notes on appearance, personality and mannerisms can be found in sheet
Bacstor(y)(ies) Thing(s):
Part 1...
The ceilings of the sewer (and catacombs) dripped, illuminated by the red lamps scattered through various places where brickwork had failed (or corpses had been conveniently displaced), giving an ominous glow to the ragged crowd and the man upon whom all eyes were fixed, a human draped in dark robes. His voice enthralled the crowd.
"Ydria... welcome to... Me. Heh. If this even is Ydria. Am I Ydria? I should be asking you! As above, so below? I don't believe that's so. We don't. It's crap."
A few laughs tittered in the crowd, and a pair of men concealing an arsenal of weapons beneath their cloaks cackled.
"Charlatan. This'll be easier than I thought."
"And look at the crowd... these tossers will run like flies once the job's done."
The speaker continued.
"...the jaws of the universe opened and swallowed me whole, and thus digested, I swam within its blood, the paths of all living things through time. Because that's the thing, you see... without time all is clearly shown... fungal hyphae crawling through an agonized egg of existence... psychic larvae... the entire universe a child yet unborn and we its furtive thoughts of ascention and destruction..."
One of the men at the back rolled his eyes.
"By Chaos itself, could he be getting it more wrong?"
"You said it... I was looking forward to the gold... but it's not even about money at this point."
"It never was."
"Damned right it wasn't."
The robed figure continued. But something was... amiss. His voice shifted a bit in pitch and took on a peculiar... quality.
"...so whatcha listening at me fer, eh? Gittat an' do it! Feckin' do it! It's all out there, and y'dint need me ta tell ye tha'..."
One of the two armed men straightened up as if in alarm.
"Feckin? What does that even mean?"
"Wait a minute... something's wrong..."
One drew a shortsword from beneath his cloak and charged the stage, as the second shouted at him.
"Don't do it, you fool! I saw his face! It's really him!"
No sooner than the warning had parted his lips, his compatriot was pierced by a crossbow bolt and fell to the ground. The crowd screamed, and immediately began to disperse.
"Damn!" the second man hissed, and began to run through the dark corridors, dodging the steel-clad dragonborn guardsmen who were already filling the area. Suddenly he came to a stop. Before him stood the black-robed figure.
"So... aiming to kill me? You should know by now it's never worked."
"Lord Stargrave, I didn't know it was -- hrrk"
"You never knew anything... and you never embraced it."
Soon, a patrol of the guardsmen filled the room, crossbows at the ready, surrounding the robed figure as the assailant dropped to the ground with two feet of steel piercing his gut. The leader of the draconic guarddsmen stepped out and held up a hand.
"Lower your weapons, you fools... how many times have we been over this? He's not Stargrave."
"He isn't?"
"Didn't I just say he isn't? Idiots."
Part 2...
"Your cooperation in this matter is appreciated, Mr. Grant."
The man lowered his black cowl, exposing a human face and demeanor that seemed quite different from the one on the stage.
"Thank you, Captain. I trust that the charges will be dropped."
"Of course. For your participation, that business on the docks last week is forgotten. Whether it was prostitution or solicitation of prostitution --"
"The arresting officer wasn't quite sure of which I was allegedly guilty."
"-- well whichever it was, it's no longer of concern."
"Much appreciated."
"I must say... you're a talented psychic, Mr. Grant. Holding a crowd in thrall like that, impersonating their leader.
"It was nothing. And please, call me Gideon."
"Well, Gideon... have you considered my offer?"
"I can't recall the offer... will it get me arrested?"
"Funny. Look, if you continue to work with us as an agent of the guard, you'll be well compensated. It wouldn't be a bad move, Gideon. Your lack of affiliation is dangerous."
"I'm sorry... but I must decline."
"May I ask why?"
"You may."
Gideon tossed away the satin robes and walked down a dark corridor, gathering his clothes and hides about himself as he rounded a corner.
Part 3...
Gideon sat upon a stone near the entrance to the sewers (and/or catacombs), so that he might feel the night air upon his face without being at risk of discovery. He held out a hand, and a pipe was placed in it almost immediately.
"Well done, Master Stargrave." Spoke up a whispering voice.
"Thank you... whomever. Pity... I really had something going before it really started to kick in. What was that, anyway?"
"Can't say. You picked it off these walls yourself, Master." Replied another.
"Ah. A shame. I wonder what it was? One must be able to replicate, verify, and... what's the last one?"
