Homebrew tabletop system- playtesters requested

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

Yes- I'm worried about that. Being too busy IRL to pay much attention to the internet is one thing, being ill- well, yes, get well soon and worry about gaming later, but Vehrec's been out of contact for a while now.

Anyway, straightforward logic and (marginal pass, but good enough) on elvish culture- defensive measures are meant to last, offensive measures are usually meant to be fast, quick acting and quickly dispersing. Something buried in a clay flask on a path into the forest might leave a noxious cloud that lasts for days, something carried in a pouch for running around in human society with is likely to be harmless after seconds. Valette thinks, anyway.

How long it lays someone out for- varies by species and fitness. If the elf was expecting it, as he had every right to be, biorhythm control means he could be active again by- well, now. Or not, as a 'thunk' noise form upstairs indicates the two of Rav's footpads who went up after him took the expedient route and hit him over the head, just to be sure.

They carry his unconscious body down, grumbling- 'I thought elves were supposed to be slender and willowy? How come we get the one who's a fat bastard?' Although the weight of kit has more to do with that.

'Just as well I remembered to bring two doctors with me.' Rav's voice comes from the street outside the door. She has blood- dark elf, iron based (it's efficient) but the other chemistry in there makes it look almost black- trickling down her leg from a cut in her side, and she's holding the other rooftop- runner up, she's unconscious.

[Master_Baerne]

"Quite convenient." Valette smiles thinly. "While I hesitate to act out a cliche, the plot thickens... we've got quite the little conspiracy here. Do you suppose we ought to see what's in this area they're so interested in?" she asks, referring to the one mentioned in the bill of sale.

[Norade]

Though his calling out only made him look foolish he's glad that the construct was left alone and soon Mathilde is back in his cell. He's not as likely to get healing now as he was before, but he thinks he might be able to tough it out. (My injure isn't life threatening if not healed or likely to become life threatening unless hit again is it?) Besides, he might be able to use the thing as a distraction when he tries to escape, especially if it can be as dangerous as she says it is.

However before he can say much back she gets a knock and some bad news, he's told to hide and all he can say is, "Hide, in a damned jail cell? How is that supposed to work?"

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

Baerne; Rav says 'I think we have a coincidence; or more accurately a convergence. Two separate groups, looking for somewhere obscure and unimportant and good to hide in, coming up with the same answer- and yes, whatever's there needs to be inspected. Bring the rest of the papers, take the lady to her father's house, and...in the morning, I think. Not deferment; I don't think tonight's over yet.'


Norade, first the rules bit; a serious wound to a vital location is potentially life threatening if untreated, but once subjected to conventional medicine stabilises, and would heal normally- back to full function in about (a value based on Endurance, Medical skill applied and Resist Injury) thirty days. I'm assuming that much has been done, they wouldn't deny him care, but to remove the wounds and get Safrac fit for this daring escape is going to take well applied magical healing.

'Good point.' she says. 'May as well start rehearsing for midnight. Our unwelcome visitor is an officer of their law, and a being of exceeding narrow- and bloody- mind. Undoubtedly he's come to offer help, and equally likely at a price that amounts to extortion. I'd more willingly accept the produce from a leper colony, at least they would be harbouring less malicious intent, but needs must. Divine magic and disguise, I think- and that crature may indeed be able to help, if you can persuade it. Hm...come with me.'

[Norade]

Safrac isn't exactly thrilled about the prospect of dealing with somebody of such a description, but he'd rather not be so badly wounded if he has to do any escaping. That in mind he follows Dame Mathilde to meet the elf. He doesn't intend to say too much as she seems better at this than he would be.

[Lord Relvenous]

De Andorra smiles at De Novara's description of Mathilde as "a scheming, devious, treacherous, manipulative two- faced bitch".
"You forgot ridiculously attractive." He chuckles. "Thank you for your assistance. As you said, Theresa does seem to have quite the surly outlook. I'll keep an eye out for trouble. Thank you for calling in favors in relation to the healer.

