All right, just chiming in here to let you know I'm still on board and making progress with my character draft. I've written up some paragraphs for religion, appearance, personality and equipment, and tomorrow most likely I'll finish up personal story (if I decide to spell it out at all - most of it is already stated or implied in other categories, or better left to mystery/interpretation) and skills, as well as some words on a side character I'm introducing along with my main.
Ashgan
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Straightforward and open
Pretty much this. I tend to be a details-oriented guy and like it when settings are well refined, have clearly worked out magic systems et al, but I can't deny the visceral allure of simply playing a messed up character in a messed up world and going from there. As a plus, I love world building. I'm hooked, yo.
Yo Jack, can you explain to me again how binding circles work in this setting?
Much like Jillian expected, Crone at first refused to admit that she was part of the reason that the contract was struck. To this, the witch simply shook her head. Seen objectively, the old sorceress was right – nobody strictly forced her hand, or Gerald’s for that matter. But putting the responsibility for the decision solely on Jillian’s shoulders was unfair because it would completely disregard the pressure that was on her at the time. She owed Gerald her life, at the very least in part to her knowledge, and even disregarding that she would know that Gerald’s fate might well depend on her accepting the contract. Refusal could easily have meant the necromancer’s demise in the near future and his continued misery in the best of cases. The general expectations that the people around her had could not be denied either. Silly as it might be, she was not immune to feeling pressured by the expectations of others. All in all it was not a decision made in a vacuum, devoid of outside factors, and it appeared that Renold agreed with the witch’s thoughts.
“Indeed. We could have made the contract after dealing with Hazzergash,” Jillian remarked upon Gerald’s first thoughts, “But somebody thought we should rush this and now we have to deal with two problems on a tight clock.”
The more she thought about it the more she wished she could make contact with the Grand Master on her own terms. The one thing Jillian agreed with Crone on was his resourcefulness. She wondered how resourceful he was in fact. What were the limits of his contracts? How much could he give Jillian, and how high would the price be? He had already proven that he had interest in things beyond simply souls, so maybe she could obtain certain powerful gifts for him in return for untold power or knowledge. Maybe, thought she felt sad even entertaining the option, even offering the souls of others. Not those of the innocent, mind, but the souls of undeserving scum. Criminals, servants of evil, that sort of people. This, in turn, made her wonder if there was a difference in quality between different souls, and whether or not the Grand Master cared for these nuances. Did someone’s virtuousness play a role in a soul’s value? If nothing else, a magician’s soul ought to be more valuable by virtue of its sheer capacity for power. And what about non-humans? Could Jillian possibly substitute her own soul in a contract for that of a goblin or two? Or a troll? Or did the creature have to be more sentient than that. Something like a Tarke, Melanian or Deigan even? A shudder ran over her fragile spine when she reminded herself of the dark depths her thoughts had taken her to.
“Well, if we know where he is headed,” Jillian suggested, “then we could set a trap. We’re most likely much faster than he is right? We could try and find a good place one day ahead of him and set up an ambush. If we’re lucky we’ll buy ourselves enough time in the confusion and chaos to incapacitate him. If his body has human weaknesses, that should not be too difficult.”
The witch shrugged in response to her own plan. She was no tactician and fully expected either Gerald or someone else to point out the dozen flaws in this, but maybe it would inspire the others to think of a better solution. Hell, if Crone was half as powerful as she made herself out to be, she should be able to render Kevalorn unconscious all by herself, while culling his escort. If she were to receive help by a dragon, a witch and a necromancer, their chances should not be all that bad.
“Indeed. We could have made the contract after dealing with Hazzergash,” Jillian remarked upon Gerald’s first thoughts, “But somebody thought we should rush this and now we have to deal with two problems on a tight clock.”
The more she thought about it the more she wished she could make contact with the Grand Master on her own terms. The one thing Jillian agreed with Crone on was his resourcefulness. She wondered how resourceful he was in fact. What were the limits of his contracts? How much could he give Jillian, and how high would the price be? He had already proven that he had interest in things beyond simply souls, so maybe she could obtain certain powerful gifts for him in return for untold power or knowledge. Maybe, thought she felt sad even entertaining the option, even offering the souls of others. Not those of the innocent, mind, but the souls of undeserving scum. Criminals, servants of evil, that sort of people. This, in turn, made her wonder if there was a difference in quality between different souls, and whether or not the Grand Master cared for these nuances. Did someone’s virtuousness play a role in a soul’s value? If nothing else, a magician’s soul ought to be more valuable by virtue of its sheer capacity for power. And what about non-humans? Could Jillian possibly substitute her own soul in a contract for that of a goblin or two? Or a troll? Or did the creature have to be more sentient than that. Something like a Tarke, Melanian or Deigan even? A shudder ran over her fragile spine when she reminded herself of the dark depths her thoughts had taken her to.