"Dunno. Why'd you kill two of your own?" inquired a third (perhaps) voice, "The cattle I can understand --"
"Talentless halfwits seeking the Cult of Dischord. Their passing I don't quite lament. As for the other two... if they were willing to kill me --"
"-- you put them up to it --" interjected a (possble) fourth
"Not the point! They should have figured it out in time not to try and stick me. And it was either both of them or neither of them. Now leave me alone, you lot."
"Yes sir." All four (or was it five?) had spoken with unerring synchronicity, sounding utterly like one voice.
Gideon / Stargrave rubbed his face vigorously for a moment, relaxing into a nearly blank, pale and expressionless visage. He sat back, and smoked his pipe.
"All in a day's work for King Mars. And whomever else, I suppose."
He continued to suppose, alone (again? or as he had been? for how long?) until a crack of moonlight made its way toward the floor... a very clear sign that one must be moving on.
Shakis is of average height, and has the lithe and muscular build of a gymnast. His skin is pale, reminiscent of alabaster, his hair an unruly mop of black in contrast to his skin. Shakis' eyes are dark, lined in black-inked tattoos that drop to points from the corner of his eyes, while his lips are painted black. Starting from his lower lip and running over his chin and down his neck to disappear under the black rags he wears as clothing have been tattooed letters and small pictographs the likes of which have not been seen by those outside of his monastery. These tattoos will be found to cover the entirety of his body with the exceptions of his hands and feet, and he will divulge neither their meaning nor how he came to possess the strange markings.
Shakis dons simple black rags as clothing that seem layered and cut to crudely resemble the black feathers of a crow or raven; simple laced sandals adorn his alabaster feet. He has the habit of cocking his head this way and that when observing something, reminiscent of a bird in some ways. It is this quirk, along with his overall appearance that has earned Shakis the nickname of Crow since his arrival in Ydria a few months ago. His most unnerving quality however, is the unnatural and unnerving way in which he speaks; Shakis seems to speak with two voices at once, the first a natural tone, the second a harsh baritone that seems to echo his words. Shakis has found this trait to be quite to his detriment since his arrival, hence his quiet nature.
The Queen doesn't like competition
He cocked his head slightly to the left, and then back to the right as his black-rimmed dark eyes scanned the forest floor below. Their footfalls and whispered words caught in his ears, and he cocked his head back to the left as the small group of soldiers entered the clearing; nk’bara he had heard them called, fey-hunters. And now they hunted him, or so they thought.
As the final spearman entered the clearing a few paces behind his fellows, wind-fluttered through black cloth. Shakis’ sandaled-foot landed squarely upon the unsuspecting soldier’s helmed head, crushing him to the ground as Shakis pushed off and landed gracefully in the dense canopy above, opposite his previous perch. The surprised nk’bara turned, their weapons ready as their brother fell; their leader gave a few whispered orders and hand gestures as the soldiers circled, their spears pointing outward in a circle of death. Shakis’ black-painted lips drew into a crude smile, amusement at his foes obvious mistake, and then he stepped from the branch and vanished into shadow.
Surprised alarm rang out amidst the circled warriors as the smoky tendrils drew up from the earth amidst them, coalescing into a form more reminiscent of a bird than a crouched man. The first spear struck, falling through the form and pulling away trails of shadow as it did; Shakis merely cocked his head and smiled as he stared at the frightened man before exploding and driving his knee into the man’s chest, pushing him back. As they both crashed to the hard earth, Shakis rolled to the right as a spear fell into the earth behind him, then struck out catching the side of his attacker’s knee; he knew from the sickening pop and scream of his assailant that the soldier’s joint had been broken and he turned his gaze to another attacker. Rolling back to the left, Shakis pushed himself from the earth to take to his feet, bending back at the waist as another spear barely missed its mark, and he spun into the shaft of the spear to bring himself within reach of his attacker before driving his elbow into the man’s face. The soldier fell back in a spray of blood, falling to the earth unconscious.
Shakis turned quickly, crouching low, the black-rag clothing that hung from his form brushing the earth. Only two remained; one frightened and bewildered spearman and the hunter that stood a behind him. The hunter shoved the spearman forward as Shakis pushed himself into the air, arms outstretched. He hung there for a moment, the cloth falling from his arms like black wings before he fell upon the spearman, driving his knee into the unfortunate man. Shakis crouched upon the unmoving form of his enemy, staring at the hunter only a few paces before him, his head cocked to the left and then the right.
