales of the Legend of Final Saga : The Second Phantasy Profile is the working title for a 3/3.5e D&D game based on the anime and JRPG view of medieval fantasy. The swords are oversized, the heroes are color coded, and all the western myths used were translated by a harried salaryman that barely speaks English.
It looks like Anaximander and HotaCray have prettymuch cancelled on me. So I could use another person or two that's interested. Otherwise, four is good enough for me, really.
We'll be playing Sunday nights, from 7 PM Central to around 12 Midnight. Right when Shadowrun used to be, hint hint guys.
A mysterious ceremony is about to take place in the mythical Tower in the center of this strange world. The following characters have been assembled from far off lands to represent their various homelands. It was just supposed to be a diplomatic mission. Watch the ceremony, go to the festival, enjoy the feast and a very comfortable stay in the Tower's legendary guest quarters. Then it all went horribly wrong
Name : Kanitu
Gender : Male
Age : 20's
Alignment : LN
Country : Northland; blatent Camelot ripoff with some viking overtones
Capital City : Tolemac
God : Midgard, frost dragon god whose remains make up the northern mountain range
Color : Blue
Weapon : 1h sword & kite shield
Sword : Stosri, named after epic fable from Northland
Mount : Saerom, female, and the proper name for the species is Dralnai (ice dragon/beast)
Class : Fighter
Personality: Brilliant with weaponry and very simple things, and not much else. Stereotypical knight.
Look : One large blue shoulder plate on his right and a much smaller one on his left, and a tabard with his country's emblem on it, white dragon (also on shield). Short dirty blonde hair, no beard.
Name : Warren Stills
Origin : Some backwoods island in the west
Color : Red
Personality : Mostly good guy whose greed takes the better of him from time to time
Look : Mildly armored with a bright red cloak
Weapon : Greatsword
Name : Roland Radfist
Class : Druid
Colour : Grey
Weapon : Badger/Spear
Personality : Like nature, he is the rage of the storm and the calm of the desert. Some might say he's got serious emotional issues, but he says he's just close to his god
Name : Nori Endwood
Gender : Male
Age : 23
Alignment : NG
Country : Mataki Forest
Capital : Brown Boo Village
God : Luna, moon goddess
Color : Green
Weapon : Shortbow
Bow : Jackal
Mount : Giant raccoon Shori
Class : Sorc
Personality : Very nervous, quiet at first, but can open up
Look : Mostly covered up by green cloak, with green eyes
Name : Vall Silverstone
Gender : Male
Age : 17
Alignment : CN
Country : Tylus; coastal nation of plains, run by merchant's guild, known for great food, Arabian style
Capital : Westport
God : Sierrist, catgirl goddess of love and desire
Color : Black
Weapon : Martial Arts
Martial Art : Way of the Nine Deities
Mount : None, always seem to be in the right place at the right time
Class : Rogue
Personality : Carefree, hedonistic lecher
Look : Average height, thin, with striking features and short, red hair. Wears a black, ninja-style gi under any other clothing.
Name : 'Killy' Maeno
One thousand years ago...
Gender : Male
Alignment : CN
Country : Serpica ;steampunkish island chain, Greece-like, trade central on port city
Capital :North - Gakyo (port city), South Serpica - Junae Isle (mercanary/military HQ)
Color : Purple
Weapon : Firearms (revolver)
Revolver : Ashen
Mount : Three-wheeled motorbike Skelter
Class : Rogue
Personality : Sarcastic, cynical veteran
Look : Purple hair (long, tied back with red and white bandanna) and eyes with goggles, tight purple combat pants with pockets, and sturdy boots. Tan sleeveless vest, black undershirt, line tattoo on left arm, left wristband.
A legendary warrior and philosopher living in a far off land had advanced as far as he thought was possible. Still seeking the next level of strength and enlightenment, he developed a technique to expell all of the evil energy from his body. He planned to improve his spirit through this, and to improve his body by defeating the manifestation it would create.
Unfortunately, his evil energy greatly overpowered the warrior with its ruthlessness, cunning, and unexpected strength. The master had never suspected that so much of his power was drawn from his darker side, and his newly purged, entirely good body was completely unable to fend the new creation off. Nearly dead, the warrior was chased from his homeland and left to wander the world with no posessions or contacts, attempting to regain his strength.
The legend of the master has been erased entirely from his homeland, and the tale gives him no name in other lands. But everyone knows the name of his dark, murderous instincts : Rathborne.
He quickly moved to unseat the ruler of his homeland, using his physical resemblance to the master to slip into the royal home without incident. After slaughtering the royal family and the guard loyal to them, he firmly took power. Ruling with an iron fist, adding the power of the mage council to his own, he shaped the country into a massive engine of war. God, king, general, archwizard, and every other title that could be thought of was given to him, and he sent out his forces from his realm in a wave of violence never before seen.
Great countries fell, the war raging for years until they finally rallied around the forces of the Tower. Combining all their magics and energies, they prepared to destroy Rathborne by focusing this all through a series of magically and spiritually atuned orbs. Their plan was discovered, however, and the great blast only grazed the great royal home Rathborne had taken for himself, leaving a huge furrow dug through the earth on the way to it.
It missed and mostly harmed nothing but ground and smaller settlements, because he had impossibly harnessed magic and energy of his own to lift his realm from the earth itself. A huge crater was left behind, the sea blocked up around the rim, as if unwilling to enter. No animal lives in this waste, and no plant grows. Above it floats the country, casting a massive shadow straight down at all times.
The power used up by both sides was very slow to recharge, and an uneasy, unspoken truce was entered into. Fearing a sneak attack, the Tower scattered half of the orbs across the land. The other half were hidden deep within the Tower itself. The locations of the orbs in the Tower and the ones hidden away were revealed only to a very select few of the mystics that lived inside, vowing to stay there until their knowledge was needed.
Today, Rathborne has finally gathered his strength, along with a harem of warrior women that have inspired him to further endeavours. With his Muses by his side, his view has shifted from simple domination...to complete destruction. Interested in nothing less than the annihilation of all that is, Rathborne seeks to collect the orbs and funnel his powers through them, perverting their purpose and striking at the very heart of creation.
Now, only this band of novice heroes can protect the orbs. Gifted with the trove hidden within the Tower after one of the Muses and a small army of followers attacked during a ceremony and festival celebrating the one hundredth year of freedom from Rathborne's war, they must travel to the hiding places of the other orbs. Their duty is to gather up the twins of their gifted orbs, before Rathborne can discover where they have been hidden away.
Meanwhile, somewhere...a forgotten master has been training for one thousand years...