“Well, if we know where he is headed,” Jillian suggested, “then we could set a trap. We’re most likely much faster than he is right? We could try and find a good place one day ahead of him and set up an ambush. If we’re lucky we’ll buy ourselves enough time in the confusion and chaos to incapacitate him. If his body has human weaknesses, that should not be too difficult.”
The witch shrugged in response to her own plan. She was no tactician and fully expected either Gerald or someone else to point out the dozen flaws in this, but maybe it would inspire the others to think of a better solution. Hell, if Crone was half as powerful as she made herself out to be, she should be able to render Kevalorn unconscious all by herself, while culling his escort. If she were to receive help by a dragon, a witch and a necromancer, their chances should not be all that bad.
Jillian’s brows twitched with annoyance when her infernal ‘partner’ was cut short so rudely. His projected visage gone, the witch turned around to face Crone, who was approaching. Arms crossed, she listened to the old woman muttering about how unpleasant she thought the Grand Master. Initially, Jillian might have agreed but now, after their exchange, she was not so sure anymore. The Ancient One did not seem that great an evil to her. A schemer, devious and perhaps a bit malicious, but he had been relatively forthcoming considering both the circumstances and his obligations to them. For all this talk of how demons are meant to be these chaotic, villainous monsters, this one seemed quite reasonable indeed, which was more than she might be willing to say about certain human individuals. Although she might never admit it, she was in fact looking forward to speaking with him again. Perhaps out of mere curiosity, perhaps in order to strike another, more personal deal. She didn’t know, but she was not entirely dishonest when she said she was ‘enthralled’. Jillian wondered what Gerald thought of their partner; was he similarly intrigued, perhaps willing to use his demon prison to help free him? Maybe they wouldn’t have to go all the way – they might be able to use the demon prison, once it has been filled, as part of a trade with the Grand Master. They could give him his general and gain something powerful in return. Risky, perhaps, but the other prisons were most likely difficult or impossible to obtain, considering that this all-powerful Fixer had not yet acquired them for his master, not even the one hanging from Gerald’s neck now. Time could tell, but she might confide the necromancer in on her idea when the time was right. Certainly not now, and certainly not in the presence of Crone and Renold.
“None of us asked, let alone agreed to summoning the Grand Master. I feel like you could have asked us,” Jillian complained in reply to Crone, “Just because you struck a deal with him does not mean you should be so willing to shove others into the same kind of contract.”
“Be that as it may”, she continued with a mild sigh, putting her hands on her hips, “I’m guessing it will work out for us in the end. And yes, we’ll help. Hazzergash is partly responsible for my present state and I’d like to return the favor.”
“Gerald? What do you think? You haven’t said anything in a while,” the witch remarked, gesturing towards him and gazing expectantly.
“None of us asked, let alone agreed to summoning the Grand Master. I feel like you could have asked us,” Jillian complained in reply to Crone, “Just because you struck a deal with him does not mean you should be so willing to shove others into the same kind of contract.”
“Be that as it may”, she continued with a mild sigh, putting her hands on her hips, “I’m guessing it will work out for us in the end. And yes, we’ll help. Hazzergash is partly responsible for my present state and I’d like to return the favor.”
“Gerald? What do you think? You haven’t said anything in a while,” the witch remarked, gesturing towards him and gazing expectantly.
Jillian tilted her head as she gazed at her partner in pact. Of course she could understand his motivations; if she had not felt so before already, now would be the time that it would click for her, that she would come to see his wants and needs as thoroughly human, as opposed to them being unfathomably alien as one might expect of a being which is immortal and from another world. No, all he wanted was power, ego and entertainment. Like most men she knew. Like herself even; were she an immortal, she’d fit right in, she thought to herself. Yet understanding his desire for freedom or not, it was not an option she was willing to consider at the time. Curious about his secrets from beyond the great dark or not, she was not willing to bear the enslavement of the human race on her shoulders as the price. Doubly so because she herself would most likely end up suffering under the Grand Master’s rule. Be that as it may, she found in him an interesting creature, one she would relish to have more conversations with, preferably without the impending doom of a Damocles sword in the form of a contract holding her very soul at ransom.
