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9 mos ago
Current Star Wars Persistent World, that was a thing that was sort of a thing. Kind of.
12 mos ago
LongSword is objectively the best main. Objectively.
1 yr ago
The ones from Calle are usually monthly. I tried to start another one a few years back.
1 like
1 yr ago
If you feel like you need help no shame in going out there and getting it. Take care of yourself.
4 likes
1 yr ago
I think you can develop a flair. A personal style. Words and phrases you like. That's why I don't get using Grammarly for word suggestions.
5 likes

Bio

I be Bango.

Most Recent Posts




If Thiago bites it I'll replace him with a female Halfling. A wee little pirate lass.
Red Dog




Aliases (if any): Rojo Perro / The Walking Man
Allegiance (if any): The Crow
Occupation: Brave

Physical Attributes:
Red Dog is unusually tall and large for a Native American. He wears his long hair braided and generally hung over one shoulder or the other. Sharp cruel eyes, that move quickly. In general he moves slowly and deliberately, with a long lazy gait, until he wants to move quickly.

Sex/Gender: Male
Race/Ethnicity: Crow Tribe
Age: 30s
Build: Tall and Large
Distinguishing Features:
Unusually Large, Long Black Hair, Painted Face (often heavily, often Red or Black), wears a tattered and bloody Confederate coat, sometimes with scalps sewn into it.

Mental Attributes:
Red Dog is quite deliberate and persistent. He hunts his prey unerringly following them for hours, days, or weeks until they slip up and he claims their lives. Once he commits to a course of action he will see it through regardless of the consequences.

Positive Trait/Negative Trait

+ Faithful
+ Confident
+ Persistent
- Merciless
- Stubborn
- Bloodthirsty

Education (if any): Raised half among the Crow tribe and half among Christian Settler schools, he can read and speak English and several Native American languages.
Likes: Righting Wrongs, Hunting traitors, the freedom of the great wide open
Dislikes: Encroaching civilization, manifest destiny, Christianization

Notes:
Red Dog is based on an antagonist character from a Deadlands one sheet I read once. He is not particularly fond of the Union or Confederate soldiers though he particularly dislikes the Union as they separated him from his family. He doesn't have the "Old Ways" trait that would prevent him from using modern (in the time period) weapons and technology, and indeed he uses those weapons to seek vengeance for the wrongs committed against his people. I've got a few Shamanic powers in mind for him, but primarily the use of animals to monitor and hunt.

Important Life Moments: Red Dog was taken from his family and tribe and placed to live amongst Christian settlers by Union troops seeking to save his soul. He learned to read and speak English there and he learned about the strange teachings of Christianity and how they used it to justify taking land. Later in life Confederates came to town and attacked the settlement, amid the violence he found his chance to escape. Union killing Confederates, Confederates killing Union, his people being shot by both out of fear that they might join one group or the other, then finally he opened up and gained his freedom. His complete freedom for the first time in his life.
He returned to his tribe, and found that by combining the teachings of his people and his understanding of the Christians a new world was available to explore, and to become lost in.

Special/Supernatural Abilities (if any): Shaman

Supporting Characters (if any): Animal Spirits and Familiars

Signature Weapons/Items:
A Bone Hatchet, a Cavalryman's Revolver and Rifle, a skinning blade.
A rosary inside a medicine bag with some bones, feathers, and other components.


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Two voices on the line, two different sides of the country.

"He just left with the box, met a few of my guys and he seems ok, he's trying [*buzzing noise*]. He's definitely trying."
"What does he know?"
"Doesn't seem like he knows much, been in the ice and all, but one thing, we have to look in to one thing. And I mean right now. We talked a little, about coming back. The ship that picked him up out of the drink, it was the Ishii. They had him [*buzzing noise*]."
"Fuck."
"Yeah."
"Did he know the significance?"
"No, didn't seem like he did. But-"
"Yeah. I know."
"He's not ready for this shit [*buzzing noise*]. It's a different world, it's so goddamned different from what we knew and he-"
"Don't tell him shit."
"I don't like it. I don't like keeping secrets from him. He deserves better than that."
"Deserve doesn't have shit to do with it."
"He's going to start asking questions. [*buzzing noise*] isn't the type to just go along, you know that, and I can't lie to him. Not to him."
"We will deal with that when we come to it."
"Listen, I can't lie to him. I can decide not to tell him things, to protect him I can do that, but I can't lie to him."

The line went silent for a moment.

"[*buzzing noise*] is an idealist in a less than ideal world. We don't deal with the world as we would like it to be, we deal with what we have. What we have right now is a big shit sandwich and we're all going to have to take a bite. You tell him there is work to be done. A soldier's work. There's a place here for him still, but if he starts digging too fast."
"What? What if he does?"
"We will deal with that when we come to it, if we come to it. For now we manage him. Surface answers. Let him figure things out organically, slowly. We control the pace."




San Francisco, California
January 1st 1968



I walked back to my apartment a little over an hour into the year. It had been good for me. We shared some stories, shared a beer. I wore my Captain America Smile. It's always strange to me to hear how similar but how different our experiences were. Stranger still to hear how people perceived me, mostly still do. Those feelings, the way people imagine Captain America to be, have only grown stronger in these last decades.

It's like I died 20 years ago, yet some version of me became immortal.

There was Captain America and there was Steven Rogers. Captain America was a propaganda poster, a figment, a smiling face, and Steven Rogers was a young man in the 1940s who dreamed of being a cartoonist and ended up a soldier. Both of them were dead but I was still around. Twenty Five years old in 1968. Built like a brick shit house, pardon my French, walking through the streets of San Francisco on New Years Eve feeling sorry for myself and feeling guilty for feeling sorry for myself when so many of my brothers were dead.

