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Author Topic: Broken Verge setting thread  (Read 13987 times)
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« Reply #30 on: May 29, 2009, 07:24:01 PM »

Just a couple questions.

How are Gargoyle eyes arranged around their heads?

Secondly, who started creating Bred Gargoyles? Was it the Gargoyles themselves? or some outside influence?
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« Reply #31 on: May 29, 2009, 09:12:17 PM »

For Pures the eyes are arrange symmetrically on the front and side of their head. Somewhat like a spiders eyes. On the Bred, the eyes are randomly arranged on the head, with some opening up on the top of the scalp,  or on the back of the head. Most are still somewhere in the front though, allowing them to retain a somewhat human appareance if they seal the other eyes shut.
And i thought it was pretty obvious they did it themselves? They are pretty intelligent, especially since they have control of their entire consciousness and most of their subconsciousness. They have places to breed in some of the ghosttowns or ancient ruins.    
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« Reply #32 on: June 04, 2009, 05:25:31 PM »

So I also am interested in the gargoyles, especially as you bothered to go into their intrinsic psychology and personality underpinnings.

Is magic something they use as well?  They seem well suited to it's uses.

DO they have a differnt take on religion?  I would imagine some level of a faith-based repsonse to their evolutionary bias.
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« Reply #33 on: June 06, 2009, 05:22:47 AM »

Sorry i didn't answer immediately, but needed some time to think.
Magic works a bit differently in my setting, so no, they wouldn't typically use it. They can't afford echo rods or the training and most of the inborn gifts like empathy and marutism are solely available to humans. They do excel at the preternatural mental meta-disciplines like Tychoestimology (calculating probabilities in combat) and Obliviation (Hiding information in the subconscious to increase memory). Actually, the last discipline pretty much comes naturally to them as they have complete control of their memory. I also had a thought about some of them becoming gland mages (WIP name); since they have perfect control of their glands, hormones and the like they could consciously pump their systems full of adrenaline in combat to increase their power. I have to think a bit about the actual limitations of their body control though before i'll make any final decisions.

Hmm, as to the religion, i actually imagine they would be rather atheistic. Of course, they would know of their old gods, but either they would claim them to be simple myths or believe that they had forsaken them. Their control freak trait combined with their scientific knowledge means that they are probably extremely pragmatic as well as having difficulty believing something else controls them.  
Many might adapt human gods in their further attempts at masquerade.
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« Reply #34 on: June 10, 2009, 10:03:36 AM »

I have tried to rewrite my introduction and themes to make it more interesting and eye catching:


The question is: did it work? I honestly think this is some of the best i have written in a while, and not nearly as stale as the previous. I hope you agree.
it seems more evocative as well, giving a better mental image of the setting. I might add a bit more to it, but i was in a hurry near the end of the writing process so i wanted to get it up before i had to leave smile
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« Reply #35 on: June 11, 2009, 01:02:49 PM »

There is less indication in the new version that Nature is any different from what we experience on Earth; the old Nature was painted as a sentient force.  Otherwise, it looks like a solid improvement on the original.
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« Reply #36 on: June 11, 2009, 01:51:50 PM »

I'm having a lot of problems with the second and third lines.  There are some nice elements used, but the order and use does not work for me.
I like the uncertainty.
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Old, evil, twisted, damaged, and afflicted.  Orbis non sufficit.Thread Murderer Extraordinaire, and supposedly pragmatic...\"That is my interpretation. That the same rules designed to reduce the role of the GM and to empower the player also destroyed the autonomy to create a consistent setting. And more importantly, these rules reduce the Roleplaying component of what is supposed to be a \'Fantasy Roleplaying game\' to something else\"-Vreeg

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« Reply #37 on: June 11, 2009, 05:31:16 PM »

The order of the headings?
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« Reply #38 on: June 11, 2009, 06:50:02 PM »

no.  the second and third line of the openning para.
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Steel Island Online gaming thread
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« Reply #39 on: June 11, 2009, 06:58:48 PM »

ah, thought you were making two separate points. I'll try and fix it.
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« Reply #40 on: June 11, 2009, 07:05:31 PM »

"The World was once a pristine, beautiful and complete machine; Predictable and harmonous. But years pass, history plays cruel tricks, and fate, coincidence, and civilized stupidity together have slowly been breaking it apart and remaking it. It is now but a motley amalgam: a combination of dualisms, conflicts and idiosyncrasies."
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« Reply #41 on: June 18, 2009, 06:49:49 PM »

I still need to do some more work, but here is the philosophy and cosmology behind demons and chair summoning. It is obviously based on Plato's Forms. I hope it is somewhat clear; hard to describe the images and ideas in your mind perfectly.