The hunter took a step backward, his eyes moving to the five still forms that lay strewn about the clearing and the creature that crouched upon one of them. “You are nothing but a crow, feeding upon the dead ways of a heretic past!” he shouted as he drew forth his blade.
“Ahh,” the sound that escaped from between Shakis’ black lips caused the man pause and he stopped his advance; the shadar-kai spoke as if two separate creatures inhabited one form, the voices speaking in unison. “It is you that feed upon the dead, though it is not flesh you devour but spirit,” he spoke. “Tell your Masters that the Queen of Letherna does not like competition,” he quipped as an afterthought.
The hunter roared in anger and moved towards his prey, but fell back as a score of black-feathered birds erupted from where Shakis crouched, the wings and incessant caws driving the swordsman back before they fell into shadow. The hunter looked about in a daze, his ears still ringing from the racket of the birds; the crow he sought had vanished with the others it would seem.
Background
Born into poverty to parents that had all but given into the ennui of the realm of shadow, Shakis was sold at an early age to a traveling monk and his retinue. Taken to the monk’s monastery deep in the snow-capped mountains that surround the city of Letherna, Shakis was trained in the ancient techniques the monks practiced their in the name of their Queen. While most shadar-kai fought off the pervasive melancholy of the plain through painful scarring, flagellation, and excruciating pleasure, the monks dedicated themselves to the Raven Queen and physical labor. For days on end they would practice their arts before rest would come, and upon completion of a task another letter from the Book of Fate would be added to the tattoos that adorned the monk’s body.
But the Raven Queen has many enemies, and thus do her worshippers have many obstacles to overcome. In training to combat these enemies of the Queen, often a specimen would be captured and brought to the monastery for study and training purposes. That is how the Nightwalker came to be there when it chose to reveal its true power. Most of the monks died that night, those that could escape wouldn’t such was the fervor of their devotion to the Queen of Death, and those that could neither battle the beast nor escape were pulled through the shadows and scattered throughout the realms. This is how Shakis came to be in Ydria.
His arrival in the wooded lands surrounding a small village of farmers and laborers would have went unnoticed were it not for a small group hunting in the woods. When Shakis fell from shadow, the hunters fired their bows in fear. Still caught up in the fervor of the battle from which he was only moments before ejected and confused as to his new surroundings, Shakis attacked the hunters before fleeing into the shadowed woods. The hunters, bruised and beaten by the strange creature that appeared from nowhere reported their encounter to agents of the nk’bara, and Shakis has been on the run ever since.
For several months now, Shakis has waged a guerrilla-type campaign of resistance against the nk’bara, as much for his own survival as the thrill of the hunt. He has become something of a local legend among the villagers and hunters of the area, and a pain the backside for the local nk’bara.
About me
I'm new to the site, and this is actually my first post, but please don't let sway your judgement of my commitment to playing. I've been around D&D since about 1980, and have only recently taken an interest in 4e. Unfortunately, I have no table-top game to participate in at the moment, so I thought I'd search the net and "lo and behold", I found this intriguing game. I can post daily:)
The character sheet needs minor modifications--sorry about that--I went away on Friday for a bike ride and don't have my CB with me to make changes for an orokos sheet. Mechanically he is sound, and I'll just make story tweaks to the background info in his sheet.
I'm not sure about some details of the world, so I present his background before, but you can feel free to mod/edit it as you please. If you want to add in someone with a grudge against him, or an old ally, I've left it open enough for that too. I'd probably take Fighter feat when I get my next feat to multi-class him.
Personality
Consumed with wanderlust, Fyden is always scouting for his next trip. He is fascinated by history, art, and culture, and proficient in combat from necessity. He lacks the mental discipline to make a serious study of magic or other intellectual pursuits.
He delights in pleasure, and easily falls prey to temptation.
Mannerisms and Appearance
A scowl quickly becomes a rakish smile. Fyden chases after pleasure and experiences with great gusto, fond of proclaiming that something is "the best!" While he can be heard musing about wonderful food or performances he has already seen, it is far more likely that he'll be talking about something he hasn't yet experienced, but which he is sure is "the best!"
Tall and lean, Fyden has a head of moppish brown hair but a meticulously groomed very short beard. He typically dresses in woodland colors, and speaks enthusiastically of his travels. He plays a few instruments, but is most at ease with drums and singing.
Background
Born to Calandra Amarr, an elven woman, Fyden was born and raised in a small elven community--one of several largely hidden encampments of refugees. Growing up, he was a constant reminder to the other elves of his mothers recklessness and the human who sentenced his kind to their dreary existence.
