Bik Britelite

Re: [sigil Campaign] The Ranger's Tale Great story Darren. I swear your character is there just to piss Typhus off. I will have mine up tomorrow I hope. Its mostly done, just need to do a very quick edit to some parts.

Re: HEROes of the Stick Okay, I want to get in on this, but my book is not handy so fill in where its needed. Belkar would definitely have a huge item base. Mental Defense: Undetectable alignment (AP:??) Lead Sheet: OAF, Bulky (- ??); Limited power: only vs paladins with LOS (-??)

Re: Your Favorite Fantasy Weapon? The hell if I know. I just thought that the book said his knives were that thin, hence the sharpness. But it was a LONG time ago when I read that book. I think I was in college back then.

Re: Your Favorite Fantasy Weapon? But was the edge one molecule thick?

Re: Your Favorite Fantasy Weapon?

Re: Friends, 1934 I have to admit, this post has brought a smile to my face. The only contacts I can think that Monica would have would be the guy that was going to give her a restaurant if they could date. She turned him down, but it was funny. Other tidbits that may come in handy, Rachel CANNOT cook. But Joey did like it. "Whats not to like? Jelly-good, Meat-GOOD!" Distinctive feature for Ross could be a small disformity of a broken nose, from the hockey puck that hit him in the face at a game while he was watching.

Side note After reading the opening lines of Tuala Morn on the soon to be released page, I began thinking back to a series of books I read that some of you may wish to check out. The arthurian legends series by Bernard Cornwell. The Winter King, Enemy of God, and Excalibur. Bernard is a historical fiction writer and his style is very light and enjoyable. The ideas of the characters and their lore is what makes the books a joy to read. The idea that magic really isn't magic, but circumstance and superstition. I have a feeling that if you havn't already read these books, everyone here would really enjoy them.

Re: Your Favorite Fantasy Weapon? Well I have to admit I am amazed that I haven't seen any references to the sword from Highlander. It may not be my favorite weapon, but the movie holds a special place in my heart, as I imagine it does in many others. Going along with "un-named" fantasy weapons, the greatsword that Rutger Hower uses in Ladyhawk is also another favorite, but again, its more the movie and all the parts together that make it cool. (Fresian horse, armor, repeating crossbow, Michelle Pfeiffer )

Re: Tall Ship Plans

Re: [CAMPAIGN] KoK Fantasy Hero Heh, trust me on this part, if there were enunciating issues I would drop it like a bad habit. There is no sense spending more time trying to figure out how to say a name. But the surname thing should be relatively easy. Like John said, "de-emphasize" before you let it ruin the game play. Face it, if you are trying to get into character and have a good role-playing session, spending 20 seconds trying to pronounce someones name means you should go all the way and take a psychological disadvantage—stuttering. The game is what is supposed to be fun, if the fluff gets in the way of it, drop it.

Re: [CAMPAIGN] KoK Fantasy Hero Really depends on the caliber of the player and the amount of time you wish to invest in learning the new fluff to make the world come more alive. I know that on the whole things of this nature (the surname emphasis and all) could be a little annoying at first, but for role-play purposes and misjudgement shouldn't affect the character in any way. Besides it would be rather easy to pick up. Our planescape/sigil campaign has an enormous amount of fluff. The 'cant' is the best part, but is rather annoying to learn effectively. Bonebox = head/mouth, jink = coin, berk = jerk, etc. When you eventually learn the fluff though the game seems to come more alive in your mind and makes the time spent much more enjoyable in my opinion. Other than that, keep it up. I love reading Fantasy journals, AliceTheOwl especially.

Re: Your Favorite Fantasy Weapon? Saberhagen, thats a name from my youth. I guess my favorite fantasy weapon would be the one that is in/on my enemy and not in/on me.

Re: Fantasy GM's - question... Well I would have to agree with your GM on this one. The idea for me would be, only if you've seen one could you transform into one. The idea that just because you could transform into anything does not mean you know everything you could transform into. Maybe spend some time and pick up a KS: Local Fauna, or a KS: Exotic Fauna. This would give your character more insight into what is out there for you to become. Not to mention if makes you go out into the world to explore out new species to turn into. Which may or may not be painful.

Re: [Valdorian Age] The IceRaven Clan Love the back story. Can't help but think of a joke running around in my head while I read that all. "How do porcupines mate? Answer: Very carefully." Those stories and backgrounds always have a way of taking off like a rocket. Especially if it is with a character you enjoy playing. I know I have played in many a campaign, with many characters. Only a handful of them I fell in love with and the background just seemed to develop with ease, compared to the "other" characters that just had a history for the sake of having one. Anyways, keep it up, and who knows Steve may add something to a future expansion.

