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  • Old Guild Username: Fox Hound
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    1. Fox 11 yrs ago

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Eh, looks like @VoiD hasn't been on at all today. Probably just busy still.
Roll1: 12
Roll2: 5
Roll3: 30
Roll4: 100
Roll5: 73
Roll6: 69

https://www.roleplayerguild.com/campaigns/342


Might be a bit more helpful if you included which designations you're rolling for (i.e: Powers, Stats & Extras, Devices). The numbers alone don't do anything special without the corresponding tables.
@Clever Hans Nice! This can definitely make for an interesting character. So many possible combinations that go well together. I'll work on it and let you know what I come up with. In the meantime, I do have a question unrelated to the results themselves. To what end are we able to add a self-created power to the mix? Is it something everyone is entitled to or only those who seem to have drawn the oddest straw combo, as it were? I only ask because even though my character will have a veritable treasure trove of abilities to work with, I'm sure others may not be as thrilled.

...I do not know what a dice campaign is or how to use it.

I never used one before either, but once you figure it out, it's extremely convenient.
If you click any of the links we've posted for our dice campaigns, you'll go to the page displaying our rolls (or in Clever Hans' case, lack there of). Instead of trying to use his, simply click the "Dice Campaigns" tab located at the top between the "Home" tab and the campaign display tab. Then the bright green "New Campaign" button, title it something appropriate (you can give it a description if you'd like too. I added my roll order there just for congruency), and submit. This will take your new campaign where you can enter the parameters in the "New Roll" section. This is the fun part. Roll your 100-sided die (1d100) and label each roll appropriately (i.e: Roll 1: Powers). When you're done you can post your link and the results as you've seen me or Illiren do.

Hope the walkthrough was helpful and useful.
@Clever Hans Commence waiting process.
I would love to be a part of this.

Edit:
I didn't know how to (or if we even could) edit the one you presented, so my roll campaign is located below. Ignore 4728. I accidentally used a 10-sided die instead.
roleplayerguild.com/campaigns/339

Roll Total ID
Roll 1: Power 61 4725
Roll 2: Power 82 4726
Roll 3: Stats & Extras 38 4727
Roll 5: Stats & Extras 80 4730
Roll 4: Stats & Extras 46 4729
Roll 6: Weakness 71 4731
Herakles Leventis

Herakles tried to listen intently as he scanned the treeline, its depths looking ever more treacherous, but his thoughts were a mad jumble. Sweat gathered on his brow, threatening to sting at his eyes as it inched its way downward. The warm summer sun blazed, glistening off of the pooling blood already matting the steed's maple coat. He couldn't believe how much there was. Try as he might to look away, his eyes were fixed on the motionless form slumped before him. How foolish he was to have allowed himself to be lulled into this false sense of security. And his foolishness had now cost a man his life.

The sounds of the river's splashing just behind him drew his focus away for but a moment. His eyes flitted from forest to river and back again as realization struck him like a runaway cart. Should they remain where they were, they'd be pinned without cover against a body of moving water that likely wasn't even passable. Yet he was sure a fate left to the coursing river was a better prospect than being gunned down in the open. No. That would not and could not happen. He wouldn't have another man die here on his account. There wasn't a moment to spare. They would need to act and act fast. Yet even as he tried to move, his feet stood frozen in place. Anxious thoughts plagued his mind as he fought to regain control over himself. How close was the enemy? Were they on horseback? Could the horses make it all the way back to town without first tiring? Would the enemy have thought to cut off their return, hoping instead to catch them beleaguered and fatigued on the road? This far from command, he had no one to ask for leadership. His word would be the final call. Yet even as he went to speak, fear caught his words as they tried to find flight and pulled them back into his gut. The words sat like a pile of stones in the pit of his stomach, heavy and laden with guilt. He could hear the pounding of his own heart, now racing faster than his flurrying thoughts.