When Fyden wanted to leave to seek his own way, he was not discourage--neither by the encampment, nor by his own mother, who had become dedicated to the elven cause. A woman of strong impulses, she'd had Fyden following a brief infatuation with humans and human culture, and had in the last ten years become strongly enamored with the elvish cause. In Fyden, she sees a bridge between two cultures, and hope for the elves.
Fyden left home and wandered from city to city, town to town. For a brief time, he followed a troupe of actors and entertainers.
As he ran out of coin, he joined a mercenary band, fighting on the front lines, and enchanting his comrades with tales of glorious battles around the campfire.
Fyden takes after his mother in many ways--especially in following his impulses. He has left behind his comrades repeatedly, moving on to greener pastures, and easily forgets the people he has met. He maintains "acquaintances" more than friends.
He has written several travel guides and booklets, under false names.
About Me
I play in 2 active games (Dresdenphiles Touch of Madness and Donuts Zephyr Knights) and DM another. You can look at my activity levels on them and see that I'm really active & definitely post at least once a day to keep story moving.
Alright. I have decided to do something...unorthodox. I have decided to pick two parties.
You will be posting here for OOC, but for IC, you will be either posting in Residuum Revolution Arcane, or Residuum Revolution Strange.
I decided that there could be two paths, and that there were some natural groupings. I'm really excited about both paths. But they will be very different, I think.
Residuum Revolution Arcane
Bhow- Riishi Antera: Razorclaw Shifter Shaman (Stalker Spirit)
steever- Fyden Amarr: Half-Elf Bard
Dac- Hibiki: Male Human Swordmage
mightyjongyo- Alise Sellyn, Human Wizard
Witch_Hunter_84- Nkbarros Impkith, Tiefling, Scourge Warlock
finkle- Dietrich Uberwauld, Human Witchhunter (Avenger)
Residuum Revolution Strange
Aegof- Ladej Cai
Unsalted- Slip
Lord Pallington- Tordain Silverpact
dresdenphile- Ilesombra Cylcrest
Horsehoe- King Mars
Turanos- Mnemo
I figure you will be using this time for some introductions and a little role-play, but when posting rolls: use RR Arcane or RR Strange to reference your campaign.
It is my job to keep track in OOC which game you are in so feel free to post away in here.
I am super-excited and am working on maps right now. I will be using a googledoc battle map like in susan's PoL campaign so you will have access and can move things around when I can't.
Umm...I can't think of anything else right now. Questions?
I will send links to edit the maps as soon as it becomes necessary. Strange should have already gotten a PM for theirs. Currently, I am at work and can't create your tokens or upload the maps to the threads, so you'll have to wait til I get home.
You can edit your position on the map by accessing the googledoc and logging in. Any questions, let me know.
I have a question about the power in spoiler tags below.
What is the range on it? The effect leads me to believe that the power should have a range, even the flavor text seems like it. But it says melee where the range would be. Is it any target i see, then i move them and do damage? Or am I reading this wrong?
I have a question about the power in spoiler tags below.
What is the range on it? The effect leads me to believe that the power should have a range, even the flavor text seems like it. But it says melee where the range would be. Is it any target i see, then i move them and do damage? Or am I reading this wrong?
Umm...that's bizarre. I'm houseruling it to have a range of 10. How does that sound?
I have a question about the power in spoiler tags below.
What is the range on it? The effect leads me to believe that the power should have a range, even the flavor text seems like it. But it says melee where the range would be. Is it any target i see, then i move them and do damage? Or am I reading this wrong?
Umm...that's bizarre. I'm houseruling it to have a range of 10. How does that sound?
I have a question about the power in spoiler tags below.
What is the range on it? The effect leads me to believe that the power should have a range, even the flavor text seems like it. But it says melee where the range would be. Is it any target i see, then i move them and do damage? Or am I reading this wrong?
Umm...that's bizarre. I'm houseruling it to have a range of 10. How does that sound?
Otherwise its just ridiculous.
Unless the weapon itself has a range?
Its range is listed. Its range is Melee.
But how do you teleport it to you then if it's next to you? What we need is the range of the teleport. Horse, only you could figure that out for me.
