Avatar of Durandal
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    1. Durandal 10 yrs ago

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8 yrs ago
Current The boys are back in town
8 yrs ago
You load sixteen tons and what do you get?
1 like
9 yrs ago
Die for the Emperor, or die trying.
2 likes
9 yrs ago
Took some political alignment and bias tests today. I think the results were skewed.
1 like
9 yrs ago
You are what you dare, or so some say. Don't be that guy who is forever after known as the one who set his pants on fire.
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Most Recent Posts

Finished.

<Snipped quote by Durandal>

C'Ran?


Nope. Honestly have no idea if I'm going to join. Even if I did, I'm using something different.

Edit: I'll be hanging around, though
Interstellar pirates, prepare to meet interstellar policing
Cricket cricket
(forgottenrealms.wikia.com/wiki/Waterdeep I think utilizing the larger number for population would be prudent given it is both more recent and published directly by Wizards of the Coast. Would you mind if I made some arbitrary decisions as to the number of mages and priests given the rather fixed population so that I maybe able to compete on a larger scale or should some sort of strange composite Waterdeep be formed which hosts many more people from varying time periods?)

Faction Name: Waterdeep
Origin: The Forgotten Realms
Faction Type: City-State
Faction Rank: (work in progress, the GM will give you this)
Color: Dark Purple
Assigned GM: (Which GM is governing you and controlling the surrounding NPCs?)
Starting Area:
D4

Faction Introduction:
The City-State of Waterdeep hails from Faurûn on the planet Toril, one of the largest and most influential cities on the continent. Through its ports ran countless ships hailing from the north and south, east and west. Caravans and trade markets were to be found throughout the city, and numerous guilds and organizations called the magnificent city home. Despite losing some of its fame during the Sundering and being replaced by Baldur's Gate in regards of importance, Waterdeep is nevertheless a cosmopolitan city full of wonders and darkness.

Ruled over by the Lords of Waterdeep, a secretive council which rules openly but hides the identities of its members, an efficient City Watch, soldiery, and Magisters maintain order in the city very efficiently, making order among what would otherwise be chaos. Although the Lords rule in technicality, one could say that it is the guilds of Waterdeep that truly control the city.

Waterdeep arrived by chance, a reaction spurred by a series of events across the planes. With the Sundering, planar barriers weakened. A mispronounced spell b a lowly mage would cause one of these barriers to open. Unwittingly, a priest attempted a summoning and shuttled the city of Waterdeep through the barrier, depositing all in Ardessen. And so begins the story of Waterdeep.

Faction Strengths:
-Large number of magic users and priests with access to divine powers
-Abundance of trading vessels (assuming those in and around the port were transported with Waterdeep)
-Professional military and police force with access to magical equipment
-Surge of technological development due to the Spellplague
-Able diplomats, mages, priests, warriors, merchants, etc. available to Waterdeep
-DnD spells OP (do not take seriously...in most cases)

Faction Weaknesses:
-Minimal research into gunpowder, firearms considered collector's items and hazardous to use
-Disappearance of trade routes will harm city initially
-Lack of large-scale mobility due to lack of flight/steam vessels and teleportation being costly and usually limited in magnitude
-Low tech level




Edit: @Orcus All hail the Dragon Reborn, Lord of the Morning. Kudos.

Army list and such will come when I have a bit more clarification
You, sir, have caught my interest. At this rate, looks to be a potentially large party.
Durandal is here.
Fifteen miles south of Varisso, late evening
Council of Servants

Stars glittered faintly in the sky, drowned out partially by man-made lights in the region; with the siege of Varisso, however, many of those lights had ceased to exist for the moment, allowing more stars than usual to appear in the sky. As it was, the scene was breathtaking in comparison to the sky under normal conditions.

Underneath this sky, sequestered in a shaded glen, a group of sixteen people met once again. Reunited for the first time in over two years, the men and women of the group knew each other well, as their mothers and fathers had known each other. Seated inside a large canvas tent, some recounted their tales and the tales of their predecessors, while others simply waited, sometimes eating or drinking small amounts before listening once again.

A lanky man with a sharp, thin face stood up suddenly. He wore a fine suit of grey and white, fashioned of high quality cotton, with his shimmering black hair tied at the nape of his neck. Clearing his throat, he began to speak, "Friends, thank you for attending this meeting. Too long has it been since we last saw each other. Some of you may not recognize me by sight, and as such allow me to introduce myself. I am Feldrick Jethro, elected to the position of First Councilor almost three years ago. I won't waste your time with explaining who we are and what we aim to accomplish since being here is proof of your knowledge. However, I will tell you that the time has come to act lest we lose the initiative. With much of Noravea in turmoil, now will be our best opportunity to grow. Dierks can explain what he has devised better than me. Dierks."

With a nod towards Feldrick, Dierks rose. A stout, swarthy man whose hair was sprinkled with grey and silver, he began to lay out the plans which he, along with the Second Marshall, Stewards, and Councilors, had devised. It would be almost three hours before the meeting ended, all informed of the state of affairs and what their parts of the plan were. That night, encrypted radio messages would be sent out across Noravea, although primarily to other groups in Pomorum. The return had begun.


Lichterhoff, Avalonia, late evening
Verin Lath


Verin cursed at the car as she trundled along the road. Headlights illuminated out to fifty feet, but they would flicker every once in a while, sometimes dying for several seconds before restarting. Whoever had "fixed" the car obviously hadn't known what they were doing. Or they expected Verin to come back and pay even more money to fix the headlights. Maybe both. Greedy mechanic bastards.