Re: [Valdorian Age]A Short Story Great story Alice! As for the writing and similar authors, I can't give an example. Sort of a "I may not know art, but I know what I like." kind of attitude. Which is sad, since I was an art major. Anyway, great story and keep 'em coming. Sounds like a woman after my favorite Barbarians heart.

Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus I don't know who you're trying to kid, its not Undertaker, its Underhill. (inside joke) Posting at a quarter after one in the morning? Shouldn't you be out driving around making the local police nervous? (another inside joke) Great story! Thanks for adding to the controlled chaos. Didn't remember that it was Steelweaver that got the scroll/teleportation/gate thingy. Hmmmmmm. Guess the rot is finally getting to Typhus after all.

Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus The days in Sigil seem to go by at a dull dragging pace when there are no jobs or potions to brew. Most of this time is spent watching Ogdru use my lab with watchful eyes. Only he is allowed inside to brew his concoctions, and even though I receive half as payment I am still wary of allowing an opium addict into my laboratory. The real advantage is the fact that the potions he brews do in fact work, and as such always manage to sell, especially here in Sigil where fights breakout constantly between ever hateful factions. To this I have been building up a stockpile of the healing potables that Ogdru makes and when enough has been gathered I will flood the market with “enhanced†versions. These versions are laced with a narcotic that is undetectable in taste and still as addictive as the very opium the original brewer needs. This will guarantee that my pots will always sell and eventually they may even allow me to introduce a new poison unto the populace of Sigil in Nehrulls name. One evening while waiting for a contact to hopefully show up at the Black Bird, Christoph and Steelweaver entered into the bar. Steelweaver appeared to be giving Christoph the evil eye and Christoph was either oblivious, which was probable, or uncaring of Steelweavers gaze. As Christoph noticed me and the rest of the usuals he motioned us all to one table. It would appear that Christoph and Steelweaver stumbled upon a plan that involved a heist. The names that they dropped caused my immediate attention. Apparently some of the local rat-men, which are in fact were-rats, were planning on jumping two couriers carrying a special book to Shemeshka. The knowledge that the head of the were-rats wanted books and information is widely known. The fact that he was willing to steal from Shemeshka meant he was stupid, despite having accumulated vast amounts of knowledge. Shemeshka was in fact one of the more powerful individuals in Sigil, the King of the Cross-Trade in Sigil. She is a yugoloth, a type of demon that is for lack of a better word, neutral. They do not involve themselves in the blood wars and if they do, its usually as a mercenary. But Shemeshka was widely known as an information gatherer and one of the people you didn’t get on the bad side of. She is very good at digging up all sorts of information on anything or anyone. She is someone that I needed as a contact and I am fairly certain that my services could be well used. The only information gathered was that the hit would happen here in Sigil in two nights when the couriers appeared through a gate. The real problem was figuring out which gate. There are thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of gates in Sigil. The decision was who did we want to work for, the rats by helping take the book? Or did we want to work for Shemeshka and protect her merchandise. The rats in my decision are not something you could bargain with or work for as they are mistrusted and for good reason. Shemeshka on the other hand is someone that is dealing with a business and for that reason alone would be someone that you could talk too. Christoph said that he would check it out, and since his silver tongue might arrange a meeting with her I let him leave and set up the arrangements. I was wary of allowing Christoph to leave and do such an important task for me but he could be removed if he caused any problems and the distance of him from me was enough that I would be safe if he screwed up somehow. Sometime before anti-peak Christoph returned to the Black Bird. Since he was still alive and didn’t run into the tavern like he was being chased I assumed all went well. He explained for several minutes about how he had wandered the ring of Sigil and had accomplished very little save finding a new tavern to drink at. I should have been mad, angry even. The fact was I allowed him to go on this errand and since he talked with no one except some lonely barkeep, my name was not tarnished. Because of this delay in my meeting with Shemeshka, I stood up as quickly as I could and staggered to the door on my way to the Fortunes Wheel. The walk was excruciating and slow but made with a purpose. If all went well, a new, influential, and very powerful contact would be made. The Fortunes Wheel was in fact a gamblers paradise, all manner of chance and luck were to be had. Many of the local fools gladly gave up their hard earned coin with a smile at the chance to increase their wealth, all the time loosing more coins than they would have won if fortune would smile on them just this once. Shaking my head I approached one of the guards and told them that I wished to see Shemeshka. Since I did not have an appointment, one was made for the following evening and with that done, I started the long and laborious task of walking home. I could have just stayed there and waited for the appointment, but the noise of the fools and their cries of despair at their luck would eventually cause me to start killing them. That was not something I imagine Shemeshka would appreciate and would also probably ruin my chance of making a new contact. The next evening came quickly enough as I poured over some new literature I had acquired on some newly discovered herbs. So once again I started the long and painful march to the Fortunes Wheel. Along the way I stopped off at the Black Bird and informed Marv that I would return when my meeting was done. Since Marv only moved from his stool when the Black Bird closed, I was sure the message would reach Steelweaver, Ogdru, Cadak, and Christoph. Once again I noticed when entering into the Fortunes Wheel the sounds were the same, the faces were different, and the cries of despair once again encouraged my ire. Shutting the sounds out, as that mood is not good for a first meeting with a powerful contact, I let one of the guards know that I was here for my appointment. The guard led me up to Shemeshkas room and upon entering I tossed the scythe to one of the guards posted outside her door. I found it odd that no one asked me for the weapon in the first place. Either they just hadn’t gotten around to asking or more than likely they were not worried about me injuring Shemeshka. That arrogance was noted and if I was going to be taken seriously then I would have to guarantee that my reputation would be well respected here. That, unfortunately, would have to wait for another time. The room itself was a rather over done office, with plush cushions, and fancy gilded objects scattered amongst the room. If it was an attempt at showing off then the attempt failed. Thankfully there was a chair opposite Shemeshkas desk and I greedily sat down relieving my legs of their burden. Shemeshka itself looked sort of like a bipedal dog, she even had a nice shiny coat and I bet her nose was even wet. Shemeshka is an information thief and as such immediately commented on my blessing of Nehrull as a most interesting gift. Sadly the helmet denied her seeing my smile, but my response that Nehrull gives many powerful gifts and mine was but a small one. A slight toothy grin announced the start of the meeting and her question of what information I had that she would be interested in finished all the pleasantries. Deciding to play along with the information thief and the odd code they loved to speak I mentioned