RP: Winter's Valley-Chapter 1
mashedtaters
Member Posts: 2,266
in Role Playing
Winter's Valley-Chapter 1
Power Shift
It’s been 200 Winters since the Darkening.
Winter is merciless. Every year, She rains shards of sharpened ice rain from the sky, demanding blood from those without shelter as though a supplication to the gods. Winter banishes the sun, forbidding it to temper Her blistering ice. She hides the sun’s warmth with a veil of thick, breathless dust that chokes and grays out the landscape. Her fury is still but deadly.
Man knows little of how this world came to be. Some say that Winter has always hated him and has forever sought to smother him in Her blighted grip. Others say Winter murdered the gods and placed Herself above man as his new master. Still, others say that man angered the gods and they abandoned him to his well-deserved fate as Winter’s prey. Even more curious and unbelievable legends are spoken of in whispers. Such whispers are the mere pitiful whines of man to understand what has turned him into the skittish, desperate cry from the greatness that once was his.
For the shadows of his previous life do mar the valley. Ancient, enchanted ruins, adorned with the echoes of times past, serve as homes for Winter’s wicked servants. Her minions seek to steal the hard-earned resources accrued by man during his summer reprieve. They are enemies to all. Winter has infested certain men with her hunger, pitting him against rebuilding, against peace, against himself. Those men seek to take what they did not earn during summer. They are hardened, and thirsty for blood and bread.
Power Shift
It’s been 200 Winters since the Darkening.
Winter is merciless. Every year, She rains shards of sharpened ice rain from the sky, demanding blood from those without shelter as though a supplication to the gods. Winter banishes the sun, forbidding it to temper Her blistering ice. She hides the sun’s warmth with a veil of thick, breathless dust that chokes and grays out the landscape. Her fury is still but deadly.
Man knows little of how this world came to be. Some say that Winter has always hated him and has forever sought to smother him in Her blighted grip. Others say Winter murdered the gods and placed Herself above man as his new master. Still, others say that man angered the gods and they abandoned him to his well-deserved fate as Winter’s prey. Even more curious and unbelievable legends are spoken of in whispers. Such whispers are the mere pitiful whines of man to understand what has turned him into the skittish, desperate cry from the greatness that once was his.
For the shadows of his previous life do mar the valley. Ancient, enchanted ruins, adorned with the echoes of times past, serve as homes for Winter’s wicked servants. Her minions seek to steal the hard-earned resources accrued by man during his summer reprieve. They are enemies to all. Winter has infested certain men with her hunger, pitting him against rebuilding, against peace, against himself. Those men seek to take what they did not earn during summer. They are hardened, and thirsty for blood and bread.
11
Comments
The Castle of Astorwind stands upon a hill, looking out over man, its charge, its green fields and harsh wilderness. The King of Astorwind, Lord Corak, stands atop the battlement, his face scarred from countless battles. He looks to the north, from where She comes with her freezing shards of ice and her black dust. His smile is mirthless. He knows he will not see Her this time. He thinks of how he built this Castle, this beacon of civilization in a harsh world and he is not displeased.
Those were hard days, much harder than the relative peace he created. The things he did, the atrocities he committed… he knows his soul will suffer in hell, if such a thing even exists. But he has no remorse. He built this pocket of civilization upon the bodies of the dead. Blood is worked into the mortar beneath his hands, and bones are crushed into the bricks beneath his feet.
The dead know no more. He served the greater good, and he is not ashamed.
“Hello Father,” comes the voice of his son behind him.
King Corak slowly turns to face his Casak, his heir. “It is time?” asks Lord Corak.
His son gives that youthful, beautiful, yet cold grin. “Yes, your Majesty,” he says, cold with sarcasm befitting Winter Herself.
“Then scour the village,” the king commands.
With a icy salute, the son turns, his cold grin now simmering with cruelty.
“Yes,” mutters the king to the north where his eternal enemy, Winter, is brewing her worst. “You have finally defeated me… not with your shards and your dust, but by my own blood.” His scarred face is empty.
Hi! Welcome to the Winter’s Valley homebrew roleplaying thread! This is my custom world I created for the purpose of roleplaying here on the Beamdog forums. I hope that you will enjoy our fun here.
Please read the rules before you post.
Joining the thread (anyone can join!):
Please do not spam the thread.
You are not required to read the entire thread before you join!
You have three basic options if you wish to join in the game:
You can join as a party member.
You can join as a non-party plot NPC.
You can join as a villain.