"Sir!" He finally heard the man, voice at a shout, yet it sounded distant. Hero had called him now for the third time as the other men looked on wide-eyed and mouths agape. All of them stood, shocked into silence, as pressure to do something —anything— grew all the more pressing. Morale was flagging drastically. His men were relying on him and he was failing them. Failing to think. Failing to speak. Failing to move.... Failing to do. The stakes in this moment were too high. Failure was not an option. It was either do or die for these daring dragoons. Slowly, but surely he felt his wits coming back to him. His breath began to steady, his legs to cooperate. Precious moments had already been wasted with inaction and the time to respond to the unfolding events was quickly ebbing away. He hazarded another glance at the thicket menacing before them, then turned to address his men, voice faltering slightly.

"You're right, Hero.. There's little time. On me!" He shouted, a lump in his throat. "We're moving down the road back towards the garrison, but the moment you see me veer towards the forest, be quick to do the same. We'll dismount, tie up our horses, and lay in wait for our pursuers." His face was set in a steel-hard grimace, jaw clenched, trembling, eyes cast ahead. To stand and fight with the odds so thoroughly stacked against them would be utter madness. Yet it would hardly be less crazy to attempt to ride all the way back praying to go unmolested. No, they would have to take the fight back to the enemy in a show of force they couldn't possibly expect. He swallowed hard, spurring his ride into a gallop.

Low to the ground, preying at the edge of the forest, and concealed behind shrubbery Herakles waited patiently. His eyes were peeled for the slightest movement, diligently glued to the roadway. He had two shots ready in his double-barreled carbine and his pistol drawn beside him. His men knelt in preparation, Costas and Barsenis just beside him, while Speros and Hero watched the forest behind them for a sign. The death of Danius weighed heavily on each man present, but some combination of a drive for revenge and —the stronger one still— to survive kept the men alert. There would be blood spilt for the blood lost, but more than that none among them wanted to find themself buried alongside him in the morrow.
@FoxThanks very much! I write from personal experience which helps. Granted I never served as an 18th Century Cavalryman, but you get the idea.

I have been enjoying your chaps slow growth as a leader, it is well done.

And, lordy lordy, an ambush!!


Thanks, it's been a delicate balance trying to find ways to make his character engaging and relatable. His story arc is a classic, but I want to be sure to tell it well.

Great post again. Definitely looking forward to more from Francisco.
@The Wyrm, you do such a fantastic job capturing finer details and making sure they bring weight to the narrative. I envy that.
Herakles Leventis

He watched closely as Karras deliberated in his mind the pros and cons of his proposal. He had prepared himself to witness the lieutenant balk at the audacity of this uppity, low born git; to hear the storm of laughter erupt from his commanding officer, interrupted only by snorts and guffaws. He knew not to expect such outspoken derision, but the thought loomed to the forefront of his mind as he stood before the lieutenant's desk. With every passing moment he felt increasingly tense, yet he mustered a look of unwavering resolution as he dared to look the man across from him in the eyes. He searched them, seeking the betrayal he found in the eyes of Philolakes, but found no such thing. Karras was genuinely taking the plan's merit into consideration. The man's countenance was a difficult thing to untangle, but, admittedly, Herakles and his training program had made it further than the skeptic in him had foreseen. What felt like an eternity stretched in relative silence before the next words were uttered, but Herakles stood a slight bit taller as he watched the lieutenant nod. He listened intently, a rush of relief and even encouragement surging through him as he heard the conditions. Nary a mention was made of his lineage or its supposedly inherent shortcomings. Instead he was praised for exhibiting traits above his station. After the hours he'd put in these past two and a half weeks to make himself ready to lead his men, he was confident he wouldn't fail. In fact, he welcomed the lieutenant's observation. For all the toughness the man exuded, there was a pattern of purposefulness apparent in his every decision. Herakles looked on in muted admiration. This was a man from whom he could learn much.