I ran through a list of names as I walked. Not knowing where to go or what to do. That list grows so long. I knew it was longer than I realized. Common sense told me it had grown considerably longer while I was a popsicle. I felt tears running down my cheeks, but slowly and sparsely, stubborn. I fought them back but it was a losing fight. I was a mess. Survivor's guilt, maybe, but naming it didn't change anything. Dum Dum helped, I knew I wasn't alone. I knew I had a purpose, or at least there was a purpose Dum Dum envisioned for me, but I felt this great pressure pushing down on me.

Dum Dum he wanted me out there, wanted me building a new life, leading the future. All I wanted was to sleep. I knew it then but would never admit it, I wanted to return to the ice. To where Bucky was smiling that goofy smile, Peggy was shooting me those eyes of hers, Dum Dum was right there at my side backing my every play. All my other brothers, we were young and we were doing the right thing. The life of Steve Rogers instead of whoever the fuck I was now.

I kept walking, I made it back home, and I climbed in to bed. I'd won the war tonight. I was still kicking. Tomorrow would be another battle. At least I had my shield back.
Thiago Proudfoot of The Sauerabfel Hills

Age: 31

Gender: Male

Race: Halfling



Background: Thiago comes from a long line of builders. His family built into the hills of Sauerabfel for decades and learned precisely how to develop things to be safe, solid, and homey. Placing trees in a natural way and at the proper distances that their roots would grow strong to support themselves, the hills, and the earthen homes of his people. Managing water that they might easily water their crops, swim in lakes, and nap beside rivers. Dotting bushes and flowers about to draw in visitors. Lovely.

That would have been his life as well were it not for the fall. Sauerabfel relied on trade and tourism and had never had any issue drawing either. It had been bustling in time of plenty but when the wars came and kingdoms fell it quickly followed. Some families left for the protection of a larger city. Others sold off their goods and fled to try to support family elsewhere. It was as a rock rolling down a hill gathering speed as it goes. Fewer and fewer halflings, fewer travelers, and soon the roads grew too dangerous for even larger traders.

Thiago was one of the last to leave that might actually have a shot at establishing himself elsewhere. If there were anywhere left to establish. He left behind an all but deserted Sauerabfel Hills, populated only by those too old to leave and a few small families hoping to hide out in the smaller more hidden burrows.

He wants to build again. To participate in establishing a new home for himself and perhaps eventually resettle the remaining halflings of Sauerabfel or maybe at some far flung date even return to the hills with a team and bring it back to life.

Inventory:




Goals: Thiago wants to ensure that future generations of his people have a safe place to gather and that their culture is not lost. He believes he would make a fine leader and harbors aspirations to one day return to the Sauerabfel Hills to rebuild it and become mayor of it. He can almost see himself walking through the hills, waving to visitors from lands near and far, garbed in some sort of stately robe. Holding fine feasts, carousing with representatives from lands near and far. It seems so impossibly far off the way the world is now, but he's a halfling and so if there is one thing he has it is hope.
Welcome to the Inaugural Edition of the RPGWC Monthly Short Story Contest.

The concept is as follows:

- A prompt is chosen
- Folks have one month to write a short story based on that prompt and submit it as well as a new idea for a prompt anonymously
- Every one who participated votes on which story was best, not voting for their own story as that is super weak and against the rules
- Explaining why you chose which story you voted for is encouraged as is constructive criticism
- A winner is chosen and gets to chose the prompt for the next month from the suggestions that month and any previous ones
- The winner may choose to let folks know he/she won or remain anonymous
- At the end of the year maybe we see who won the most or maybe not, it's mostly just for funsies and to develop our writing

Prompts could be things as simple as Universal Themes like Loss, Love, Balance, or Time. Prompts might also be Settings like Wild West, Fantasy, CyberPunk, Warhammer or a combination of things if you want to be more specific. You might also make the narrative style part of the prompt, like First Person, Third Person, Third Person Omniscient, or Unreliable Narrator. I will maintain a list of previous prompts that were not chosen here in the Opening Post so that folks can more easily look back at past options if they win or if they just feel like writing up a short story. If you do that please let me know.

You can write stories that connect with one another or with each others if you want to or completely stand alone stories, but do try to make them self contained. You don't need to solve every mystery you might introduce in the story so cliff hangers are fine, but try to make stories that have some sense of closure at the end so that it is a complete short story even if the greater story continues on.

The first Monthly Contest will start immediately and conclude at the beginning of April 25th to allow time for voting.

The prompt chosen by group vote for the first month is
"Campfire Stories Made Real" which was suggested by Kalleth



Happy Writing! Tell Your Friends! Tip Your Bartender!
Just an expression of interest before I go to sleep.

Probably a Halfling. Maybe a cook if there's a position for non combatant characters. If not that like an Alchemisty Rogue sort.

I figure in a world taken over by evil Halflings are desperate for a nice green field and a place to call home. Probably still making the best of whatever dank dingy hidey hole they can find. Still trying to bring a little light. Sounds good to me.
I will post up the contest later this week, but for anyone thinking of joining in just going to call it now and say the prompt is going to be
"Campfire Stories Made Real"
I've got an idea for a character, based on a Deadlands campaign NPC character.

I'll try to find some materials from the module he was in but...

Native American Shaman Gunslinger
Wears a Blood Caked Confederate Jacket with Scalps sewn into it
Carries a strange length of rope

Edit:

I can't bloody well seem to find him, but I've got a vague recollection and I'll make up the rest.
Amnesia by Bango

"I was going to make an entry,
I forgot"
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