You can also join as a hybrid of the above, and move between roles—but beware of death (see below).
Make sure you PM me your choice. Do not post what kind of plot character you are playing in the main thread for the other players to see! This should be secret, though as the game progresses I’m sure the other players will figure out what kind of character you chose.
Expectations of party members:
I expect you to post on a semi-regular basis. I’m not going to set a set amount of time, because my own real-life is limited by my 12-hour shift job and my family. However, if you foresee yourself going for a long while without posting, please consider instead posting as a non-party plot NPC.
If you are already a party member and need a break for some reason, send me a PM and we can work out how your character will be handled.
Despite the fact that your character is good, you are in complete control of your character. You will be rewarded for roleplaying over anything else, even when straying from alignment. But if you make the decision for your character to do lots of evil things, be aware that he might be slain “FOR JUSTICE!” (squeak!)
Expectations of non-party plot NPCs:
Expect that your character may die some tragic or ignominious death. We will work out the details. That is okay, you can still play in as different type of plot character. Your character’s death can be an opportunity for some fun roleplaying.
Consider this character somewhat under my control as well. We will plan together on what he knows and how he behaves, but I will ultimately defer to your judgment when you are active. We will also collaborate and plan on when/if he is slain, but understand that if you don’t post during a crucial plot point, your character may die at my discretion.
Expectation of villains:
As GM, I reserve the right to take control of the villain’s decisions if you send him in a direction that doesn’t match the story. I don’t expect that to happen, though, if you’re willing to roleplay as a villain. This should be a lot of fun.
Expectations of all players:
You can also describe your character’s physical appearance using your stats, but just like in real life, appearance doesn’t always reflect physical potential. You should use your character’s stats to develop and maintain a personality that will reflect in your discussions with the other players.
Please also write in "spoilers" when speaking out of character. You can also just send me a PM if you have any questions that you don't want the other players to know the answer to.
Character stats:
There won’t be as heavy emphasis on character stats or leveling as in most D&D games. Instead, we will focus on decisions, roleplaying, and discussions.
However, there are some baselines:
Ability scores:
Please refer to the AD&D Advanced Player’s Handbook 2nd Edition section “What the Numbers Mean.” The text of that is below, or you can just google the PDF manual and look it up yourself.
Suppose you decide to name your character “Rath” and you rolled the following abilities scores for him:
Strength 8
Dexterity 14
Constitution 13
Intelligence 13
Wisdom 7
Charisma 6
Rath has strengths and weaknesses, but it is up to you to interpret what the numbers mean. Here are just two ways these numbers could be interpreted.
1) Although Rath is in good health (Con 13), he’s not very strong (Str 8) because he’s just plain lazy—he never wanted to exercise as a youth and now it’s too late. His low Wisdowm and Charisma scores (7, 6) show that he lacks the common sense to apply himself properly and projects a slothful, “I’m not going to bother” attitude (which tends to irritate others). Fortunately, Rath’s natural wit (Int 13) and Dexterity (14) keep him from being a total loss.
Thus, you might play Rath as an irritating, smart-alecky twerp forever ducking just out of range of those who want to squash him.
2) Rath has several good points—he has studied hard (Int 13) and practicied his manual skills (Dex 14). Unfortunately, his Strength is low (8) from a lack of exercise (all those hours spent reading books). Despite that, Rath’s health is still good (Con 13). His low Wisdom and Charisma (7, 6) are a result of his lack of contact and involvement with people outside the realm of academics.
Looking at the scores this way, you could play Rath as a kindly, naive, and shy professorial type who’s a good tinkerer, always fiddling with new ideas and inventions.
Obviously, Rath’s abilities scores (often called “stats”) are not the greatest in the world. Yet it is possible to turn these “disappointing” stats in a character who is both interesting and fun to play. Too often players become obsessed with “good” stats. These players immediately give up on a character if he doesn’t have a majority of above-average scores. There are even those who feel a character is hopeless if he does not have at least one abilities of 17 or higher! Needless to say, these players would never consider playing a character with an ability score of 6 or 7.
In truth, Rath’s survivability has a lot less to do with his ability scores than with your desire to role-play him. If you give up on him, of course he won’t survive! But if you take an interest in the character and role-play him well, then even a character with the lowest possible scores can present a fun, challenging, and all-around exciting time. Does he have a Charisma of 5? Why? Maybe he’s got an ugly scar. His table manners could be atrocious. He might mean well but always manages to say the wrong thing at the wrong time. He could be bluntly honest to the point of rudeness, something not likely to enead him to most people. His dexterity is a 3? Why? Is he naturally clumsy or blind as a bat?