Unless you need my services somewhere, I am going to return to the Temple. I do not want to make my absence too long."

[Master_Baerne]

"Right, then. Let's spend the night here - I'm sure we're inside whoever-it-is's decision loop by now; we ought to be safe enough, and we can approach things with a fresher mind tomorrow. We've all had a rather trying day."

[Kheitain]

Is this little garden counting as being my environment or am i spending 12 pts from my mana reserve a day just to exist?

If that's a yes then the guardian is just going to play doing mundane gardening and rearranging the rocks to suit his tastes untill someone comes.

If that's a no and I'm free to act then whatever the remainder from what I'll regenerate today and what I had to use to make that rock grow before I'll spend tending the garden and growing everything to jungle proportions. If there are any creeping vines he's going to try his best to blanket the walls in them and grow a small protrusion to work as a sunning spot. With luck everything will be in full bloom by the time anyone gets back and he'll be happily hanging above the door ready to show off his work.

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

Friday was a very, very long day. Right;

Norade, Dame Mathilde doesn't guide Safrac to meet the elf, she heads out into the garden. Which is a moderately supportive environment, human gardeners after all, what can you expect?

(Mana regen is something that's never sat happily, it's been changed at least four times. Currently it's per day, the highest mental skill default or the highest active power, whichever is more, plus any relevant conditions from advantages and disadvantages. As long as the gholem has ID, he'll exist; the mana is needed to be active. When (and at some point knowing how fast the stuff usually gets burned through, he will) he runs out of mana, he won't fall apart, he'll just go dormant until he gets time to regenerate. I've often toyed with the thought of requiring something of the sort from magic items, that they would have to have the bearer's mana committed to them to use their abilities, but decided against it on book-keeping grounds.)

'Right, I'll let you two get properly acquainted,' she says to Safrac and the gholem, not reacting visibly to the few wildly growing things the gholem's had time to manage, 'The only reason he'd come to a human garden is to mock, I'll drape a glamour over both of you- a gift of the goddess- that should help him to see only what he wants to see. We might get away with it.

If not, this is the plan; his dislike might be your best protection aginst his kin.' She says to the gholem. 'He's hard- line, few friends as far as I can tell; if he takes against you, some of the rest may be for you. You're covered by our hospitality, so if it comes to violence he's in the wrong, not that he'll necessarily stop at that. I'll have your weapons returned to you and your men standing by,' she adds to Safrac, 'hope it doesn't get that far, prepare against it in case it does.'


She goes to deal with him, which is coincidentally when de Andorra arrives back at the temple. There was one incident along the way (two, if you don't ignore a bluish- violet fireball in the far distance); a man dressed as a wizard, on the corner of Ridge and Carpenter street, shouting about how the great doom was coming, and having bricks and human shit thrown at him. He was shouting about having seen the future, and what stopped him was someone shouting 'Balls, you've just seen the past over again, you dozy old fool' and hitting him in the head with a halfbrick. He collapses unconscious, and has been only somewhat robbed by the time half a dozen men in black cloaks arrive to carry him off.

de Andorra arrives back at the main gate to find two elves standing there; they are glowing faintly, one male in plate armour and a female wearing what looks like scale armour made of leaves- the fact that there are only two of them a sign of arrogance in and of itself.

Being from Zarthan originally, de Andorra knows how elves fight; by proxy if at all possible, ranger, guerilla, light infantry- work when they have to, fast, agile and evasive. There being here like this is a sign of arrogance and ego out of control.

There are a good many spectators, too, of several other faiths; a few of them visibly taking notes. That elvish artist is in the crowd, too, sketching rapidly, hands a blur, and Theresa is talkign to the elves, apparently with deep seriousness. What does de Andorra do?

[Norade]

(Ah, my mistake, sometimes things in text get misread in ways that don't happen around a table.)