Transcendent Thought Philosophy
Transcendent Thought Philosophy is an old philosophy concerning the nature of things. Ancient texts from as far back as somewhere in the Indeterminate Age made the first speculations about the nature of Ideals and Abstracts. The basic theories state that every defined class of object, concept, or creature, e.g. chair, dog, honesty, etc., corresponds to a single abstract idea; an idea that perfectly describes the class of objects. The chair is the classical example, employed both by teachers and those who first proposed the ideas. There are many types of chairs: chairs with backs, chairs with three legs, polstered chairs, unpolstered chairs, and so on. But they are still all chairs. So when we call something a chair, it is because it corresponds to the elements of the All-chair, the idea that encompasses everything a chair can be; and this is the Abstract of a chair.

Traits of an Abstract
The abstracts exist outside space and time, but they do in fact exist, as confirmed in the now outlawed thoughtform experiments. Their existence is alien to our minds, but scientists have long sought to combine our existence with theirs. Finally the process known as Reification was discovered, where thoughts are focused and directed through malleable material to create a thoughtform; an object embodying the Abstract to a certain degree. Only a few Abstracts can be summoned like this though, as the research of one Olimander Platones showed. He was the first to experiment with Reification and attempted to call in the shape of the All-chair from a powerful aetherical light source he had acquired. His assistants found him next day partly disintegrated at the sight of this ideal object. It was later discovered that concepts that are objectively defined, objects mostly, achieve an ideal state that can hardly be expressed in this world and twist the world before finally breaking down. These Abstracts are known as Ideals. things that are subjectively defined on the other hand, most concepts for example, are known as Vagaries. These Abstracts are of a more fluid nature. Justice for example is a Vagary, since what one man might consider to be just might be considered crime by another, and as such you can't define everything Justice is. It's an everchanging thing molded by the individual mind.

Practical Applications
While binding and exploiting the powers of an Ideal is virtually impossible, science has managed to bind small Vagaries for a limited amount of time in a watery solution. Vagaries typically bound are Manners, White Lies, Noises in the Dark, and Ambiguity; small, vague, and easy to control. The reifications seem to have some supernatural qualities, able to circumvent the laws of nature to a small degree, and some seem to exhibit signs of outside influence or sentience. This science has been outlawed now though, and no honorable scientists delve into the matters.
The knowledge on how to sustain Vagaries was known well before science made it official though, only then it was known as Demonology; an occult discipline describing how to summon and control otherworldly beings. Demonologists have long had access to refined methods that allow them to make a self-sustaining and semi-sentient Vagary known as a demon; a powerful supernatural creature which they either exploit or control.    

Demonology
Demonology is a surprisingly old craft, founded by way of ancient manuscripts of unknown origin. Most demonologists are loners, considering themselves to be the sole keepers of this dread, often inherited, secret. Only the Kasheelien Order, the secretive order of monks based somewhere in the Viridian Mountains, have any organized knowledge on the subject, and they only wield it so no one else has to, attempting to protect the secrets of demonology (they are rumored to somehow be behind the ban on thoughtform science). It should be noted that they consider demons to be quite evil though. Most demonologists don't depend on modern equipment like the scientists though, and instead use mind-altering drugs to provide a mental energy field fuelling the imagination and reification, and often spike their solutions with blood, giving the demon added life. They also use symbols to focus their thoughts (often circles), and isolate themselves to avoid distractions. Demons are either bound to the service of a demonologist through contracts or by exploiting the natural nature of the bound Vagary, or the demon is forced into a binding; often to the skin of the demonologist himself. This grafting can give the demonologist control over some of the more arcane powers of the demon.  
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« Reply #42 on: June 20, 2009, 08:22:29 PM »

This short story is meant to show off the Choir and their powers, as well as the relationship between them and their organization. There have been made some changes; I'm probably going with a gaunlet instead of a rod (unless i hear any criticism) and the Order has been renamed the Orchestra