The witch was about to dispassionately shrug and tell him how freeing him from his prison was sadly not an option for her when Crone, who had been silent for a long time now, chimed in from behind her and Gerald, deciding that the Grand Master had spoken enough for the time being. Moments before dispelling his image, the latter requested one final moment to speak. His permission seemingly granted, he was able to elaborate on one last detail that he felt the witch and the necromancer ought to know, namely that to free him, neither power nor any additional knowledge to what he was about to say was required. Apparently, the key to his prison, or keys as it were, were the crystal prisons which could be used to trap his generals. With all of them returned to their crystalline vessels, one would presumably be able to unravel the seal that binds their master. Having said that, he encouraged them to defeat Hazzergash and return him to the crystal prison which dangled from Gerald’s neck.
Jillian had no reason to doubt what he told them, but it put a new light on their venture regardless. Imprisoning Hazzergash could be seen as positive because it removed him as a threat to Rodoria and its people, but now it seemed that doing so only brought the duchies one step closer to a far greater threat. She also began to wonder where the other crystals were at, and whether or not they were filled. It all seemed rather precarious and ominous, and she felt like her destiny, and that of the Ancient One, were somehow becoming more intertwined by the minute.
“How very generous of you”, Jillian jested, a cheeky grin on her pale lips, “to part with this information so willingly. I wonder why. Either way, I’m happy to learn more about you, partner; I’m so very enthralled. So, since our company is getting impatient, I suppose this is goodbye for now. Farewell, oh Grandest of Masters.”
Jillian bowed courtly before the demon’s image, again feeling somewhat flustered by her shabby appearance. She had spent her entire life in fine silks, her current apparel disgusted her so much that she would rather choose a life in the nude than spending the rest of her days in this and similar garbs. Even so, there were simply more pressing matters for the time being, a fact which in itself vexed her. Maybe she would get lucky and could find something better on her journey, maybe loot something from one of Hazzergash’s underlings or elsewhere. Nigh anything would be better than this sorry blanket she used for a skirt.
The witch was about to dispassionately shrug and tell him how freeing him from his prison was sadly not an option for her when Crone, who had been silent for a long time now, chimed in from behind her and Gerald, deciding that the Grand Master had spoken enough for the time being. Moments before dispelling his image, the latter requested one final moment to speak. His permission seemingly granted, he was able to elaborate on one last detail that he felt the witch and the necromancer ought to know, namely that to free him, neither power nor any additional knowledge to what he was about to say was required. Apparently, the key to his prison, or keys as it were, were the crystal prisons which could be used to trap his generals. With all of them returned to their crystalline vessels, one would presumably be able to unravel the seal that binds their master. Having said that, he encouraged them to defeat Hazzergash and return him to the crystal prison which dangled from Gerald’s neck.
Jillian had no reason to doubt what he told them, but it put a new light on their venture regardless. Imprisoning Hazzergash could be seen as positive because it removed him as a threat to Rodoria and its people, but now it seemed that doing so only brought the duchies one step closer to a far greater threat. She also began to wonder where the other crystals were at, and whether or not they were filled. It all seemed rather precarious and ominous, and she felt like her destiny, and that of the Ancient One, were somehow becoming more intertwined by the minute.
“How very generous of you”, Jillian jested, a cheeky grin on her pale lips, “to part with this information so willingly. I wonder why. Either way, I’m happy to learn more about you, partner; I’m so very enthralled. So, since our company is getting impatient, I suppose this is goodbye for now. Farewell, oh Grandest of Masters.”
Jillian bowed courtly before the demon’s image, again feeling somewhat flustered by her shabby appearance. She had spent her entire life in fine silks, her current apparel disgusted her so much that she would rather choose a life in the nude than spending the rest of her days in this and similar garbs. Even so, there were simply more pressing matters for the time being, a fact which in itself vexed her. Maybe she would get lucky and could find something better on her journey, maybe loot something from one of Hazzergash’s underlings or elsewhere. Nigh anything would be better than this sorry blanket she used for a skirt.
By the way, the link to the compendium in the OP seems broken. Thought I'd point it out because I at least wasn't able to rely on it when looking for some memory refreshers.
Jillian stared at the ancient demon before her, captivated and hanging by his every word. Had she ever wondered why Rodoria was named the Land in the Middle sometimes? Certainly, but not for long. Like with most nations (and indeed, most humans), she had assumed that those from whom the name originated had simply seen themselves as the most important thing in the world, the center around which everything else congregated. Furthermore, from a cartographer’s perspective, it made a lot of sense to put Rodoria in the middle as every mapping expedition would find its beginnings here, filling out the map of Reniam in a spreading circle with Rodoria at its center. By the Ancient One’s implications, however, it became clear that he at least believed otherwise, saw another explanation.