Safrac follows her out to the garden where in the short time since he last looked many small plants, even the weeds, have started to grow strong and wild. Looking at this he wonders what having beings like this with a supply wagon would do for an army. You take some small plants along, and when you need food you planet them and let the construct grow them into ready to harvest crops. However, that is the least of his worries as his listens to Dame Mathilde explain things to him and as she casts a glamor spell, a gift of the goddess if he understands right, to cover him and the gholem.

Once she's done and turns to leave the ork turns to the artificial being and says, "I am Sir Safrac Thuruar, Chevalier of Army Group South Vathlin to introduce myself properly; though I am mostly called Safrac. Would you happen to have a name?"

[Kheitain]

She didn't even notice!

The gholem fidgets but holds still, hardly listening to Dame Mathilde as she casts her frunny magic and goes on about someone taking him. "Name? No?" the gholem half answers Safrac and as soon as Mathilde closes the door he turns to continue his gardening. He lopes about the garden moving stones and transplanting where he assumes necessary, the Ork all but forgotten. He obviously didn't do a good enough job so he sets to work double time forming and growing what he can.

[Norade]

The gholem doesn't much seem interested in talking so Safrac watches it work, moving rocks and planets forming the garden from a human made thing back towards something far more wild. He's never had a green thumb himself so he just watches and thinks of how he's going to escape, and how he can get this powerful being to aid him in his cause. So far he is stumped, he doesn't even know enough about what makes the thing work to find common ground.

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

Baerne, Rav says 'Here, where we were last seen and where the happenists left one of their own behind? Are you trying to impress me with your boldness, or are you suffering from so much silly human guilt over helping drop one of them that you think you deserve to be sleeping on the bullseye?

No, not here. Back to her fathers' house, at least that was arranged to be guarded.' Her people seem to agree with her; retrieving all the papers, and heading in that direction- keeping an eye open for anyone else watching or following. It's dark and two of the three moons are up, (which makes life as a werewolf particularly problematic)- moons, what was there about moons?

Something else swims it's way back into your head. A tall tower, by water- not open sea, a fractured coastline, lots of islands, and the moons, something special about the moonlight shifting and changing colour- an eclipse. One passing before the other, the colour of the light changing as you watched it from the roof of the tower, an astronomical portent and a focus- and falling, long tumbling empty falling, did you jump off the roof of the tower? Where was that tower, when was that eclipse? And were you pushed? There were other people with you, a glow from beneath and a smell, herbal, incense. And then dark water, and the flash of memory fades.

By that time, you're nearly there. The place is still guarded, although all the windows and doors are open; there are two bonfires burning, one upwind and one downwind, mostly fuelled by the furniture and anything else (apart from the papers- they were ordered to save those) that the smell of death can't be got out of. Upwind, that and burning pine and sandalwood and some more complicated alchemy, anything sweet smelling. Downwind is the funeral pyre. It's a cold night, they're welcome enough, and keeping passers- by away from the warmth and light has apparently proved too much for the guards; both fires have people around them.

Carlotta takes in the situation and heads for the funeral pyre. What do the rest of you do?

[Lord Relvenous]

De Andorra sees the familiar face of the elvish artist, and approaches him. "Greetings, good sir. I'm glad to see you well. I see that once again we find ourselves observing an interesting situation together. What do you make of it this time? I know Dame Theresa, but I am not familiar with the elves."

[Master_Baerne]

"Cursed visions," thinks Valette to herself. "Always picking the worst possible times to show up."

Collecting herself, Valette follows Carlotta. If she needs a comforting shoulder to cry on, Valette would rather it belong to her - one never knows what interesting information can be gained from the distraught. Should she not, and assuming the house's library hasn't been burned yet, she'll see if there happens to be a list of recent eclipses on hand.

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

Relenous, the artist says 'Good evening, although not necessarily for your people; Ayadrel there has a reputation which it would do your people good- and also myself, if only by fulfilling a certain schadenfreude- for you to be fully aware of. insofar as there is time. You know there are three main currents of thought, three main courses of our politics? They approximate into your thought as conservative, pragmatic and radical- each containing and concealing many, many shades of individual opinion.