Choir of Devils


Alyan Kerachi stood in front of the cracked and dirty mirror of his hotel room, staring at his own reflection. It was a cheap hotel, catering to the more unsavory clientel that wasn't allowed anywhere near the more decent establishments, and Alyan had been somewhat surprised to find a mirror in his room, even if it only barely barely qualified as such anymore. And although he had chosen the hotel because it was close to unknown, he was glad that it had a mirror so he could take a final look at himself. He had never considered himself particularly narcissistic, but had always enjoyed gazing at his own visage and noticing the small, sometimes nearly imperceptible, differences that made him aware of the passage of time. It was an awareness he felt sometimes eluded him after the many years spent secluded in the Academy of the Orchestra. It was hardly the only thing his training at lost him though, a fact he was reminded of whenever he looked at his right hand. Atrophied and deformed, it was a pitiful sight, but it was also the hallmark of an experienced Choir. And other than the Echo Gauntlet lying on the table in front of the mirror it was the only thing that reminded him of the nature of his trade.  
Of course, he reminded himself, most Choirs would see him as a traitor, a rogue, since he had fled the Orchestra to escape his debt to them and seek his own fortune. He realized the folly of that decision many years ago, but there was no way back now and he had until now managed to avoid death at the hands of their hired assassins and had lived a relatively comfortable life. But they might be on to him again very soon if everything went according to plan. Plans that involved murder had a tendency to cause a stir after all.    
He strapped on the heavy gauntlet, his only weapon, along with the complex framework it had to be worn with and covered the entire set of complex machinery with a thick dark coat. Then he stepped out in the drizzling rain to meet his enemy.          
Although his reputation as an alchemical conman with a skill for procuring fake gold might have been a problem in more respectable circles, it was a useful reputation in the criminal elements he now dealt with. It was only sad that his latest partnership was but a ruse so he could get close to the man he hated; Khierian crime boss Okram Boros. A slavetrader and passionate collector of antiques, Boros and his thugs had killed the woman he loved after her small antiquity store had refused to sell a specific antiquity to him. This was a year ago, and his hatred and anger had only increased since then. And now he had finally had a meeting arranged with his unknowing victim. He was just glad that his profession was sufficiently secretive so that none of the guards who searched him suspected anything was wrong when he came in wearing a heavy gauntlet and were discouraged from further searching by letting out a slight comment about his suspicions about possibly having been infected with the Weirdplague.
And a short while after he was in the audience room. An actual audience room. Okram obviously had some issues with modesty. The guards didn't look like something belonging in a royal court though; they looked like ordinary thugs only with a few more scars and assorted bits of metal stuck to their thick leather jerkins. Okram Boros, self-proclaimed Crime King, was sitting in an ornate wooden chair on a small dias at the far end of the room. He was well-nourished, to say the least, and dressed a good deal better than his minions. Alyan felt his anger rising as he noticed the man was wearing the medaillion Boros had previously stolen from his lover, but managed to keep his calm.
"Ah, Mr. Kerachi. I'm glad you're finally here. Let's get down to business immediately shall we?" greeted the crimeboss while he got up and spread out his arms in a friendly manner.
"Sadly, Mr. Boros, I haven't come here for a different business than the one i led you to believe i was here for," Alyan answered calmly but with a hint of hostility he could not quite hide, swinging open the right side of his coat to reveal a flat piece of polished steel strapped to his belt. The guards shifted and drew their swords halfway out of their sheaths, unsure as to whether they should perceive the unveiling of what appeared to be a scabbard for a very unwieldy dagger worn by a crippled man as a threat.  
Boros sighed and sat down, "well, you can hardly be an assassin considering that you have no weapon and appear to have a rather sickly pallor. But I'll take no chances. Guards, dispose of this man. Goodbye, Mr. Kerachi."
Although a shorter conversation than Alyan had expected, the conclusion had been inevitable and he smiled contently as he turned to face the guards.
The guards were now coming menacingly forward with drawn swords; pitted yet perfectly lethal pieces of practical weaponry. Alyans weapon was hardly practical, but it did have something to offer in flexibility. He flicked his left wrist, activating the spring-loaded mechanism that extended the Key Grip into his left palm, and struck his palm three times against the metal plate on his belt with a specific rhythm he thought adequate for the situation. The gauntlet started humming and although nearly inaudible it was a pervasive sound, and even Okram, standing 5 meters away, seemed alarmed and quickly grabbed a crossbow that had been lying next to his chair. Alyan calmly waited for the guards to make a move, and couldn't stop himself from humming along to the ethereal song of his gauntlet; a song of Steel and Form.  
The first thug let out a warcry and charged with his sword raised above his head, but Alyan interposed his charged Echo Gauntlet between himself and the predictable strike, and with his left hand he manipulated the Key Grip, altering the pitch of the hum ever so slightly. The blade came crashing down towards his hand with lethal speed, but it never connected. Instead, the part of the steel blade about to strike the open palm started wobbling and small drops of steel seemed to drop off from the formerly solid blade, leaving a puddle of metallic liquid along with the still solid tip of the blade. The thug, thrown off balance by this very unexpected turn of events, stumbled forward and Alyan tripped him and crushed the shocked man's windpipe with his perfectly mundane boot. The other guard was upon him by then, although the sudden demise of his comrade left his sword swing a somewhat half-hearted and easily dodged affair. As Alyan dodged beneath the blade, he struck the metal plate once again, and could hear a song of Air now. As he got up he shoved the hand towards the face of the the staggered man, and could see of his face instantly contorted as he realized there was no air to breath. His sword clanged on the stone tiles as it fell from his unclenched hand, and he stumbled backwards and fell to the floor, clawing desperately at the air and his throat. Alyan followed him callously, holding the hand in front of his gasping mouth as he let the life-giving air fall heavily to the floor. He dropped to one knee and waited for the scarred man to go limp. A crossbow bolt thudded into the limp body, reminding Alyan once again of his purpose with this visit. Boros was already aiming another bolt at him, but with his Key grip he changed the song once again, and the air around his hand fell to the earth and shattered as ice. The bolt thudded harmlessly into one such frozen block of air and fell harmlessly to the ground. Alyan quickly tapped a complex rhythm at the metal plate until the hum grew to an almost intolerable pitch, and pulled at a small switch which made several springloaded mirrors flip out of the Gauntlet. He took care to hold the gauntlet at arm's reach, as he could positively feel reality warp around it. He clenched his fist and suddenly the hum collapsed into a single loud noise and the reality warp was slung across the room and into the body of the defenseless crimeboss. He wasn't flung back, but the effect was immediately visible and just as dramatic as his blood started to vaporize in front of Alyan's eyes. He screamed and screamed as the water in his eyes disappeared into the air as steam, but Alyan didn't care. This was what he had come for after all. He just stood watching. Even when the dessicated body had been lying dead on the ground for a while, he simply stood staring into the air, half a smile on his face. His mind still echoed with Boros' screams, so he didn't notice the high-pitched and quickly silenced screams of the guards outside nor the soft but deliberate sounds of footsteps approaching. Even when an arrow went through his chest with a dull thud he barely noticed it, and he fell senselessly to the ground. As his vision dimmed the assassin crossed the room to him and wrenched his prized and now silent weapon from his hand, leaving only the twisted stump where the faceless man placed an iron medaillion engraved with a set of concentric circles; the mark of the Orchestra. And even though that was the last thing he would ever see, Alyan regretted nothing.          