Don’t give up on a character just because he has a low score. Instead, view it as an opportunity to role-play, to create a unique and entertaining personality in the game. Not only will you have fun creating that personality, but other players and the DM will have fun reacting to him.
Humans:
Class:
We will work together on writing it and making it fit into the world. You can talk about it in the main thread, but when you do I expect it to be communicated in character, like you are telling someone about yourself.
If you are a villain, you may still choose to talk truthfully or deceptively about your character's personality and background. In fact, you can lie about yourself for any reason, just like in real life. But I want to know the truth about your character and why you lie so I can fit it into the story.
Surviving:
Don’t be afraid to run away from enemies! You aren’t committing an evil act by running away, you’re trying to survive out there.
The main ways to die are:
Thirst
Starvation
Elements (especially the cold)
Enemies
Combat:
Feedback (special rule):
“I, the Goddess Winter, am a fickle Goddess, and show my favor on only when I see fit, and otherwise rain havoc on all who know me.”
In all honesty, the cheating thing is just an old DM joke. My goal here is to HAVE FUN! If you're not having fun, I expect you to tell me! I can't see your expression like in a normal tabletop game, so I have no clue what's going on in your head.
Please, don't simmer or be upset if something I wrote bothers you or if the way the adventure is panning out doesn't please you. Because this is text, I have no tools of determining whether or not you're having fun other than your written text.
I just want you to know that there isn't going to be an exact method of calculating victory like in tabletop or video games, so communication of both enjoyment and disappointment is key! I need your feedback!
Character Stat Block:
Race: Halfling
Role: Non-Party Plot NPC
Alignment: Neutral
Stats: Str 8, Con 9, Dex 13, Int 14, Wis 9, Cha 12
Backstory, Description, Personality:
Kepper lives in the farmland outside of Astorwind. He has been a shepherd his whole life, and is very familiar with all kinds of animal husbandry. Kepper cares deeply about his wife and children and would do anything to protect them. He served as an assistant waterboy in the Astorwind Patrol when he was younger, but now that he has aged a few years he’s not sure his old battlewounds can take the strain if push came to shove. Thus, when he was approached by the halfling underground, he turned it down. He was tempted, but doubts he could do much to help them, and he doesn’t believe the risk is worth it anyway. Despite that, he won’t betray them. Best to keep his head down and his nose clean. That’s the best way to keep food on his table and the Astorwind soldiers off his back.
Implementation of Character Stat Block:
A newly promoted soldier captain with a mocking grin and all the arrogance of early-given authority breaks off from the patrol marching down the road. Stomping through the Smalltoe garden with irreverence, he steps up to Kepper with his hand set threateningly on his sword. “You there!” he says with a menacing grin. “Don’t you know who I am?”
Your post (you can speak in 1st or 3rd person, it doesn’t matter):
“Aye, I do sir,” says Kepper, keeping his head down in subservience. He shifts his feet at the dirt and refuses to make eye-contact.
My post:
“And who am I?” says the guard angrily. He draws his sword and points it at Kepper’s heart.
Your post:
“You’re the only reason I am safe enough to grow food to feed my family,” says Kepper, his heart racing. He looks at his family in fear.
My post:
The guard sneers with contempt. “AND??” he yells.
Your post:
“And I’d hope you’d do me the honor of accepting this meager offering of food from my family’s table,” he says timidly. With a heavy limp, Kepper walks over to the basket laid out by his wife and pulls out a dried hock of lamb. “I’m always prepared to give to the patrol, I am. I used to be in the patrol myself, you know, sir, and I certainly am grateful for the sacrifices you make on our behalf.”
My post:
The guard takes the lamb hock and bites into it hungrily. “Hmph,” he says placated. “Well, just don’t you forget your place. I hear there’s some sort of uprising or something. As a former patrolman—well, at least half a patrolman—I’m sure you know your duty to keep us apprised if you hear anything?”
Your post:
“Yes, sir, I will certainly speak of it to you if I hear anything,” says Kepper with a relieved nod.
And you have basically communicated the description of your character (his limp and backstory) and shown his personality without outright putting the stat block into the game. He was able to convince the guard to leave him alone (charisma) and think his way out of a potentially bad situation (intelligence). However, he wasn't quite wise enough to think of a way to turn the situation to his advantage (wisdom).
Tagging @ThacoBell and @Skatan who both expressed interest in joining the game.
I look forward to playing with you!
