Homebrew tabletop system- playtesters requested

[Norade]

Safrac laughs at his steed's antics and quickly calms him before putting him back in his stall. Looking to the gaunt and scared looking family he tosses them a silver penny, a small blow to his own wealth, but something that should see them eat a decent meal even in this ruined city. That done he leaves the stable and starts his walk through the city.

His walk isn't a pleasant one and he knows the sooner he can write his letter and get aid the better. However such thoughts don't slow his stride and he sees the ruins of the temple district and the damaged or destroyed temples. The knight isn't particularly devout himself, but like most he'll say a pray when the situation seems to call for it.

Though people are looking at him and De Andorra, if not openly staring he simply looks for the right temple and once he finds it he leans to De Andorra and says, "I'll head in first, once they're dealing with me you enter and start to play your part. Does that seem a sound plan to you?"

[Lord Relvenous]

"Sounds good enough. I'll take a few minutes out here to get some preliminary information. Who's alive, who's particularly ambitious, and the like."

Suiting actions to words, De Andorra walks into the crowd, looking for information about the situation at the temple.

[Norade]

Leaving his companion Safrac enters the ruined temple and looks for somebody who looks in charge, once he spots such a person he walks over and says, "I am Sir Safrac Thuruar, I am seeking some information and I hear that this is the best place to find what I'm seeking."

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

Two general notes before going on to the plot part, on money and religion; the coinage system in use is still largely that of the Terminal Empire, the black towers, and it is in theory trimetallic but gold is largely money-of-account, seldom if ever seen outside the state or the counties' central treasury.

Adjust for post- disaster conditions, but beforehand most day to day living was done in copper, one copper piece more or less being about the value of a two pound loaf or a gallon of small beer. Small change is usually made by cutting coins up into halves, quarters and eighths, inflationary adjustments made by getting slightly less for your money.

It is just about possible to live on two, two and a half copper pieces a day, and that was just about the starting wage for an unskilled apprentice. Depending on profession, a skilled labourer could be on four or five, a mster creaftsman on twelve to fifteen. Larger and rarer things cost more, obviously, but it's not as if there's any kind of consumer protection agency or manufacturer's recommended price- barter and bargaining skills make a lot of difference to how much something actually costs on the day.

There are twenty-five copper to one silver piece, so one silver is generosity indeed. Twenty silver to a gold, and the only thing that routinely gets costed in gold is land- one gold aut is usually worth about two acres.


The religious side, Safrac, being an orc, might not even be committed to this pantheon unless he has decided to embrace human religion also. The current, Fourteen Gods, are the established faith; there are folk memories of old religions from before the Black Towers, and many and varied they are too- the strongest being the Old Faith, or more plainly druidism. Now, my take on this particular subject is that the worship of nature really needs to be followed by five essential words-the worship of nature, red in tooth and claw. Pretty much every part of it except maybe the rocks is out to get some other part, very few of them are amenable to reason about it, and the working druid's job isn't so much communing with nature as refereeing it's attempts at fratricide. No wonder they get cranky from time to time.

Of course, the elves claim that that is a debased version of their own belief system, but considering that they deconstructed their own old gods to death long ago and esentially worship politics, their ability to be rude about anyone else's faith is limited. Or should be. There are three main and a hunded minor faiths, Happenists, Nurturers and Shapers, being essentially laissez-faire, active support without deformation, and we're in charge, let's do things the way we want. Shapers tend to be the mad scientists- mad botanists and biologists, certainly- of elvish society, and good people to avoid. The elf Valette saw in that vision was probably a Shaper.

There are half a dozen different orcish religions, but the main one in the largest nearby concentration of them has only two deities, which I think are going to have to be renamed to sound less corny, but basically they are aggressor and defender, warrior and wanderer, attack and endurance- killer and survivor, when you get right down to it.

Each of the gods has their own special flavour of magic, but not all the priests are going to possess it and being a warrior who possesses the magic of their god is the definition of a paladin.

Story post to follow.

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

Right now, in fact.