that I understood that rare books were arriving in Sigil on the next evening. A small eyebrow arch signaled that the information was correct and even though she knew all about me she didn’t know how I knew. I let her know that information about a book arriving in Sigil was going to be removed from its couriers corpse and that I was willing to guarantee that the book still arrived in her hands. The news of the ambush was also something that she knew nothing of, and this displeased her. Since she was being most hospitable and the chair was extremely comfortable, I decided to continue the game rather than come right out and say who was behind the attack. I did let her know that she knew of the individual, the name was scurrying around in her head. The connection was made and Shemeshka instantly knew that I was willing to kill the were-rats and return her book. Since information is never free, she asked what I wanted in return for the guaranteed delivery of her book. Since the group is easily swayed by gold, money for my men would be sufficient. Again the toothy grin and Shemeshka asked, what about you? To this, I took off my helmet so she could see my eyes when I gave her my answer. Your business, I replied. You have a network that would greatly enhance my research, and my skills would greatly aid her agents. Shemeshka pondered over this but eventually she stood, and very gracefully moved around the table and extended her hand to me saying that I believe we have an understanding then. As I replaced my helmet she asked about her couriers, to which I stated the deal was for the book, dead or alive her couriers meant nothing to me, only the book mattered. Again Shemeshka showed her grin and nodded a understanding. Shemeshka told me that the book would be arriving into Sigil at the arch gardens near the statue of the broken angel. Knowing this location I nodded and slowly stood. Until tomorrow evening then, I told her, nodding. She wished me luck and with that I left her office. Upon closing the door I snatched the scythe from the guard hoping for a response but was sadly not rewarded with one. Smiling I turned and left the Fortunes Wheel for the long journey to the Black Bird. The Black Bird when I arrived was like it was every other night, the majority of its patrons were the group I now employ and few others. Shaking my head at their sad little lives I sat down at the table and told them that we would prepare for combat on the following evening. Any research into damaging were-creatures would be needed so no surprises could hinder the operation. Ogdru said that most were-things could be harmed by silver or silver weapons. Since silver weapons were probably rare, or at the very least expensive the option for this was limited. Deciding that silver could be smelted down to a base component and the flakes could then be added to a paste, we could coat our weapons with a semi-efficient toxin. The effects would not last more than a few swings but should do the trick. Giving Ogdru 30 silver pieces to do the job stunned many of the group. Again they have seen me throw money out and again they are almost mesmerized by its hold over them. Odgru quickly scooped the money up looking about for the fictional thief. Woe be the day I have to start killing patrons at the Black Bird again for taking what is not theirs. Deciding to meet at the Black Bird the next evening to coat the weapons and to discuss our strategy, I left to return home. The next day was a good day for Sigil. There was no rain, for the most part the air was cleaner than normal and because of this more people were out and wandering Sigil. This could cause a problem that the arch gardens is a popular spot for the denizens of Sigil to wander through. With the weather being as it was, there was more likely to find a crowd in the gardens, making the task that much harder to find the ambushers. As planned we coated our weapons, and to Ogdru’s best estimation, we would have two maybe three hits before the coating was gone. Christoph had scrounged up two dustmen cloaks with the idea that one of Ogdru’s zombies, of which he now had four, would be lying dead in the garden. Christoph and Ogdru would wear the cloaks, and with a small pull cart containing the other zombies they would attempt to blend into the background noise of the Sigilians. An interesting idea but one that would require a bit of good luck on the timing, but if it made Christoph feel important and useful, I wouldn’t say anything. Christoph did ask to borrow some gold as he wanted to help Steelweaver purchase a silvered sword. Since this is a habit that I do not want to become commonplace, I made Christoph sign a contract that paid me back more gold than what I loaned as payment. The fool agreed and as such, placed his life in Steelweavers hands. We left the Black Bird and made the relatively long trek to the arch gardens several hours before anti-peak. Marv decided to position himself above the large archway directly above the small alcove containing the broken angel statue. I found a nice bench to sit on, one that afforded me with a good view of the alcove. Steelweaver decided to “protect†Christoph and as such was walking with them towards their wayward zombie actor. The park itself was busy, the weather drawing more out into the park than I had hoped for. Trying to watch them all was difficult enough so I decided to limit my watching to just the gate itself. I would know who was the ambusher when the couriers were being attacked. Just after the final bell tolled to signal anti-peak, the alcove ring began to shimmer and the shape of the angel seemed to distort like a bubble in water. Pushing its way through the gate stood a tall creature covered in large metallic looking spikes that seemed to lay flat against its body like hair. Once through it scanned left and right and deciding that it was safe moved forward. A second later another bubble and a cloaked individual followed the first creature. The shimmer faded and the second individual walked in step behind the creature as they moved through the many arches in the park. The cloaked individual looked at me and when it realized that I was in fact watching him, I nodded and stood. Moving down the path towards where the couriers were heading the ambush happened. Christoph had seen a dwarf activate a self made gate and were-rats poured out. Unfortunately the attention of the couriers was drawn not to the rats, but instead to Christoph who was running towards them with his sword out, yelling “Ambush!†Thankfully the couriers were quick to react and managed to deflect most of the blows that came at them from the rats. Steelweaver and Christoph managed to make it to the couriers before the rest of us and Steelweaver laid into them with a silver sword he purchased on the way to the gardens. The sword coupled with Steelweavers skill made short work of the were-rats. The silver did indeed affect them, and Steelweaver made the most of it by shoving his sword into their heads or just plain cutting the head from the neck. Sadly my luck at the martial combat was woefully nonexistent and I managed to only wound one of the creatures. The coated weapons did in fact harm them as well as Steelweavers sword, but none of us could match his skill in dealing death that day. When it was all done, Christoph found the parchment the dwarf used to open the gate with and folded the scroll up to close the gate. With the fight over, the couriers seemed to be fine, a small cut on the cloaked individual was the only real damage seen. When we told them that Shemeshka had sent us to deal with the ambush the tall creature, Ebon, as it was named seemed to relax. In fact Ebon was a woman and the metallic hairs were in fact sharp blades that she could raise like a porcupine from my original plane. The hooded individual called himself Niren and was in fact an assassin. The thought that an assassin was carrying the book made me wonder if he in fact retrieved the book, instead of just ferrying it around the planes. With the introductions over, we proceeded to the Fortunes Wheel to discover what fortune Shemeshka would gift us with.