Arms still crossed, she gave a light shrug after his presumably rhetorical questions and muttered “Have a feeling you’re about to enlighten me.”
So he did. He told her of his enigmatic arrival from beyond the darkness of Stupor. She had known that bit at least, being educated enough to have studied some ancient history. What she had not known, however, was that he was ‘specifically’ from another world. Truly she had never wondered where he’d come from, maybe the Union plane or simply Stupor itself, but if what he said was true, then the implications would be monstrous. Another world? Like Reniam? Were all beings there like him, or was he an exception? What was the world like? Was it possible to go there? And if there were two worlds, why not three? Could there be potentially many other worlds out there, beyond the grasp of any mortal, beyond the cold barrier of Stupor? Places that not even the Spirits or the Gods could reach or know about?
The Master’s voice tore her back to the reality of Reniam, though part of her mind lingered in the lofty heights, beyond the dark veil of the night sky and what mysteries might dwell beyond its farthest depths. Although he presented the witch with two options for reaching him, both sounded difficult and undesireable. Undoing the tower’s curse was clearly not an option; even if Jillian had the knowledge and the power to do such a feat, she would refuse to. Unleashing the Grand Master would be the last thing she’d agree to, knowing full well it would be the beginning of a new dark age for humanity. Swimming to the tower would be equally difficult, for the tower must be at a considerable depth and she strongly doubted that she could survive diving to such an extent. Nevermind that she was not a very good swimmer and detested cold water.
“I would be lying if I said I was not intrigued,” the witch admitted, slanted, attentive eyes fixed on the floating image of the great demon as she paced back and forth, “Were you a man I’d love nothing more than to share a bottle of wine or two and listen to your tales of this other world beyond Stupor, but alas. As you clearly know, I’ll not be able to get to your tower without help, nor anytime soon. Presuming that I still live after our little bargain is done with, we can talk again then if you’re still offering.”
“And don’t think that I have forgotten that you neglected to mention your interest in my visit,” Jillian added stern of voice, extending her right index towards the Grand Master.
Arms still crossed, she gave a light shrug after his presumably rhetorical questions and muttered “Have a feeling you’re about to enlighten me.”
So he did. He told her of his enigmatic arrival from beyond the darkness of Stupor. She had known that bit at least, being educated enough to have studied some ancient history. What she had not known, however, was that he was ‘specifically’ from another world. Truly she had never wondered where he’d come from, maybe the Union plane or simply Stupor itself, but if what he said was true, then the implications would be monstrous. Another world? Like Reniam? Were all beings there like him, or was he an exception? What was the world like? Was it possible to go there? And if there were two worlds, why not three? Could there be potentially many other worlds out there, beyond the grasp of any mortal, beyond the cold barrier of Stupor? Places that not even the Spirits or the Gods could reach or know about?
The Master’s voice tore her back to the reality of Reniam, though part of her mind lingered in the lofty heights, beyond the dark veil of the night sky and what mysteries might dwell beyond its farthest depths. Although he presented the witch with two options for reaching him, both sounded difficult and undesireable. Undoing the tower’s curse was clearly not an option; even if Jillian had the knowledge and the power to do such a feat, she would refuse to. Unleashing the Grand Master would be the last thing she’d agree to, knowing full well it would be the beginning of a new dark age for humanity. Swimming to the tower would be equally difficult, for the tower must be at a considerable depth and she strongly doubted that she could survive diving to such an extent. Nevermind that she was not a very good swimmer and detested cold water.
“I would be lying if I said I was not intrigued,” the witch admitted, slanted, attentive eyes fixed on the floating image of the great demon as she paced back and forth, “Were you a man I’d love nothing more than to share a bottle of wine or two and listen to your tales of this other world beyond Stupor, but alas. As you clearly know, I’ll not be able to get to your tower without help, nor anytime soon. Presuming that I still live after our little bargain is done with, we can talk again then if you’re still offering.”
“And don’t think that I have forgotten that you neglected to mention your interest in my visit,” Jillian added stern of voice, extending her right index towards the Grand Master.
Thanks Shien! Hard to believe but I actually forgot about that rather massive lake.
Yo, I can't seem to find a map of Rodoria anymore (seems lacking from the compendium?). Could you guys link me one or refresh my mind on where Center Lake is?
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