The temple of Valdemiron is roughly a hundred feet in diameter, and the three breaches are straight through the main gatehouse, and two into what look like interior halls. The ring- the crown- is about twenty feet wide, the central fist looks to be an elaborate framework built on the roof of a straightforward three or four level round tower, about forty feet across. The open space between them is full of tents, the lower ground floor of the central tower looks to be full of refugees also, and there are a few people in robes and vestments paddling about, doing what they can. Not all of them are Valdemironi, interestingly.

The first person in authority that Safrac spots is actually one of the temple guard, armed, but unarmoured in anything more than a padded jacket- gambeson, to use the usual term. He's talking to a junior acolyte, and apparently giving orders because the acolyte nods and hurries away. Short, fair hair, about thirty, but he looks slightly detached from reality- wounded and healed clumsily, Safrac's guess.

He looks through the orcish knight before focusing on him, half- reaches for his sword and takes a couple of seconds to add up what he sees, realises Safrac isn't one of them, looks around, says 'I'm Olivier de Monpassant, watch- commander- look, you'd better come over here out of the way before the people see you and panic.'

On being asked why, he says 'Because of them. Many of them were, we were hit by a mixed force of humans and orcs. Unreconstructed, uncivilised orcs. One of them pinned me to the wall with an arrow, and I spent three days after being healed- well,' he stops himself before he can ramble off, 'all the priests are at prayer, they're reconsecrating the central chamber after the death of Archpriest de Vray, the barbarians picked the altar up and beat him to death with it. They're also trying to decide who the next archpriest should be, and I think part of the rite is to see who can call down the most impressive damnation of all orcs.'


de Andorra wanders into the crowd, looking much less conspicuous- there are people huddled around the crater where the temple of the god of war used to be, it's still warm enough to shed some heat, and (Fortune roll- pretty good)- there's a young woman in brightly coloured clothes, could be a jester, apparently mocking the plight of the homeless by doing tricks with food.

Almost anyone would be offended by this, and de Andorra isn't hardened quite enough to laugh at something like that; looking closely to discover how or why she is, he notices that the bread and cheese she's juggling with wasn't there a moment ago. She pulled them out of thin air.

That changes things a little. Catching her eye to talk to her, de Andorra gets the folowing explanation from Eloisa; 'I'm an acolyte of the trickster god; this power was only ever really intended for practical jokes, solid mirages, things like that- comedy. I can't feed people with it, rally, not unless I...turn it into some kind of routine. Making a joke out of it makes it real enough to do some good, I know it's not exactly, it literally is telling jokes at a funeral, but what else is the trickster supposed to do, con them into believing they still have homes?'

[Norade]

"Yes, no need to cause undue panic," says Safrac as he allows the man to lead him aside.

Upon listening to the man's story he understands a little more why he would be seen in a negative light and is more than glad he spared the undersheriff's men; however winning hearts and minds isn't his goal so he asks the watch commander, "What is the best way for me to seek information when the priests would have prejudices about speaking with me? It is of great importance that I find out who is now lawfully in charge of this city."

[Norade]

Ghetto Edit:

The man seems a bit addled, likely by large and less than fully skilled healing. He does seem to be in charge however, and once he focuses the watchmen seems to have good enough sense about him. This fact is only further confirmed by how quickly he suggests speaking in private, some in his state would have simply left them to chat in the open.

"Yes, no need to cause undue panic," says Safrac as he allows the man to lead him aside.

The story told is the usual sort for this ravished city. Forces that should be trusted using unspeakable evils on the people they should be protecting, uncivilized orks rampaging. He wonders what can be done even if a large enough force could catch up to his quarry.

Upon the completion of the man's the knight asks the watch commander, "What is the best way for me to seek information when the priests would have prejudices about speaking with me? It is of great importance that I find out who is now lawfully in charge of this city."

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

'That's a good question, and I wish I knew the answer.' he says. 'Who's in charge, I mean. The sheer violence the Striking Phoenix came in with- only now do I really take stock of what they hit, what they didn't hit, they weren't just a rampaging horde, although I think they liked to look like one.

Maybe this was actually their version of dealing with the problem, of rendering assistance to His Majesty by removing the people who tried to take his kingdom out from under him, but they melted the city chambers, blasted the courts- they deliberately singled out and destroyed most of the people who would be the obvious answers to that question.'