The Happenists, our conservative current, cover a range from essentially too lazy to care, through believing that the world is basically a good place and that it shouldn't be meddled with too much in case we spoil it, through restorationism, to the far end of the spectrum that he represents- that all change is for the worse and should be aggressively resisted, stamped out if at all possible.

Considering how little we really have in common, and how individualistic our senses of right and wrong usually are, how much completely shared and codified law do you really think we have? What proportion of the elvish race do you think he is honestly able to speak for?' The artist holds up thumb and forefinger, about a sixteenth of an inch apart. Apparently as the answer to both questions.

'He's making stone soup here; extracting an agreement from your largest active, standing force in the name of all elfkind, that he can then go home with and use as a lever to make the unbacked promises he's about to make come true- and gain power and status for his faction, and for himself personally of course.

Just because he's an ultraconservative doesn't make him incapable of resorting to expediency- and from what little of her shows, and as far as the obvious differences do not forbid, I would say he has found a kindred spirit in that lady paladin.'

On being asked what his grievance is, he says 'Personal matters aside, he and his like- minded ultras are particularly in favour of artistic censorship.'


Baerne, dame Carlotta sits down on the grass in front of the fire and stares into the flames, apparently hypnotised, need to figure out what was going on apparently gone. She'll remember that in a little while, but as Valette is sitting by the fire, she takes the opportunity to look at some of the other people there, most of them strangers to the business entirely, just random passers by; a couple trigger warning bells or recognition.

There's at least one fellow thief, who is basically keeping himself warm while casing the joint; three large men mainly talking among themselves, who occasionally glance at Carlotta and Valette; and two things- one grinning, malevolent elvish face, glimpsed almost directly across the fire, and another patch of faintly-brighter than the surroundings, hint of shadow where there's no-one standing to cast a shadow. what does Valette do?

[Kheitain]

The gholem pauses in its' work, the smell of smoke beginning to filter into the garden. He begins loping around, visibly distraught by the thought of fire before running up to Safrac. "Fire!" he breaths, shifting and looking around nervously, "Very very bad. Why is there fire? I need to see... help?" The gholem tilts his head looking at the Ork, he's never had assistance in his duties before but he's also never seen an Ork not carrying an axe... He looks around the garden, taking in nearby towers and trees and trying to discern from which direction the smell is coming.

[Norade]

Safrac smells the smoke too after the construct points it out, he knows that it's just the city after a siege, people likely burning things for warmth, or maybe another arson against a target of public anger. The gholem wouldn't know this though, he seems to think that he needs to help. The ork thinks that he might stop him, but the artificial being getting out would mean he'd have to give chase.

Using what he's been given the knight says, "Yes, we need to help. Can you get me up that wall so he can go see the fire?"

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

Sorry to disappoint you, Norade, Kheitain; those bonfires are happening where Valette (Baerne) and Randolf (Vehrec- was it just me or was he on the boards recently?) are, at the D'Cearach house, about five hundred yards downwind from where you are.

At least, down the prevailing winds, which curve up from the south and deflect along the spinal mountain range of the peninsula (that changes names every hundred miles or so of it's near thousand mile length), usually blowing south-westerly when they pass Auvaine;
Prevailing isn't invariable, though, Kuquan has some pretty odd weather and geology, and it's possible that tonight the wind is from the south-west rather than blowing to it.

In which case, yes, the scent of smoke and incense does reach you, and it is practical to get up on the wall to look- for one thing, there's rather more vegetation clinging on the walls than there used to be. Going from well managed anglo- zen (an english rose garden with rock features or a japanese garden with flowerbeds, neither nation actually existing as such it's a metaphor anyway) to rainforest could involve burning a lot of mana, it's a big job, Kheitain do you know how much mana you're willing to spend? I'm going to assume 'some', anyway, and that some rapid growing has taken place.

It's not the only fire glowing, there's something violet burning a few miles away to the north (remember the local geography- the temple quarter is on a secondary crest of the hill the older core of the city was begun on, so there are good views), there's scattered cloud, bright moon, and something up there in the sky leaving a scattering of cloud-to-cloud lightning and irregular and momentary white flashes- that is a problem for much, much later.