Okay, the GM has been bugging me to post this on the forums since I wrote them. Well, I have to or I die, at least thats what I think will happen if I don't. Anyway, I don't claim to be a writer, in fact I know I suck but hey, at least I'm trying, right? Oh, and somewhere in this forum is a post of my history. (Too lazy to find the link, but its under my name.) EDIT- Mordean added the post below, apparently the link went past page 3 and was zapped! Cast: Typhus: Me (Follower of Nehrull) FYI - We are trying an evil campaign this time. Ogdru: Ben - Necromancer and Alchemist Cadak: Darren - Wizard dealing with Clairsentience type powers Marv: John - Ogre fighter Christoph Undertaker - Lex (Its really Underhill) Aasimar blooded human looking for a demon Steelweaver - Taylor (Lex's 14 year old son) Human fighter type, uses dual short swords Background: Sigil, the crossroads of the planes. A sorry looking place if there ever was one. My first impression of the realm has not changed much since arriving here some 15 years ago. Although that figure could be off, as time does not work the same on each plane of existence. I can spend a day on one plane and only have been gone fifteen minutes here. But since I move at a certain pace, my best guess has my time at being 15 or so years. At first glance the city seems to have been constructed by drunken or mad architects, with buildings leaning to far in any one direction, certain to collapse yet somehow stay upright, mostly. Everywhere in this mad mans plane is a vine with small blade tipped shaped leaves, aptly named razor vine. The edge of the leaf is rather sharp and will easily cut exposed flesh. It would also appear that gate travel is not limited to sentient creatures, as dirt and grime from all regions and planes blows on the stale wind. There is even a foundry here that blows great pillars of ash high into the air, eventually this causes a warm, stinging rain to fall driving many of its inhabitants indoors. Like all cities, there are the poor and there are the rich. The poor wallowing in this planar feces, and the rich being carried above it all. So for 15 years, I carved my little niche into what has now become my home. I purchased a small comfortable hovel and frequent a tavern that is close by for contacts. Gathering contacts took a while, and it did involve removing some of the competition, but as my with previous realm my name became well known. Those that spoke my name too often or in a manner that would displease me were removed with poisons made from my own hands. In time, those that would seek me out to purchase my poisons knew to leave when business was completed. Now residing in Sigil, there was greater access to all new herbs, creatures and extracts that would enhance and alter existing poisons. Some of these items exist only on particular planes and for that I needed couriers that would do the traveling for me, especially if these realms were unsafe. Many couriers died before I became gifted with the ones I work with now. These couriers charge more, but reliability is worth every copper. Journal: Then one of my more “trusted†couriers became late, very late. After three days it was time to do something about retrieving my deposit and my product. Whether the hand that I ripped it from was dead or alive meant nothing. I hate to be inconvenienced, and those that cause me irritation are better left dead. I knew that the herb collected came from only one place and that would mean going to Ribcage, a gate town for devils. Since I knew about the Blood war and had no desire to be swept up in it, I decided to find some “help.†The term is used loosely, because although I do pay well for good work, I had no concern for their well being other than helping me to retrieve my product. So I decided that the tavern I frequented would be a good place to begin my search for the “help.†The Black Bird Tavern is a fairly new tavern, in that it has a new owner. It would appear that the previous owner had a small problem . . . breathing. The Black Bird is a standard tavern in every respect to all taverns except the clientèle is not shy about showing its horns to others. There are the quiet little dark corners for the nefarious to feel safe, the bright open spots in the middle of the room that let everyone know you are there. Several tieflings had to die before I was given due respect in this place and as such I knew most of the individuals that frequented the establishment. My hopes were rewarded when I saw the individuals I sought out. The biggest among them, Marv as he liked to be called, is an ogre. One that has a reputation as having fought in the Blood wars. If this was true, and unlikely as he was still alive, his axe and size would help my quest. Both in the bashing department and because I would look less a threat and thus he would most likely be the target of any would be attacker. The others seated with Marv, as they always were, was Ogdru, Cadak and his faithful hound, and Christoph. Ogdru is a know opium addict and thus easily controlled with his addiction. He is also a wizard or necromancer of some sort. His skills in the arcane arts would more than likely be needed. Cadak is known around the tavern as a seer and he is never without his faithful bodyguard Leon, a human meat shield. The ability to read objects and their history may allow me to find my courier easier and as such was also needed. The only one that I had any trepidation in taking was Christoph, a rather curious human. He is always the one talking when at the table, and it was Christoph that introduced himself to me the first day he arrived at the Black Bird. His obvious talent at not shutting up may help me bribe my way past some of the local militia that patrols Ribcage. Just as I was about to move forward to ask for their assistance Christoph noticed a young man sitting in the back of the Black Bird looking rather nervous. Guessing that he was new to Sigil and rather frightened of it all, he offered to buy him a bowl of what the Black Bird calls soup. His wary agreement and subsequent devouring of the gruel confirmed he was new to Sigil and probably arrived here days ago through some random gate. He was dressed like many people in the planes dress, the only distinguishing characteristic was the fact he wore two swords on his belt and those weapons seemed to be an extension of him, rather than some clumsy tool to hack people apart with. Uninvited I walked over to their table and sat down. Christoph was the first to say anything and that was a simple, “Yes?