Posts
Leaders
Riishi Antera: Razorclaw Shifter Shaman (Stalker Spirit)
Thorn: Dwarf Shaman
"King" Mars a.k.a. Gideon Grant a.k.a Stargrave a.k.a. ...Changeling Bardent
Fyden Amarr: Half-Elf Bard
Defenders
Hibiki: Male Human Swordmage
Esker Heap, Longtooth Shifter Warden
Ilesombra Cylcrest, Human Paladin
Controllers
Ezhelya, Githzerai Invoker
Alise Sellyn, Human Wizard
Mnemo, Shardmind Psion
Strikers
Ashard: Tiefling Monk
Slip: Changeling Hexblade
Tordain Silverpact, Dwarf Avenger
Nkbarros Impkith, Tiefling, Scourge Warlock
Dietrich Uberwauld, Human Witchhunter (Avenger)
Shakis, a.k.a. "Crow": Shadar-kai Monk
Hybrids
Ladej Cai, Genasi Ranger | Swordmage
Zithra Melitch in Star Wars: An Empire's End
Jellica in In the Shadow of Zeus
Oh, sorry. 3.5 state of mind, there.
Zithra Melitch in Star Wars: An Empire's End
Jellica in In the Shadow of Zeus
and things that revolve in general
anyway
if revolution is to be a theme...
"King" Mars a.k.a. Gideon Grant a.k.a Stargrave a.k.a. ...
...or something like that
So anyways, raggedly built Leader for hybrid Leader-on-Leader Action
(Bard/Ardent... Bardent.)
Character Sheet:
http://4e.orokos.com/sheets/2976
"Ydria... welcome to... Me. Heh. If this even is Ydria. Am I Ydria? I should be asking you! As above, so below? I don't believe that's so. We don't. It's crap."
A few laughs tittered in the crowd, and a pair of men concealing an arsenal of weapons beneath their cloaks cackled.
"Charlatan. This'll be easier than I thought."
"And look at the crowd... these tossers will run like flies once the job's done."
The speaker continued.
"...the jaws of the universe opened and swallowed me whole, and thus digested, I swam within its blood, the paths of all living things through time. Because that's the thing, you see... without time all is clearly shown... fungal hyphae crawling through an agonized egg of existence... psychic larvae... the entire universe a child yet unborn and we its furtive thoughts of ascention and destruction..."
One of the men at the back rolled his eyes.
"By Chaos itself, could he be getting it more wrong?"
"You said it... I was looking forward to the gold... but it's not even about money at this point."
"It never was."
"Damned right it wasn't."
The robed figure continued. But something was... amiss. His voice shifted a bit in pitch and took on a peculiar... quality.
"...so whatcha listening at me fer, eh? Gittat an' do it! Feckin' do it! It's all out there, and y'dint need me ta tell ye tha'..."
One of the two armed men straightened up as if in alarm.
"Feckin? What does that even mean?"
"Wait a minute... something's wrong..."
One drew a shortsword from beneath his cloak and charged the stage, as the second shouted at him.
"Don't do it, you fool! I saw his face! It's really him!"
No sooner than the warning had parted his lips, his compatriot was pierced by a crossbow bolt and fell to the ground. The crowd screamed, and immediately began to disperse.
"Damn!" the second man hissed, and began to run through the dark corridors, dodging the steel-clad dragonborn guardsmen who were already filling the area. Suddenly he came to a stop. Before him stood the black-robed figure.
"So... aiming to kill me? You should know by now it's never worked."
"Lord Stargrave, I didn't know it was -- hrrk"
"You never knew anything... and you never embraced it."
Soon, a patrol of the guardsmen filled the room, crossbows at the ready, surrounding the robed figure as the assailant dropped to the ground with two feet of steel piercing his gut. The leader of the draconic guarddsmen stepped out and held up a hand.
"Lower your weapons, you fools... how many times have we been over this? He's not Stargrave."
"He isn't?"
"Didn't I just say he isn't? Idiots."
Part 2...
The man lowered his black cowl, exposing a human face and demeanor that seemed quite different from the one on the stage.
"Thank you, Captain. I trust that the charges will be dropped."
"Of course. For your participation, that business on the docks last week is forgotten. Whether it was prostitution or solicitation of prostitution --"
"The arresting officer wasn't quite sure of which I was allegedly guilty."
"-- well whichever it was, it's no longer of concern."
"Much appreciated."
"I must say... you're a talented psychic, Mr. Grant. Holding a crowd in thrall like that, impersonating their leader.
"It was nothing. And please, call me Gideon."
"Well, Gideon... have you considered my offer?"
"I can't recall the offer... will it get me arrested?"
"Funny. Look, if you continue to work with us as an agent of the guard, you'll be well compensated. It wouldn't be a bad move, Gideon. Your lack of affiliation is dangerous."