Since that meeting a month had come and gone, and with it the aches and pains of his adjustment to military life. The habit of rising and readying himself earlier than the others was now thoroughly cemented in Herakles' routine. His demanding schedule felt increasingly less so as he settled into an easy rhythm. Even his time in the library grew to be less daunting as the collection of detailed notes he'd begun to compile grew to a respectable size. It seemed that things were falling into place exactly as they should. Until, that is, the rhythm was interrupted abruptly by the Captain's announcement. A declaration of war had been made and they were to deploy posthaste. The reception of this news was a mixture of apprehension and excitement throughout the Bandon. For most the premature call to arms was a complete surprise, but for Herakles the impending war's arrival was already a foregone conclusion. He had seen the steady increase in demand for munitions coming into his father's workshops and known it was only a matter of time before those arms were put to use. Still, he couldn't help but wish for another few long weeks of training. Both he and his men had come quite a long way, but were they indeed ready to assume the weight of this duty?

Time would tell.

In the span of a week doubt was forced aside by the organized bustle of deployment. It wasn't long before Herakles found himself in the Lochagos' office, pen and paper in hand, as he took note of his assignment. He listened carefully to the other squads' designations, as well, as he rendered a crude sketch of the map laid out before them. All said, the assignment was rather straightforward and should prove a simple, if not time consuming, task. With no questions, he pocketed his notebook, drew himself to attention, and delivered a sharp salute before departing to his men to inform them of their mission.

The next day his men were assembled a half hour early, ready for inspection. As he examined each man closely he could see their nerves, but he could also see that they had the presence of mind to check their arms without reminder. In fact, he didn't have a correction to make. Since he'd met them the men before him had become sharp-eyed and well organized; well on their way to becoming marksmen in their own right. These men truly were not the same wide-eyed recruits to whom he'd been introduced nearly two months ago. And, likewise, he, too, was a different man. Whatever awaited them on the road ahead, they would be ready for it.

As the early morning light crept onto the men's faces Herakles saw what he imagined was the same pride he felt reflected on their faces. "Fellows, the task before us is one for which we are more than prepared, but do not allow that thought to make you complacent. We will make all necessary preparations as we embark, knowing that our primary objective is to protect any forces whose duty it is to travel our route from the surprise of an enemy attack. In this we will be thorough, for a success here, when it is simple, will guarantee further success further afield." He looked to Danius, whose age and maturity had allowed him to take on more responsibility quite easily, and Hero, a young man from the capital city whose bright mind had surprised Herakles. "Danius, Hero, you two will ride ahead, staying vigilant for enemy presence and report back every hour on the hour. Take note of defensible positions and keep a wary eye out for secure hiding places. Should you encounter opposing forces, report back immediately for reinforcement. Be sure not to venture too far, either. It wouldn't do to have your warning arrive too late." He watched as they nodded, their mission clear. "Speros, you will be with me. Our task will require an attention to detail that I have found you to exhibit most intuitively. We must follow the river, documenting potential crossing points, no matter how unlikely, before reporting back to the commander." Next he turned to Barsenis and Costas, easily the best shots among his men. "Costas, Barsenis, you will bring up the rear. While the whole of our attention," he gestured to himself and Speros, "is occupied by our reconnaissance, you two will have the duty of securing our immediate area and our flanks. There will be little but open and hilly field between the river and the road. Keep an open eye, all the same."

Their mounts brayed impatiently as they watched Danius and Hero take off. The painstakingly slow pace that awaited the remainder of the group was one they would simply have to accept. The rest of the day would involve dismounting, wading into the river to test soil composition for stability and measure the slope of the bank, all the while noting any obstacles that might make crossing difficult or impossible. As he tracked the flow's speed and notated the width, he remembered accounts of battles lost and won thanks to thorough groundwork. That, alone, was enough to fuel him to continue onward. Every detail was included in the Cornet's notebook, which snapped shut and returned to his pack after they'd made their fourth stop.

"Speros, I must say, I admire your spirit. You seem to have an understanding that the soul must discipline the body and not the other way around. If a man is to find a firm resolve and a steady hand, he must first find that calm within." He remarked gently as he returned to his horse, wringing the water from his trousers.
Sorry to divert the thread from this meaningful discussion, but I expect to have a post out today (most likely within the next hour or two).
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