You were right, @BelgarathMTH, there are too many sub-forums here.
Thank you for bringing this to my attention.
A few guidelines:
For example:
1.You have sent me a PM requesting to join the game.
2. I have sent you a PM confirming that I have received your stat block and I will introduce your character to the story.
If your CHARACTER wants to know something about his surroundings, you can just ask in the main thread something like, "What does Jeb (or what do I) see and hear?" and I will describe it to you.
Instead of settling into the incoming harvest preparations, activity among the soldiers has increased. The common man has little knowledge of what goes on beyond the borders of Astorwind, but there is no doubt that every expedition beyond them is dangerous.
The castle halls are dark and chill in the closing summer season. The sun is clouded over by the first incoming streaks of black dust. The dust swirls around the corridors, mirroring the stressful whispers of its inhabitants.
Through the black swirling dust struts the heir-apparent, Casak, his cruel face twisted into a sarcastic grin. On either side of him strut his most trusted bodyguards. They never question their liege, silent and steadfast as the grave. Casak grins to himself. “They should like this,” he says gloatingly to his bodyguards. As ever, they do not answer.
Their aim is one particular tower kept a bit homier and warm than the rest of the castle...
At the desk by the crackling fire sits a dwarf in the royal clothes of the Astorwind lorekeeper, penning. At another desk sits a well-groomed half-orc, wearing the dress of a servant, a very strange sight indeed. The half-orc is actually reading, an assignment from his tutor.
A harsh knock at the door suddenly wakens them both from their concentration.
How do you respond to the harsh knocking, which repeats itself after only a second?
*The room is quickly crossed and the door opens*
"Welcome to the home of Master Cramnoch, may I have your names, so that I can declare you?"
*The servant is a little small for a human, but on closer inspection, is a Half-Orc. Wearing a fine but not flamboyant light blue coat and shiny black boots. He removes a wide brimmed, but practical hat with a small feather stuck in the brim and gives a low bow*
“Why do you insist on dressing up your pet, Master Colden?” he sneers as he pushes into the room, not bothering to be announced. One of the bodyguards roughly pushes the half-orc servant out of the way so that he doesn’t touch the prince. “At least the slavers don’t let their valuable silks and furs go to waste on such filth. They prefer the loin cloth, though I can’t withstand the sight of that much slime.” He sniffs. “Do I detect a whiff of perfume? Trying to drown out the stench, are we, Master Colden?”
There is indeed no whiff of perfume or smell of any sort other than the merry crackling fire. But that doesn’t stop Prince Casak from engaging in his favorite pastime of flaunting his authority over Colden Cramnoch’s servant. The many scars on his face curl as he grins cruelly at the half-orc, daring him to respond. Those many scars serve as a reminder of the hard battles he has won and injuries he has survived. They remind that, though the prince acts spoiled and cocky, he is a friend to violence and no stranger to hardship.
As the story progresses, I may (or may not) give your character a one or two line sentence called a DM insight. A DM insight may tell you something about your surroundings that you are especially likely to know, like a spot check or a knowledge check; or it could say something about an NPC based on your history and familiarity with that NPC; or perhaps give you special information based on your class, race, stats, player status.
What you do with that information is entirely up to you, however...
"Why does the monk give his last bread to the beggar? Why does the Mother Bird feed her younglings from her own belly, from her very beak? .... Carak, you grace my humble dwelling with your presence. Have you come for another session of tutelage?"
Colden, gently puts back the feather pen into its ink bottle, blows on the still wet ink and turns to Carak and stands up. Tall for a dwarf, he still have to look up at the Prince as he steadily face him and lock eyes.
“Riddles and poems, and dressing up animals like they’re people... you never change... but, no, I have not come for another one of your sessions, thank the Sun God for that.
“No, I come bearing news from my father, the king. It is concerning the trouble on the northern border. He has need of you to pen an Official Declaration again... you know how father is, always wanting to appear official and less barbaric than the ‘raiders’. Frankly, I don’t see why he won’t just round the villagers all up like the they do, but I’m sure you have something to do with that...
“We are in need of another several score men, so he has declared a draft. Yes, the first one in 10 years.
“I think it’s a waste of time, myself. They aren’t warriors, by any stretch of the imagination.” He crinkles his nose, sarcastic and bored. “I shan’t know how I will get all that peasant blood off my new clothes.”
"What have you done, why do you have peasant blood on your clothes? And what is this Declaration the King implore me to write? Give me the details so I may record them. Remember what I have taught you, details matter."