"I'm sorry... but I must decline."
"May I ask why?"
"You may."
Gideon tossed away the satin robes and walked down a dark corridor, gathering his clothes and hides about himself as he rounded a corner.
Part 3...
"Well done, Master Stargrave." Spoke up a whispering voice.
"Thank you... whomever. Pity... I really had something going before it really started to kick in. What was that, anyway?"
"Can't say. You picked it off these walls yourself, Master." Replied another.
"Ah. A shame. I wonder what it was? One must be able to replicate, verify, and... what's the last one?"
"Dunno. Why'd you kill two of your own?" inquired a third (perhaps) voice, "The cattle I can understand --"
"Talentless halfwits seeking the Cult of Dischord. Their passing I don't quite lament. As for the other two... if they were willing to kill me --"
"-- you put them up to it --" interjected a (possble) fourth
"Not the point! They should have figured it out in time not to try and stick me. And it was either both of them or neither of them. Now leave me alone, you lot."
"Yes sir." All four (or was it five?) had spoken with unerring synchronicity, sounding utterly like one voice.
Gideon / Stargrave rubbed his face vigorously for a moment, relaxing into a nearly blank, pale and expressionless visage. He sat back, and smoked his pipe.
"All in a day's work for King Mars. And whomever else, I suppose."
He continued to suppose, alone (again? or as he had been? for how long?) until a crack of moonlight made its way toward the floor... a very clear sign that one must be moving on.
Zithra Melitch in Star Wars: An Empire's End
Jellica in In the Shadow of Zeus
Hey, nice Ard...
So, I hear Lord Stargrave has a couple of new openings in his group? What's the pay like?
Shakis is of average height, and has the lithe and muscular build of a gymnast. His skin is pale, reminiscent of alabaster, his hair an unruly mop of black in contrast to his skin. Shakis' eyes are dark, lined in black-inked tattoos that drop to points from the corner of his eyes, while his lips are painted black. Starting from his lower lip and running over his chin and down his neck to disappear under the black rags he wears as clothing have been tattooed letters and small pictographs the likes of which have not been seen by those outside of his monastery. These tattoos will be found to cover the entirety of his body with the exceptions of his hands and feet, and he will divulge neither their meaning nor how he came to possess the strange markings.
Shakis dons simple black rags as clothing that seem layered and cut to crudely resemble the black feathers of a crow or raven; simple laced sandals adorn his alabaster feet. He has the habit of cocking his head this way and that when observing something, reminiscent of a bird in some ways. It is this quirk, along with his overall appearance that has earned Shakis the nickname of Crow since his arrival in Ydria a few months ago. His most unnerving quality however, is the unnatural and unnerving way in which he speaks; Shakis seems to speak with two voices at once, the first a natural tone, the second a harsh baritone that seems to echo his words. Shakis has found this trait to be quite to his detriment since his arrival, hence his quiet nature.
As the final spearman entered the clearing a few paces behind his fellows, wind-fluttered through black cloth. Shakis’ sandaled-foot landed squarely upon the unsuspecting soldier’s helmed head, crushing him to the ground as Shakis pushed off and landed gracefully in the dense canopy above, opposite his previous perch. The surprised nk’bara turned, their weapons ready as their brother fell; their leader gave a few whispered orders and hand gestures as the soldiers circled, their spears pointing outward in a circle of death. Shakis’ black-painted lips drew into a crude smile, amusement at his foes obvious mistake, and then he stepped from the branch and vanished into shadow.
Surprised alarm rang out amidst the circled warriors as the smoky tendrils drew up from the earth amidst them, coalescing into a form more reminiscent of a bird than a crouched man. The first spear struck, falling through the form and pulling away trails of shadow as it did; Shakis merely cocked his head and smiled as he stared at the frightened man before exploding and driving his knee into the man’s chest, pushing him back. As they both crashed to the hard earth, Shakis rolled to the right as a spear fell into the earth behind him, then struck out catching the side of his attacker’s knee; he knew from the sickening pop and scream of his assailant that the soldier’s joint had been broken and he turned his gaze to another attacker. Rolling back to the left, Shakis pushed himself from the earth to take to his feet, bending back at the waist as another spear barely missed its mark, and he spun into the shaft of the spear to bring himself within reach of his attacker before driving his elbow into the man’s face. The soldier fell back in a spray of blood, falling to the earth unconscious.