†Amazing how they can shut up at the oddest of times. I told them that I was looking for some assistance in recovering some lost merchandise. Instead of asking how much, they asked what the merchandise was. This told me they were smart enough to rate their services based on what the merchandise was that needed to be recovered and they weren’t greedy by asking how much. I informed them that what I needed was a rare herb that was usually brought to me by a reliable courier. Since he was late, I must assume that he was dead, because he knows I do not abide tardiness. So my offer to them was, if you helped me recover the herbs, then I would pay you a percentage of the job when its finished. They agreed, which told me that they were in fact, not as bright as I had originally thought. We never agreed on a percentage and they never asked when the job would be done. Luckily for them the job would be done as soon as I got the herbs. As we stood to leave, the young man who introduced himself as Steelweaver, asked if he could go along with us as he needed some coin. Since Marv was the only one that looked capable in a fight besides me, I agreed if the others agreed. Since Christoph seemed to speak for the table he also agreed and so we left the Black Bird for the trek across the Hive, Lower Ward and eventually ending up near the Foundry. The gate we needed to find was known to both me and Cadak, and as such we knew to bring along enough fragments of bone so that everyone had a key to activate the gate and pass through to Ribcage. The gate itself was a simple stone archway in the middle of an alley that had an iron gate. One of the gates was rusted shut, the other was open just wide enough for someone of Marv’s size to squeeze through. Cadak touched the stone around the gate and was able to see back in time to when my courier would have gone through to pick up the herb, but it never showed him returning through the gate. Cadak channeled the vision into a crystal ball he kept so that we all could view the events of the gate. Admittedly his ability to see in the past is extremely useful. If it was known that someone was doing this, false leads could be laid I imagine, but according to Cadak he can read surface thoughts of those he sees in the past and this would make that difficult. I will have to pocket that information for later use as I am wary of such power in the hands of man that would work with the likes of me. Deciding that my courier was probably still on Ba’ator we used small bone fragments to activate the gate and passed through to Ribcage. Ribcage itself is a very large departure from Sigil. The air was cleaner, yet a constant drab grey in color. There is a dark time here and I imagine being outside the confines of the city proper would make for an interesting evening, one that I had no desire to experience. While we looked around at the surroundings, Cadak began looking through the past from this side of the gate. After a time he noted that my courier had in fact not come back through. So using Cadak’s abilities we were able to backtrack his path onto a road that led out of the city. Along the way we discovered what had happened to him, the same thing that happens to travelers on this road that appear to carry any goods. It would appear that either the Blood war is beginning to take its toll on the purse strings of the devils, or someone is not only greedy but arrogant. To attempt to harass trade traffic so near a major thoroughfare on this plane is risky, unless you are one of the devils in power. An interesting dilemma for me now, open confrontation with an unknown power is one of the quicker ways to meeting your maker. The answer was still the same, they had stole from me, and as such, I was the unknown power to them. I wanted my goods back and I was willing to kill to get it. The question became, how to flush out our would be thieves so that I could retrieve my goods. The decision was to gather what appeared to be goods in a cart and head out on the road. For this we had Marv put his muscles to use and pull a cart carrying a few empty crates and some sacks of feed. About a mile outside of Ribcage they appeared. There was three well armored individuals flanked on either side by two planar beastmen types. They announced themselves as the Outlands Cabal, and that a toll was to be paid. If the toll was not paid for in cash, then goods would be taken in its place. For the first time that day, I smiled. I had walked farther that day than I could care to remember, I was tired, exhausted, and just plain angry, but I was finally able to put a face to the irritation. Stepping forward I told the leader that goods that were not his to take had been taken from my courier. Goods taken from my courier was goods taken from me and that I wanted them back. The answer surprised me because it was to business