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« Reply #43 on: June 21, 2009, 12:59:05 PM »

Cataclysmic Crow


"The World was once a pristine, beautiful and complete machine; Predictable and harmonous. But years pass, history plays cruel tricks, and fate, coincidence, and civilized stupidity together have slowly been breaking it apart and remaking it. It is now but a motley amalgam: a combination of dualisms, conflicts and idiosyncrasies."
Better?

Much, much better.
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Old, evil, twisted, damaged, and afflicted.  Orbis non sufficit.Thread Murderer Extraordinaire, and supposedly pragmatic...\"That is my interpretation. That the same rules designed to reduce the role of the GM and to empower the player also destroyed the autonomy to create a consistent setting. And more importantly, these rules reduce the Roleplaying component of what is supposed to be a \'Fantasy Roleplaying game\' to something else\"-Vreeg

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« Reply #44 on: June 21, 2009, 01:51:21 PM »

You use the term 'well-nourished' twice in 2 para's describing Mr. Okram Boros.  
Alyan's comment about not being their for business seems forced.  Perhaps, "Sadly, Mr. Boros, the business I have come for today involves completing a transaction you made years ago."
The response to Alyan's initial action is also far out of keeping in a man with bodyguards, especially in a world with some magic.  
Last line also rushed.  IS there another Assassin in the room?  Is this someone the choir/orchestra hired?  If so, that needs to be just a little clearer.
I like the plot and the action part is clear.  It does illustrate the gauntlet well, though I think a rod and gauntlet system might be better (not necessary, but better when used in conjuntion..maybe there are only a limited amount of rods out there...)



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VerkonenVreeg, The Nice.Celtricia, World of Factions

Steel Island Online gaming thread
The Collegium Arcana Online Game
Old, evil, twisted, damaged, and afflicted.  Orbis non sufficit.Thread Murderer Extraordinaire, and supposedly pragmatic...\"That is my interpretation. That the same rules designed to reduce the role of the GM and to empower the player also destroyed the autonomy to create a consistent setting. And more importantly, these rules reduce the Roleplaying component of what is supposed to be a \'Fantasy Roleplaying game\' to something else\"-Vreeg

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