Shakis turned quickly, crouching low, the black-rag clothing that hung from his form brushing the earth. Only two remained; one frightened and bewildered spearman and the hunter that stood a behind him. The hunter shoved the spearman forward as Shakis pushed himself into the air, arms outstretched. He hung there for a moment, the cloth falling from his arms like black wings before he fell upon the spearman, driving his knee into the unfortunate man. Shakis crouched upon the unmoving form of his enemy, staring at the hunter only a few paces before him, his head cocked to the left and then the right.
The hunter took a step backward, his eyes moving to the five still forms that lay strewn about the clearing and the creature that crouched upon one of them. “You are nothing but a crow, feeding upon the dead ways of a heretic past!” he shouted as he drew forth his blade.
“Ahh,” the sound that escaped from between Shakis’ black lips caused the man pause and he stopped his advance; the shadar-kai spoke as if two separate creatures inhabited one form, the voices speaking in unison. “It is you that feed upon the dead, though it is not flesh you devour but spirit,” he spoke. “Tell your Masters that the Queen of Letherna does not like competition,” he quipped as an afterthought.
The hunter roared in anger and moved towards his prey, but fell back as a score of black-feathered birds erupted from where Shakis crouched, the wings and incessant caws driving the swordsman back before they fell into shadow. The hunter looked about in a daze, his ears still ringing from the racket of the birds; the crow he sought had vanished with the others it would seem.
But the Raven Queen has many enemies, and thus do her worshippers have many obstacles to overcome. In training to combat these enemies of the Queen, often a specimen would be captured and brought to the monastery for study and training purposes. That is how the Nightwalker came to be there when it chose to reveal its true power. Most of the monks died that night, those that could escape wouldn’t such was the fervor of their devotion to the Queen of Death, and those that could neither battle the beast nor escape were pulled through the shadows and scattered throughout the realms. This is how Shakis came to be in Ydria.
His arrival in the wooded lands surrounding a small village of farmers and laborers would have went unnoticed were it not for a small group hunting in the woods. When Shakis fell from shadow, the hunters fired their bows in fear. Still caught up in the fervor of the battle from which he was only moments before ejected and confused as to his new surroundings, Shakis attacked the hunters before fleeing into the shadowed woods. The hunters, bruised and beaten by the strange creature that appeared from nowhere reported their encounter to agents of the nk’bara, and Shakis has been on the run ever since.
For several months now, Shakis has waged a guerrilla-type campaign of resistance against the nk’bara, as much for his own survival as the thrill of the hunt. He has become something of a local legend among the villagers and hunters of the area, and a pain the backside for the local nk’bara.
I'm not sure about some details of the world, so I present his background before, but you can feel free to mod/edit it as you please. If you want to add in someone with a grudge against him, or an old ally, I've left it open enough for that too. I'd probably take Fighter feat when I get my next feat to multi-class him.
Fyden Amarr
Half-Elf Bard
Raconteur and Vagabond
Sheet
http://4e.orokos.com/sheets/2912
Image
Personality
Consumed with wanderlust, Fyden is always scouting for his next trip. He is fascinated by history, art, and culture, and proficient in combat from necessity. He lacks the mental discipline to make a serious study of magic or other intellectual pursuits.
He delights in pleasure, and easily falls prey to temptation.
Mannerisms and Appearance
Tall and lean, Fyden has a head of moppish brown hair but a meticulously groomed very short beard. He typically dresses in woodland colors, and speaks enthusiastically of his travels. He plays a few instruments, but is most at ease with drums and singing.
Background
When Fyden wanted to leave to seek his own way, he was not discourage--neither by the encampment, nor by his own mother, who had become dedicated to the elven cause. A woman of strong impulses, she'd had Fyden following a brief infatuation with humans and human culture, and had in the last ten years become strongly enamored with the elvish cause. In Fyden, she sees a bridge between two cultures, and hope for the elves.
Fyden left home and wandered from city to city, town to town. For a brief time, he followed a troupe of actors and entertainers.
As he ran out of coin, he joined a mercenary band, fighting on the front lines, and enchanting his comrades with tales of glorious battles around the campfire.
Fyden takes after his mother in many ways--especially in following his impulses. He has left behind his comrades repeatedly, moving on to greener pastures, and easily forgets the people he has met. He maintains "acquaintances" more than friends.
He has written several travel guides and booklets, under false names.
About Me
I'll post the party tonight or tomorrow, and IC will come up tomorrow.