like. Formal protests could be made and with the protest payment would release the goods. The absolute shock of the statement drove me into a such a furious rage that I didn’t care what happened next, so I told Marv to start killing and proceeded towards the leader while reciting my prayer to Nehrull. For what seemed like forever this planar man, and his two henchmen and I fought to a standstill while my men dispatched the other four. During the battle a wizard that had remained hidden began a duel with Ogdru, Cadak and his meat puppet. When they realized that there was no hope of winning, the leader and those left standing teleported away. The wounds that I had suffered were grievous but superficial as Nehrull allows the cuts to happen, to reshape me into his wishes. Nehrull also allowed them to reheal in a short amount of time. But I did become extremely weak for a few minutes while my body repaired itself. During this time Cadak had removed the head of one of the beastmen and was conversing with its soul before the final departure to whatever hell it belonged in. Ogdru managed to raise one of the foul creatures to use as his own Leon, but at half the cost, since it would never need to eat, sleep or complain about pay. After a few minutes Cadak gave me the name of my combatant, the leader was called Lothar, and was the lapdog to someone named Gr’Nash. Early suspicions were correct as Gr’Nash was in fact the guard captain of the west barracks in Ribcage. Corruption is most foul when money is at the root. Now we had to return to Ribcage and find where the goods were being kept, break in and snatch them back up. Suddenly Christoph was important again, as his sweet words would be needed to pry the information from the heads of the local guards patrols. For a few hours while the rest of us waited in a local tavern, Steelweaver and Christoph went looking for possible hideouts. As it turns out, Marv is easily controllable as long as he has liquor to sate his growing thirst. Steelweaver also happens to be rather good at climbing and taking things that do not belong to him, a good scapegoat he may yet make. When Steelweaver and Christoph returned the news was grim. All the barracks are near warehouses, and the loot could be in any of them, or worse yet scattered amongst all of them. To this dilemma Ogdru had a solution, his newly made zombie could take them to where they kept the loot. The limitation to this is that the zombie is rather dim-witted in its new state and may easily get lost or unable to find the location altogether. Since time was a factor, I was willing to try it anyway. So our group followed after the new zombie, and thankfully it was rather slow at walking and making the trek much easier for me. Keeping up with Marv could be a problem, the others were difficult enough but for once, this trek was made at my pace. The creature took us to a warehouse not to far from the main street leading from the gate and stopped outside. Searching for traps and with Steelweaver climbing to the roof acting as a lookout we broke in. The trap unfortunately was a giant eye that watched who came into the warehouse. The eye was similar to one I saw right before we were accosted on the road outside of ribcage by this cabal. Knowing that our presence was being reported I stepped into the warehouse, looked directly at the eye and then began searching for my lost satchel with the herb in it. Christoph and Marv helped in that task, while Ogdru retrieved his wayward zombie, and Cadak merely watched from outside the warehouse, afraid of being seen. Several frantic searches by me turned up nothing but some scrolls which I discarded. Marv and Christoph pocketed a few things and as Steelweaver yelled that guards were coming, Christoph found the satchel. Now that I had what I wanted the rest of the group meant nothing to me. Grabbing the satchel from Christoph’s hands I yelled for everyone to run. Marv, the obedient little soldier that he is, did. Easily making the run to the gate before many of us made it to the main street. I stopped in front of the eye, holding the satchel out so that it could see what I had taken and told who ever was listening that I took back what was not theirs and to never irritate me again. With that said, I turned and head out the door. Many people, creatures and what not were moving about the street and made the distance to the gate longer than it should, so with Nehrull’s blessing spoken on the winds, I shoved my way through the crowd with ease. Some of the guards came close to catching a few of us, but the confusion of so many people in the street, coupled with our group being so spread apart made catching any one of us impossible. Even the zombie made it to the gate with relative ease. With the herbs now in my possession I left the group at the gate and headed home to begin the finalization of the poison which was almost due for delivery. For many more hours I labored over the poison and the red striped bariar who purchased the poison was very pleased at its completion. Three days after returning from Ribcage I went to the Black Bird Tavern to pay the members of the group as I had promised. The two gold I gave them gave them all pause. I doubt any of them save Cadak and Ogdru were even smart enough to realize how much I was paid, if I was giving them two gold a piece. Even Ogdru probably couldn’t figure that out as his addiction has probably destroyed much of his intelligence. Steelweaver was the most impressed as I doubt he had ever seen that much money at once. But with that payment, I learned all I needed to know, as long as I provided them with gold they would jump when I told them to jump and jump where I told them to jump.