There's also something else- two elves by the main gate who spot, by one of the lightning flashes, an orc- and who have enough supernatural alertness themselves to realise something extremely strange is going on. They head in Safrac's direction, fast. The plan?

[Kheitain]

It's a little difficult to figure out how much I want to spend without knowing how much I've spent, that was the main point in growing that rock. How much has the rock already cost me? How much, if any have I spent just moving around since being in the city? Have I recovered from the amount of time I had to use to get from the edge of the forest to the garden?
Having an idea as to how "tired" I feel would determine whether or not he's just going to burn through mana. I'd like to have >30 mana remaining if I was starting the game at 40. I'm thinking between 2 and 5 mana on growth depending on my current state.
I'm not going to transform the garden into a rainforest, mores just accelerate the growth and make it look more like the humans never showed up using the vegetation they've already planted. The comparison I made before was referring to size, what these plants would look like if someone custom mixed their potting soil to suit them perfectly.

Do I notice the two figures coming towards us? If so are they obviously hostile or just comeing to investigate?

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

How much each point achieves is largely determined by how powerful the wizard is; the gholem doesn't have "5ap advantage nature powers", he had Creature Powers, Unique, 10- and the rest of the skills, power is 10. Roughly, very roughly, 7-8 is more or less human scale, 4 is rodent, 12 is elephantine, and you can prolong the curve from there.

I'd say it's actually easier to work piece by piece or plant by plant, doing a lot of medium size jobs- they would blur into each other, and it would be possible to accelerate a plant's growth by a hundred days (10x10) for one point fo mana, or to turn a seed into a horse- sized shrub for one, or- etc. There are lots of permutations.

It's not been that long. Depending on the character, mana refreshes between midnight and dawn, and it hasn't even been a full day yet. Assuming that the gholem climbed the wall to see, yes they'll be noticeable, both elvish, both looking distinctly hostile, and ah sod it you need the help.

'I suppose you're the one who needs zapping back to health, then.' It's a human voice, you have no idea how he got there, he's squatting next to Safrac on top of the wall. About 5'10", long, tangly dark hair, deceptively normal, looks like he walks through hedges backwards for the exercise- wearing about five layers of variously green and brown rags, with an assortment of bags and pouches slung about him, and a hawk perched on his left shoulder. He has a staff, but he is clearly a pragmatist, because at some point he has taken the precaution of adding an axe blade to one end.

'And you, remind me to talk to you later, it'll be a pleasant relief for me to tell someone else how weird they are.' he adds to the gholem. 'Hmm.' looking down at the pair of elves bounding their way towards you.

They spot him, snarl, and the leader throws a glittering, rays-and-nimbus, blue-white star of magic at him. I presume Safrac gathers his strength of mind to resist the splash damage at least, but it's not necessary as the mad druid makes a few blurringly-fast finger gestures and throws a ball of mud at it.

The two hit and cancel out, leaving a momentary frozen ball of mud with rays, before it shatters. 'You murdering bastard,' the druid yells down in more-or-less elvish, 'those bacteria were civilised, they had families and they were about to settle down and everything!'

Clearly he's taking the piss. To the gholem he adds 'Don't get in the way of one of those, it's basically existence bleach,' and to Safrac he says, nodding at the elf- the hawk copies his gesture- 'You know, I think he's hostile?'

[Norade]

Getting himself up a wall with a wounded stomach and a suit of plate isn't Safrac's idea of a good time and he arrives at the top well after the gholem does. He hardly has time to assess anything before a too average for comfort man is suddenly beside him. The ork has no idea who this person is, but the prospect of having his wound magicked away is enough to have him liking the situation a lot better than he would have otherwise. Not that his mood when facing down to hostile elves while unarmed would ever even remotely have him in a good mood.