Olivier lets you think about that for a second, then adds 'They think it's so bad we may have to resort to democracy. A kind of council of survivors, the senior available guildsmen, any nobles with their heads still on their shoulders, like that. They probably will be willing to talk to you- although not necesarily politely. That,' gesturing at the Authrani colours, 'makes you too important to ignore.'

[Master_Baerne]

Valette doesn't have much to add to the conversation at the moment - things are far enough outside her comfort zone that she's content to wait and see what else happens.

OOC: Apologies for this taking so long, there's something bizarre going on with my computer. This is posted from my local library... consider this my excuse in advance.

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

Well, yes, I am trying to keep up the momentum, but some crap is just unavoidable, it happens and good luck with getting it sorted.

Unless there are any risks that you want to take in the meantime, the next thing likely to happen is Ravyl and Valette sneaking in over the rooftops of the temple of the god of revenge.

Oh, one thing- Valette's secret; is anything starting to take shape, are any ideas starting to form?

[Master_Baerne]

Erm, risk minimization is a good thing - she'll stay quiet.

As to secrets... let's think. A strange affinity for a painting of the extinction of an influential noble house, and a vision of someone intriguing with an elf. The latter a matter that could be perceived as civic duty, but not to an elf - Human politics, then? As a wild suspicion, I'd predict that Valette has a connection to that house - the Counts of Oremedda, weren't they? - but not a simple one, else the elf's 'karmic disharmonies' wouldn't be an issue. Some sort of inheritance ritual, maybe?

[Norade]

Safrac doesn't much like the sounds of things, but in the absence of any real power a civilian democracy would be better than chaos so he asks, "Would I be able to take down a list of people that would likely form such a council? It isn't the best solution, but until a full account of the dead is done and all wills are read we need leaders that people can get behind. In influx of aid that I'll be requesting should even make such men popular for a time after it starts to arrive."

[Lord Relvenous]

De Andorra shakes his head and sighs. The plight of these people is hard for him to see, and he finds himself slightly annoyed with the seeming callousness of the jester. "Well, I cannot stand in judgement of you. While I think you could find more productive ways to spend your time, I understand the want to contribute in a way that feels familiar. If it gives those around some measure of hope, I suppose you are doing some good." De Andorra begins to turn to go, then stops and looks back at the woman.

"You said that you were an acolyte of the trickster god. This means you have spent much time in this area, correct? I'm curious, do you know much about the priests' hierarchy? Surely, as a jester, you've been exposed to the ins and outs of the temple district. I seek employment for myself and some men, and would like to know who I should contact."

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

I see 'make an enemy' was apparently on de Andorra's list of things to do today...and worse, she sees it too. She's using a combination of normally inappropriate powers to create imaginary objects and actually make them real enough to be eaten and sustain life, and he's snarking at her for that?

'And why should I help someone totally devoid of a sense of humour?' she says, and you just know a fairly nasty practical joke is coming your way- blink, and you're surrounded by weasels. Human size, furry creatures of all kinds in fact- some kind of mask she put over your perceptions- you can still hear, and you can hear laughter. Directed at you.

Try to say something, and it comes out as 'squeak'. Reach for a weapon, all that meets your paw is a handful of fur. Have you actually been transformed? No, they can't do that- at least not most of them. Some kind of mask over your perceptions, that must be it.

'I think he's a bit of a rat,' she says to the surrounding people, and she manages to disguise the direction her voice comes from in your head, you can't track her by sound, 'so he's seeing rats at the moment. He can still hear, but he can't see what's really there- especially not the big, hot pit in the middle. And his body thinks it's a rat, so he's walking a little bit strangely...shall we see if we can get him to do a lap without falling in?'


Olivier says to Safrac, 'That's a tricky one, might as well ask me to predict the future- which might not be a bad move, but I don't think anyone is still alive who's any good at it. Judging by the existing currents of power (damnit, I have to make up a batch of half a dozen names now- I'll come up with them as they come up in person) well, the masons and carters' guilds are definitely going to be in, probably the thaumaturges, the major merchants, physicians, the auctioneers in the farmers' market are likely to speak for the countryside and it's their help we need more than anything else, the ironsmiths and quarrymen. it's who else demands to be included, refuses to do much without being included, that the wild cards are going to come from.'