Okay, first off let me say this. Call it a disclaimer if you wish. When it comes to writing, I suck. I sucked in high school (many, many years ago), I sucked in college (also many years ago). I don't pretend to be some literary genius. There are run-on sentences, bad punctuation, etc. So read at your own risk. That being said, a little background. A group of us have been playing Hero for as long as I can remember, and have played many systems as I am sure you have as well. One of our favorite settings has been planescape and basing ourselves in Sigil. I'll let you discover what you can about it, I imagine there would be some copyright law infingement if I posted anything. Last night was our first night playing and I hope to bring you a journal of what has happened each week we play. What will follow in this post is my characters background. Criticism is accepted (although I hope I don't get too much) and comments also will be welcomed. Galeel Shire, the jewel of the Telphan empire was a trade hub that held 20,000 souls. Its gleaming stone walls towered 25 feet into the air defending its occupants from any army that wished to cripple the Telphan trade. Galeel Shire had a standing army of 2,000 well trained men, and a militia that raised the total strength of the army to well over 8,000 men. For more than 300 years the town stood as solid as the stone walls that protected it. Until Cyrus Kreele came to town. Cyrus Kreele was a worshipper of Nehrull, and a devout one at that. All his time was spent perfecting poisons, combining anything and everything to make all manners of vile potables. For 40 years Cyrus perfected his craft, his name became synonymous with death itself. It was at this time that Cyrus decided to please his god with the ultimate ritual in Nehrulls name, and with it a place by his side for all immortality. Cyrus worked with maniacal precision and focus, the drive for his ascension fueling every waking moment. For five years Cyrus brewed concoction after concoction, and when enough had been made, Cyrus made good his plan. One early summer day before the heat of the sun baked the inhabitants of Galeel Shire a message was sent to the capital talking of a terrible plague that had befallen the town. The message claimed that hundreds were dying with each passing night and the rotting bodies and corpses were filling the streets causing the plague to spread faster. More information eluded to a lack of direction from its ruling family and military. This lack of communication was causing small riots in the streets and whole sections of the great city were burning unchecked. The journey would take 3 days for the message to arrive in the Lord Regents hands and with this time, Cyrus began the systematic assassination of the ruling family. Foods and water were poisoned, the well in the castle was poisoned as well. Bottles of wine were coated with a contact poison to give the illusion that the very wine itself was poisoned. Livestock and their feed were not safe either. Within the 3 days most of the royal family of Galeel Shire was either dead or dying, no doctor was able to save them, no spell cured them. Fearing mass panic at the loss of the royal family, the captain of the guard took the reins of governing until word could be sent to the Lord Regent. At the very time that the Lord Regent was assembling his armies to enclose and surround Galeel Shire to prevent the plague from spreading, Cyrus began poisoning the food stores of the enlisted men. Cyrus made careful plans to keep the Captain alive until it was time for his blessing from Nehrull. One week after the message had been sent, the Lord Regents armies was approaching the walls of Galeel Shire, with orders to kill anyone from the Shire and to burn the bodies. All livestock was to be killed and burned, with all outlining crops and farms razed. It was at this time that the poisons were released into the towns wells and grain stores. The panic of the general populace began soon after the army of the Lord Regent set up. Cyrus set a few fires in the poorer sections of town and these quickly spread outwards. Any towns person that tried to escape Galeel Shire was cut down and quickly burned by the surrounding army. This is also when the Captains usefulness had run out and was removed by Cyrus personally. For three weeks the poisons took hold and killed off the populace, the bodies that littered the streets eventually caused a plague to arise and Cyrus watched it all unfold from the very balcony of the royal families keep. When the plague had finally killed the last of Galeel Shire’s populace did Cyrus begin to feel the effects of the plague. His skin began to rot away, his breath became labored, even clumps of his own hair began to fall out. With the final soul in this now dead city soon to be taken, Cyrus made his pledge aloud to Nehrull. “All that I have done here is for you lord Nehrull, master of death, hater of life. With this sacrifice I ask for your blessings and to be given a place at your side where I may do your bidding until the end of time.†Soon after the proclamation Cyrus died, and Typhus was born. For two days, Cyrus’ body laid on the balcony decaying in the heat of the summer before Typhus willed his eyes open. When he sat up, he realized that the plague no longer ravaged his body, but the damage was done and he was soon going to be dead. Disoriented, Typhus willed his body to stand, only to realize that crawling was all he was capable of. When Typhus rolled over, his eyes came upon a suit of armor laid out on the floor behind him. A whisper on the wind said, “Wear the armor of Nehrull, and with it you will be immortal. Pick up the scythe, and with it do my bidding.†Typhus did as his god demanded and donned the armor. When the last piece of armor was equipped the feeling of death overtaking him left. His vision cleared, no longer blurry from the exertion of putting on the heavy plate armor. The dull green armor was extremely heavy and cumbersome for Typhus, but with the removal of any piece the feelings of death returned. A dark cloud seemed to move within the armor, pulsing as if the armor itself had a heart beat. When Typhus grabbed up the scythe he found it to be lighter than expected. The scythe’s haft made of a strange dark wood with faces in pain etched into its bark. Pleased at his success, Typhus grabbed one trophy from all that remained of Galeel Shire, a stein from its lord. With this he traveled through the town marveling at the destruction wrought by his own hand. The walls that were so confidently built to keep enemies out, kept the people in and allowed the plague to fester. A very fitting deed for his god, Typhus thought and so he left to open the gates of the city and release the plague onto the army still camped outside. But as Typhus moved through the wicket in the gate house door, a flash of brilliant magic erupted from the doors edges and Typhus found himself stepping into a new world.