Tried to teach you at least.. Colden thinks to himself. What happened to that young boy I trained, what happened to his innocence? This damned winter corrodes even the best of us.. in us.. perhaps even myself?
Colden picks up a notebook and his feather pen and pulls his chair closer to the couch and sits down facing Carak. He opens a blank page and wet the quill pen with his tongue, revealing how ink over years seem to have miscolored it. An old habit done unconsciously.
“I was referring to their inevitable deaths at the hands of the enemy orcs and how their splatterings will muss up my clothing. Though, now that I think of it, I’m sure one or two of them will need the lesson of the royal blade as they inevitably resist the draft.”
He sneers in contempt. “Ignorant fools! They expect, demand even, that the safety of this kingdom, hard won, comes at no cost to them! They can’t see that the only reason they are alive is because we fight, bleed, and die for their mud-huts and ugly wench-wives.”
He stands up, pushing his way past the dwarf. “YOU know, Master Colden, how many companions and men-at-arms I... we... have lost to the savagery of our enemies... They thirst for our hard-won crops, for that which they do not earn.”
He begins to mutter, “I can hear the braying of the pathetic wrenches now... ‘Please, don’t take Jeb! Waaah!’ And yet never have they known the true horrors of war. They are lucky the orcs don’t fall on their whole village! Were it but for my blood and the blood of my brothers, spilt...”
“Master Colden...” he whispers. Then, he clears his throat, and his sarcastic, pampered facade returns.
“As far as the details of this official declaration nonsense, father told them to me, but I hardly care enough to remember them. Something about, I’m sure, the drivel you usually write...
“‘By Royal Decree Henceforth on this Day from the Therefore and Heretofore and Whatfors and Whathaveyous...’ Just make up something, and I’m sure it will sound impressive enough as it usually does to the illiterate in the village. They’ll understand well enough once we start hauling their men off to shove weapons in their hands.”
He turns to the door. “I’m afraid I have other pressing business to attend to before the draft. It is to take place within the next hour or so. Did I not say that? Dear me, it must have slipped my mind. If you have any questions, see father. I shall muster the garrison and see you in the village.”
And with that, he and his bodyguards leave, closing the door behind them.
*Lagrord walks over to the nearest chair and slumps into it. He is quiet for some time."
"Well then, let's go see the King and see if he has any further information or tasks for us." Colden then checks his clothing, tightens the belt and make sure his appearance is fit for a King and starts to walk out of the room. He glance back at Lagrord, "Will you join me?"
*Lagrord straps his rapier and follows Colden out*
You make your way down the familiar, darkened corridors of the castle for the king’s throne room. You pass by several servants going about their business as usual, though that stress of the unknown lays upon their features.
One of them stops you, an older, skinny, balding halfling woman named Nerna who works in the kitchens. She bows before you in supplication, then immediately starts rambling on.
“Oy, masters Cramnoch and his servant, bless his soul—” she has never quite brought herself to look at Lagrord or say his name, but she has always been cordial to him “—forgive my intrusions, if’n it’s none my business, I’m sure, but I’m afeared there’s talkin’ in the kitchens again, and I heard the king’s imposing a new draft, he is! Oh, my boy, my little boy, Kem, I’m sure you know him, bein’ the knowin’ type you is, and all, you is—well, he’s got it in his head to defy the king, gettin’ all mixed up with that—that—that—” she looks around conspiratorially and mouths the word “underground”, then she quickly smacks her mouth as though she had spoken a bad word. She looks around, wondering if she had been heard.
“Whatever that riffraff is,” she continues on in a harsh whisper, “they’ve done filled his head with all sorts of nonsense, they have, and him, bein’ the fiery and noisy type, as it were, well, I’m just sure he’ll try to demonstrate, and—and—and...”
She bursts into tears, “Knowin’ the kings temperament as I do, and knowin’ Kem won’t shut his trap as I do, and knowin’ your kindheartedness as I do, I pray that you’ll do what you can to stay the king’s judgement and spare his life so as he won’t be beheaded on the spot!”
All this comes at you in such a rapid fire and breathless pace that one unfamiliar with Nerna would have hardly caught a word of it. But as you both are familiar with her, you gather enough of the garbled, quickfire words to understand that she’s worried her son will stage some sort of protest during the draft; she is afraid the king will execute him, and begs you to stay his hand should the need arise.
"Nerna! It feels like its been ages since I've seen your son. How old is he again? I'm afraid my thoughts have been jumbled about lately."
Colden face Nerna and Lagrord and let them exchange words without interrupting.