There's shouting from within. 'I think they've just elected a new archpriest.'

[Norade]

"Thank you for your help..." Safrac starts as he hears the shouts proclaiming there might be a new archpriest, shifting mindsets he asks, "How soon could I expect to see the new archpriest? I know very little of your ceremonies, but from the sounds of things he'll want to be at work in rather short order and I know he would like to be considered for any sort of council this city might form."

[Lord Relvenous]

OOC: Ugh, now I get it. I thought the situation was that she couldn't make it real enough to eat. I didn't realize that she was telling me with "unless I make a routine out of it" that she could make it real. Also, I didn't realize she was actually giving it to people. All you mentioned was the juggling. Well that changes things, but I guess I've already gotten myself into this mess.

Well De Andorra's perceptions might be altered, but he supposes that it's only his that is, meaning that when be talks, he's the only one who hears the squeak. Well it's worth a try. He immediately sits down and attempts to talk to her. He attempts to ignore the sound of his own voice and power through a short comment.

"It seems that we have a slight communication problem, doesn't it? Why don't we sit down and talk about it? I meant no offense, but as you can tell, I am not the most diplomatic of people."

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

de Andorra doesn't have the theoretical understanding of magic to be able to assess what she's doing, and she's tired, frazzled, and getting quite close to the bone- she's running thin on material and getting close to the limits of good taste anyway, so it was an easy mistake to make.

After a few moments, she realises it too. 'I really couldn't face seeing someone else melt, that was a joke too far, I suppose we should better talk about it. Make this look good, act up a bit.'

de Andorra is not a slapstick comedian; she is, at least some of the time, and taking him aside to talk to him turns into an improvised pantomime- well acted on her part, somewhat wooden on his.

'Well, mister rat, what am I going to do with you?' she says, once she has you in the shadow of the temple of the war goddess.


Olivier tells Safrac 'we'd better wait here, I'll have a message sent in...expect power games. Depending on who just won, they might want to see you this second, they might keep you waiting for days to show authority and please the disgruntled.You'll want to find that out, shape how you deal with them.'

He does, a youth from the refugees who can hardly stop his eyes falling out of his head when he looks at Safrac. Norade, if you can think of anything sensible to ask in the intervening time, feel free. A few minutes later, the boy comes back, and (human perception- actually a success) Olivier looks disgusted for a second before controlling his features.

'Martial de Lauloy. Young for a senior cleric, father a deacon of the high temple in Jotunhallr, no less. I...you can judge him from the fact that I think giving you a full description of him and what I think of him would prejudice you against the interests of the temple.'

The boy whispers something else in Olivier's ear. 'He wants to see you now. If what I suspect is about to happen really is, it wasn't my idea.' he says, and leaves Safrac with the boy, who knows the way.

[Norade]

Safrac smiles to the messenger as his eyes bulge wide at the site of him and in the wait he looks around as best he can from his current out of the way position. Luckly the wait isn't very long and the young lad comes back and then Olivier chokes down a look of disgust. Safrac isn't sure what the look is about and the watch commander declines to tell him.

Not pressing further the knight says, "Thank you for the help Olivier, may the new archpriest not be too unpalatable for you."

That said he follows the young messenger to the meeting area and tries to make sure he looks as powerful and important as he can on along the way. His hope in doing this is that he can assert himself in the eyes of the archpriest as well as any that see him striding through. Once he sees the arch bishop, he stops a good pace away and takes a very quick look to size the man up before speaking.

"I am Sir Safrac Thuruar, Knight of Army Group South Vathlin sent to gather information about the tragedy that has occurred here. You are Archpriest Martial de Lauloy I presume?"

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

Happy birthday...

The chamber Safrac is shown into is the central ground level of the tower, the people who were huddling in it have been moved out to the edges, a space has been clered in the middle, and a portable altar set up. In the interests of keeping peace with- or more likely showing dominance over- their neighbours, they invited representatives of the other gods, so it's a fairly mixed, and closely packed, bag of about twenty religious, thirty armed, and maybe a hundred lay acolytes and refugee spectators.