If I don't pick you, I still
Zithra Melitch in Star Wars: An Empire's End
Jellica in In the Shadow of Zeus
You will be posting here for OOC, but for IC, you will be either posting in Residuum Revolution Arcane, or Residuum Revolution Strange.
I decided that there could be two paths, and that there were some natural groupings. I'm really excited about both paths. But they will be very different, I think.
Residuum Revolution Arcane
Bhow- Riishi Antera: Razorclaw Shifter Shaman (Stalker Spirit)
steever- Fyden Amarr: Half-Elf Bard
Dac- Hibiki: Male Human Swordmage
mightyjongyo- Alise Sellyn, Human Wizard
Witch_Hunter_84- Nkbarros Impkith, Tiefling, Scourge Warlock
finkle- Dietrich Uberwauld, Human Witchhunter (Avenger)
Residuum Revolution Strange
Aegof- Ladej Cai
Unsalted- Slip
Lord Pallington- Tordain Silverpact
dresdenphile- Ilesombra Cylcrest
Horsehoe- King Mars
Turanos- Mnemo
Zithra Melitch in Star Wars: An Empire's End
Jellica in In the Shadow of Zeus
Oh boy, Ladej on the same team as a couple of godsworn fanatics; this'll go well.
* I'm assuming we're without our equipment in the cells?
* How many others are in the cell with me? Do I know/recognize any of them?
http://forums.penny-arcade.com/showthread.php?t=139281 for anyone who hasn't found it yet, this is the arcane IC thread.
Looking forward to overthrowing a despot with you all!
Also, the underlined names over the player lists above are also links. Because I'm cool like that. 8-)
Zithra Melitch in Star Wars: An Empire's End
Jellica in In the Shadow of Zeus
I'm going to be posting a map on RR Strange in a couple of hours. Your equipment is locked in a box in a second room of the very small county jail.
Zithra Melitch in Star Wars: An Empire's End
Jellica in In the Shadow of Zeus
Will the IC threads contain any spoilers for the other party that you'd prefer we not know?
I just hadn't seen my comrades yet, wanted to make sure they didn't miss it
It is my job to keep track in OOC which game you are in so feel free to post away in here.
I am super-excited and am working on maps right now. I will be using a googledoc battle map like in susan's PoL campaign so you will have access and can move things around when I can't.
Umm...I can't think of anything else right now. Questions?
Zithra Melitch in Star Wars: An Empire's End
Jellica in In the Shadow of Zeus
Possibly. If it's world knowledge, it will probably go here. Party-specific knowledge will probably go in IC in gray.
Zithra Melitch in Star Wars: An Empire's End
Jellica in In the Shadow of Zeus
Not saying we won't all be in the same place, just maybe not a team up.
Wondertwin Power - Activate.
I will send links to edit the maps as soon as it becomes necessary. Strange should have already gotten a PM for theirs. Currently, I am at work and can't create your tokens or upload the maps to the threads, so you'll have to wait til I get home.
You can edit your position on the map by accessing the googledoc and logging in. Any questions, let me know.
Zithra Melitch in Star Wars: An Empire's End
Jellica in In the Shadow of Zeus
I have a question about the power in spoiler tags below.
What is the range on it? The effect leads me to believe that the power should have a range, even the flavor text seems like it. But it says melee where the range would be. Is it any target i see, then i move them and do damage? Or am I reading this wrong?
Umm...that's bizarre. I'm houseruling it to have a range of 10. How does that sound?
Otherwise its just ridiculous.
Unless the weapon itself has a range?
Zithra Melitch in Star Wars: An Empire's End
Jellica in In the Shadow of Zeus
PSN: ShogunGunshow
Origin: ShogunGunshow
Its range is listed. Its range is Melee.
I agree. I wish I could have brought her in too, but there were not enough places. Keep her around though in case I lose someone.
Zithra Melitch in Star Wars: An Empire's End
Jellica in In the Shadow of Zeus
But how do you teleport it to you then if it's next to you? What we need is the range of the teleport. Horse, only you could figure that out for me.
Zithra Melitch in Star Wars: An Empire's End
Jellica in In the Shadow of Zeus
Like, you are a quarter mile away...
Nope. You're right here, bitches.
Zithra Melitch in Star Wars: An Empire's End
Jellica in In the Shadow of Zeus
You got that, Unsalted? Line of sight.
Zithra Melitch in Star Wars: An Empire's End
Jellica in In the Shadow of Zeus
I hope you're all hip to the jive that Ilesombra is throwing down, because if she pretends to faint and gets gang-arred by guards...
heads will roll.