Before he can answer and ask that he be healed soon than later magic happens, first some glowly orb and next a ball of mud to counter it. His opinion of the situation goes from 'fuck me I don't need this shit' to 'somebody is going to die' and only keeps dropping when his new friend start talking about how bacteria just died and then goes on to talk about how bad getting nailed with what boils down to an instant death attack. He's about ready to leap off the wall at them and beat them to death with his gauntlets when he realizes what the fall might do to his gut.

Turning to his new ally he says, "Hit me with your strongest healing magic and point me at them. I don't need to think very much to throw fists around to break some scrawny necks."

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

Minor correction from earlier, not unarmed, one of Mathilde's retinue brought Safrac his weapons- forgot to fill that bit in.

The druid is obviously some kind of hero; he can cast and quip at the same time. 'Strongest, hm...oddest is what you want. Here, hold this.' Fingers on the left hand flickering through runic patterns, he reaches into thin air with his right- it's dark, ish, but Safrac's fairly sure that miniature standing stone the druid hands him wasn't there a second ago.

The next few seconds are utterly bewildering, and Safrac finds himself on the ground outside the wall, with an inexplicable memory of being small and furry. He is, however, in no pain, the muscles in his side seem to work, after a couple of seconds of extreme confusion he remembers where all his limbs are, and best of all, the elves are standing there open jawed and completely astonished, having lost their chance to take a swing at him before he could get himself organised.


The gholem sees this, but in all probability fails to understand it; what the mad druid did was to rotate Safrac through another species entirely. Instead of going from a damaged orc to a healthy orc with life magic, and the normal biological processes disrupted by this and complaining bitterly about it, he went from a damaged orc to something completely other- polymorphing the orcish knight for his jump off the wall into a domestic tomcat- and back to a healthy orc.

Resetting rather than rebuilding, in effect, and sidestepping the normal healing shock more or less entirely- expensive in mana, difficult to manage, but fun in a perverse sort of way. 'Actually,' the thought occurs, 'would you prefer to still have the claws?'

The elves divide, the female in the leaf armour running up the wall- agility and magic- to face the druid and the gholem, the plate armoured one to face Safrac.


Relvenous, if you're reading this, the story you tell now is going to determine whether and how many of the Krylanyans get themselves involved in this fight- and on which side.

[Kheitain]

Wow I think you posted that while I was typing mine, luckily my internet connection dropped me before I managed to reply and it dumped what I had already typed by making me relog. I had planned to leap from the wall and meet our attackers head on. About the magic then, what did I accomplish by spending 5 points in Nature Magic? I'm now a touch confused on what I've built and how this Nature Magic ability intereacts with my Creature Powers. Should I have spent that in a different way to get the desired effect of improving my magical ability? About the amount of mana used, I presume that it cost me 1 point to grow the rock, 1 point to make Safracks handles on the wall and 4 on speeding the growth of the grasses and vines in the garden. Does that sound about right?
I'll try to keep this brief as I've already typed it once and it's now very late.

The gholem watches with curiosity as the Ork struggles up the wall, he had thought the hand holds would have made it easy, even for an Ork. Appearing out of nowhere the strange man initially startles the gholem, but his presence alone has an odd calming effect. The elves he was watching with passing interest move quicker than expected, in the time it takes the gholem to wet his vocal cords to attempt a reply they launch their magical attack. Luckily the odd man with the bird counters with blinding speed and even offers words of warning as the gholem flexes the vines holding stones in place. The gholem readies himself for the charging elf woman and as she crests the top of the wall he leaps at her with a flying elbow hopefully tackling her to the ground in the process.

[Master_Baerne]

Apologies for this taking so long; I've been a bot swamped.

Valette shifts subtly, allowing the hilt of her shortsword to catch the firelight - keeping the sword she found on the elf under wraps; one never knows when a symbol might be recognized - as a reminder to her fireside companions that she wouldn't be particularly enjoyable prey.


Erm, I really don't have anything else I plan on doing tonight; the way I figure it, Valette's probably running on adrenaline and a need to find out what happens rather than any sustainable sort of energy, and probably needs to sleep at some point in hte near future.