Bad odds if anything kicks off- which the atmosphere in the chamber makes it seem highly likely that it will. de Lauloy strikes Safrac as a young man on the make; well groomed even now, tall, lean, but (if such things as dictionaries existed here and now) you could find his picture used to illustrate "arrogant". He got the nod over older, wiser candidates- a few of whom are there to be seen- it's hard to tell why. Possibly because they want someone else to blame, a disposable catspaw.

He's just full of himself enough to believe that this is his idea, too. 'I am the archpriest of the chieftain of the Fourteen Gods, and their angels and demons arrayed.' He's trying to sound impressive, as if he wields great power. Which is true, but he sounds like a bad actor puffing himself up. Some of his elder colleagues wince. (critical failure on Intimidate.) He realises he's not going down too well, and decides to try harder; and a human proverb drifts into Safrac's head, something about the anger of sheep.

'Have they sent you as a sacrifice, as a living token of atonement for the murders and sacrileges of your colleagues in arms?' His delivery is improving, and some of the other religious representatives there, their eyes bug out. This wasn't in the script.

'Have they sent you to add insult to injury, to proclaim that to them we are cattle, fit to be murdered at a whim? Do they think we have no anger?' Oh, crap. Some of the younger and crazier acolytes and bystanders look willing to back him up- he's talking revolt, and probability is he's going to, in the next five seconds or so, order Safrac taken and tied to that altar.

[Norade]

(Thanks)

The cleric's brash words and pompous delivery seem to be working on a crowd containing many that would love to take some measure of revenge against him. However Safrac is fearful, he knows that one swift strike and the council will be holding another election so he simply places a hand on his mace. Smiling at the younger and smaller man he takes a pace forward and steps in front of the man forcing him from the spotlight with that action.

He isn't as good as the other man speaking in a flowery way, but the ork can say things plainly and he raises his voice so that even the furthest can hear, "Go ahead, listen to this pawn that would play at leadership; try to take your petty revenge on the being that is working to save this city from further woes. However know that doing so will gain you nothing and will cost this city its best chance to have an even leadership in this troubled time. It will mean that the supplies I would have written to my commander for will never arrive. Let the wise among you see that this is true and stop this madness before it can even begin."

[Lord Relvenous]

OOC: Hey, happy belated birthday Norade.

After pitifully trying to act out his part in the impromptu show, De Andorra bows his head to Eloisa. "First I must apologize. I did not understand fully the aid you were providing these people and spoke brashly. I hope that you can accept the apology of a brute such as myself, though I will more than understand if you would rather I walk away and leave you be now that you have set me free from the illusion. if this is not your wish, then I hope that you might consider an answer to the query I posed before I was so fully exposed to my true nature." He smiles at the end of the sentence to indicate that he is joking and does not hold any ill feeling toward Eloisa.

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

In reverse order of doomedness, then;

Eloisa says to de Andorra, 'I know, and I'm sorry- I'm at my wits' end trying to think of useful ways to help people who have been through something like this, with no guarantees that it's over yet. There's no god of tragedy, which is probably just as well...you said you were looking for someone to hire on with? There are plenty of opportunities, depending on how much of a brute you can manage to make yourself be. We-' she nearly breaks down at this point, and narrowly holds herself together.

'We lost two things above all else, no, no, not things, two kinds of people. They attacked first and foremost lords and nobles, but also anyone else who got in their way, anyone who stood against them. They- I find it impossible to imagine the joy they felt at making people cease to be. The happy warrior, how can there be such a thing? They were inhuman. Especially the humans. If you can find a lord alive to serve, they will welcome you with open arms.

The Carters' and Mercers' guilds are looking for fighting men to protect what they hold, and I dare say some of the outlying small towns and villages would pay to be protected against the carters' and mercers' guilds; the thaumaturges would like to hire but everyone is too suspicious of them.

The temples, most of the temple guard were destroyed when they hit us- all would like more strength. I-' she looks very far and distant for a moment, and holds herself together by high effort. de Andorra guesses she lost somebody particular in that.