Re: THRILLING HERO TALES — A Campaign Chronicle /Sigh Great post Steve, I can only wish that I was able to play in it as well. Only been in one Pulp game and I loved it. It has a certain style and feel that is so welcome that you feel more at home in that environment than any other. Maybe its the age of the average player, having been weened on the Indiana Jones teet. Who really knows? But keep up the posts I love reading this stuff. Might even inspire me to post my journal in the Fantasy Hero section for an upcoming campaign there. Two thumbs up!!

Re: How to build a Scythe for a weapon? Well for all you old timers out there the reason for the post isn't so much the realistic but more the fantastic. Our group will be running a Sigil game in the near future. We have run many campaigns using this setting as Sigil will allow the creative aspect of Hero to flesh out very interesting character concepts other than the D&D world will allow for sigil. The concept that we are working on is a follower of Nehrull (sp?). Similar to Games Workshops Nurgle in some regards. Basically a god that is a hater of life, etc. In case you havn't already figured it out, we are playing bad guys this time. All the imagery associated with Nehrull has him using a Scythe. Hence the character who is a follower of Nehrull was going to use one. We are not expecting a "uber" weapon by any means, but we followed a pole arm aspect to the weapon as a guide. Yes it would be unwieldly, yes its not the best weapon for damage, but the idea is more for "fluff" reasons than for reality reasons. Too many of the posts are pushing the "it has to be real" when it doesn't really have to. Hence the fantastic statement. In most ways then I can accept that it would have a lower damage output, 1d6+1 or 1-1/2d6 with a -2 OCV. Even adding a minus to the DCV because its unweildly. Thanks for the posts and help, this should get the ball rolling for that then.