Checking the map in the front passenger seat and then glancing at a nearby sign, Verin sighed in relief. "I thought I would never find this place for a moment. Though it is a fairly large town," she muttered quietly, maneuvering through the dirty streets towards the lights of the central factory. It was fairly common knowledge that the Lichterhoff factory produced a good amount of explosives, many going to the miners out in the mountains to expedite the excavation process. Though she had received no direct orders as of yet, she believed that explosives always made a good present to your superiors. Thinking through that thread further, she laughed. Yes, good presents indeed.

Halting in front of the factory complex, she put her car into park before extracting the keys, dropping them into the left pocket of her brown duster. Walking into the fenced area through the main gate, she admired the red of the sky before stepping into the administration building. Spotting a receptionist, she stalked up to the dusty man. Pulling out a set of documents indicating her position as a contractor for one of the companies in Avalonia, she said, "I need to see your boss about some supplies." Bored and obviously used to being treated in a brusque manner, he gave a cursory inspection of the papers, eyes glazed over, before motioning her through the back.

Inside sat a tired-looking man, shadows pooling under his eyes. Closing the door, Verin sat in a tattered chair before drawing out a sheet of paper work. "I'm sorry to disturb you at this hour," she started. "But I need to requisition some mining explosives." The man sighed heavily before reaching over to take the information forms, rubbing his eyes quickly before reading the pertinent information.

"And why would I be letting you have these? Usually the explosives are paid for beforehand. Although Lord knows I've had to deal with this quite often."

Thinking quickly, she took ahold of an excuse. "We're excavating a new tunnel which may strike a rich vein of ores, but can't divert enough of our current stock of explosives to dig it effectively."

"As long as you bring it back. I'll have Richard bring half a crate of mining dynamite to your vehicle," he finished, seemingly dismissing her. Standing up, she gathered up the papers, some of them forged, and returned to her car to discover a man waiting with the promised explosives. Unlocking the truck, she instructed him to place it there. After he had left, she secured the crate with a rope and fire-resistant cloth before climbing into the cab. Now what to do with half a crate of explosives? she pondered as she drove off.


Presford, Pomorum, late night
Karls Bentley


Karls stalked through the bushes, accompanied by fifteen others armed with various rifles and improvised camouflage. Having left a stolen vehicle about a mile back, the group advanced slowly upon the encampment at Presford. Home to thousands of reservists, it had fallen to Bentley's camarilla to investigate the staging ground further. Looking behind, he motioned Mora Haj forward before indicating a finger towards the pseudo train station. A train sat dark on the rails, stretching back quite a distance, but it was the central area which interested Karls.

Pulling out a pair of binoculars while Mora peered through a sniper scope, Karls examined the large number of vehicles. Dozens of trucks, many unarmored troop transports, waited in groups, attended by numerous mechanics. Guards patrolled persistently yet apart from them...no one seemed to carry weapons. Sighting a prefabricated building, his eyes strained to make out the shape of a pad lock guarded by two men. One of the guards walked up to a desk of sorts outside before turning in his weapons. A brief glimpse inside showed a large supply of firearms.

Inspecting the camp swiftly, it showed various signs of a group preparing to move, especially when one considered what appeared to be a command center of sorts, people moving in and out quickly, dispersing to all areas of the camp. Backing up and remaining prone, he quietly ordered the camarilla to move back towards the vehicles. The army of reservists was preparing for something. But what?


Outside Keldmoor, early morning
Joakim Ilic


Darkness covered most of the land yet, though the tinges of morning could be seen on the horizon, a slight lightening of the sky. Behind him, the rest of his camarilla stood quietly around two minivans, conducting quiet conversations from time to time. Turning around he said, "I want four of you in the second minivan, two with me in the first. The rest of you, advance to the predetermined observation positions. I want this recon to go quick and clean so don't mess up."

As eight people scurried off to set up with binoculars or some sort of scoped weapon, Joakim hopped into the driver's seat of the front minivan, a small, beige contraption showing signs of wear. Shifting gears, the car slowly advanced through the trees, Joakim mindful of not damaging or trapping the car in any manner. Popping out onto the road, the second minivan followed shortly after. He pressed down the accelerator and began to head up towards the dam. Each person in the van carried a pistol on their persons but those were meant to be last ditch weapons.

The town of Keldmoor rested as the two vehicles traveled through it, although some signs of activity could be seen. Turning up the road towards the dam, a sign greeted them declaring the road on the dam off limits to all civilian travel. Continuing forward, Joakim took a turn near the dam, slowing down in order to observe the blockage. Resting on the road were several tank traps, machine gun nests occupying the side of the road. A few soldiers stood in a huddle in one of the nests, conversing among themselves. A building then stole line of sight, and Joakim pondered the situation.

half an hour later

Dismounting from the minivan, Joakim ensured that all members of the camarilla were present before continuing. "Those of you that took up the observation posts, anything of note to report."

A middle-aged man with brown hair stepped forward. "Some kind of net seems to be draped across the river underneath the damn. I couldn't make much of it out, but it seems to be attached to buildings on the side of the river." Two other corraborated his report.

"And the other entrance to the road on the dam?" Joakim asked.

"Blocked as well," answered one.

Shaking his head, Joakim opened the back of one of the minivans to access the encrypted radio hidden there. The Council would not like his report.

Perhaps he's nobility. Perhaps not. We'll see. ;)
And thank you.
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