Someone else walks up to her, and if de Andorra has a libido, it's getting some exercise. The new arrival is a Krylanyan, a follower of Krylanya the Goddess of War, and she's dressed neck to foot in figure- hugging liquid chrome that doesn't really hide anything. Long dark hair, blue eyes. 'Are you all right?' she asks Eloisa, who sniffles back a tear.

'I, yes, it's just...what are you doing here?'

'Walked out.' The Krylanyan says. 'They're going to elect the young hothead after all, the one who wants to separate church and state with the church firmly on top, and if he had a plan other than fill power vacuum, raise and train for divine revolution, he might even have a point. Who are you?' The last bit is directed against de Andorra.


Ah, Safrac. (GM internal monologue; WTF? Doesn't he realise he's digging his own grave with his tongue here? Resist Magic is a good skill but the amount of luck he'll need to survive what's coming isn't a feasible prospect- too many thaumaturges, too many priests with power, too many swords. Okay, this can work. Maybe.)

Dice time; starting with an opposed leadership versus leadership- bloody hell. As a gamer, I am pretty superstitious; sometimes dice just try to tell you something. De Lauloy's attempt to marshal them to get the orc comes up thirteen; a pass, even quite a good one considering how high his skill is- but Safrac gets a natural one. A critical success. All right, that just inserted a major spanner into the plot. (GM internal monologue; bloody dice, what do I breed them and train them for if they're going to throw this kind of curveball...)

De Lauloy notices that he's losing momentum, that no-one's listening all that closely; and he recovers by rolling with it. 'Fellow devotees, I called upoin the power of my god, our lord of gods, to strike this being- and he would not help me to my own immolation, Brute force is the way and the wave of the moment, bloody authority at sword's point. Let us consider what we may do under this tyranny- you may go,' he adds to safrac, 'You will be sent for if required.'

[Norade]

(I wasn't planning on being attacked, I figured that the older warriors would sense my meaning and maybe act to stop the madness. It was bold and overly risky, but I DM too often and don't get to make many bold moves so I figured I'd go for it. This way I showed the guy up in his own building and that leaves me in some position to act with the factions that would see him removed from power. Besides, the dice liked my idea. )

Looking to the archpriest he says, voice so only the intended recipient can hear, "Don't think to do anything rash archpriest, I came with an offer and it's still on the table."

With that he leaves the room and looks around for Olivier to thank him again for his help.

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

What I had expected to happen was something closer to numerical parity, half a dozen priests to zap Safrac (Olivier and his men were basically avoiding this, being round the corner lurking with plausible deniability) and for de Andorra, Valette and Rudolf to end up having to rescue him, thus uniting the party...time for plan B.

Actually, time for XP. That's just about the end of what would be the first session round the table (actually a bit short, but convenient), so- remember how skill points were spent during character creation? Like that, basically.

Attributes can be improved also- costs 3 per for something that is below the racial average, 5 from average up to normal maximum, 7 per for greater than racial maximum. Disadvantages can be bought down and advantages can be bough at a cost that varies by how directly connected they were to what the character did.

Guide for handing out XP- trying not to be too mechanistic about this, but basically 0, 1 or 2 on each of three things; character competence, acting, and general fun, plus any bonuses that may be going for exceptional acts of brilliance or wierdness. I give out XP to anyone who can pronounce any of the elvish NPC's names first time, for instance, it's a round- table running gag by now. Or I would if anyone ever got it right.

Threes and fours are usual, five happens, an end-of-arc climactic adventure could reach ten or twelve.

Rudolf- 4
Valette- 4
Safrac- 5
de Andorra- 4

And shout outs to the two people who haven't started yet, Zixinus and Lusankya- now would be a good moment.

[Norade]

Awesome, Safrac gets extra points for nearly dying! He'll need the extra points because I plan to keep playing him as having a bit of a superiority and invincibility complex that are at least partly tied to his sense of duty and his code of honor.

As for leveling I'm going to try for a point or two of followers to be requested in my letter. If I have points left divide them evenly between Leadership and Human Perception. I'm also going to raise Carousing up to 5 as a correction from character creation.