glibglobb

Blight [OOC]

@Tali That's still up for grabs. Whoever gets there first can write him or her.

@All Ok here is where we stand, tell me if I'm missing anything super important....

SUMMARY

The Unseelie gang lead by Zemun Donavan an alfar otherwise known as the Prince is looking for a changeling. Needle, a psychotic pixie is also seeking the same changeling and has learned she is taking refuge at the Boggart's Hole a bar which appears to be somewhat of a neutral ground between the warring factions in the Blight. Meanwhile, the brothel experienced an incident with a girl attacking one of her customers which may or may not come back to haunt them. Into all of this comes walking a strange being, possibly a fomori, whose motivation and reason for travelling to Drezlen remains unclear. A half grey elf who experienced a crisis of conscience has received a proposal from the Prince also directing him towards the Boggart's Hole <cough> set piece <cough>. Overshadowing everything is the looming vote over proposition 9, a reform referendum which would give fairies more freedom of movement in the city. The proposition has all the hard liners in the city on red alert.

Blight [OOC]

@Tali So Donavon, who I'm also going to make synonomous with the prince the goblins were talking about in scene 1, will be the leader of one of the major faery gangs in the Blight, involved in thievery, gambling and the glam trade. The wyldling gang are humans vying with them for territory and resources. They would need to have their own leader.

@februari Information on firearms is kind of dispersed throughout the intro. Essentially think 1860s. Poor people like trappers and farmers will still be using muskets, flintlocks and barrel loading rifles. Those with the money, however, or those in the military/police will have access to revolvers and lever action rifles. There may be gatling guns but only available for the military. Also remember that archaic weapons persist because lead bullets do little to many fae, fomori and magical creatures. It would be difficult or impossible to bring down a charging troll with a gun. For that you need a steel or iron weapon and you can't make steel or iron bullets because the metal is too hard. Hence the continuing use of swords and maces, especially by those who live in or police the Blight.

For those who want to know why complex machines like mechanical walkers exist, but not complex firearms like assault rifles, click the spoiler. There's a good reason.

limitations of firearms

The limited complexity of gun actions comes from the fact that they're alchemical in nature. Alchemical reactions like the explosion of blue powder in a cartrige always release some amount of energy as wild magic. Wild magic is chaotic in nature and as a result fouls the workings of complex, highly refined mechanisms. Even revolvers and pump actions must be designed to isolate the moving parts from the reaction lest they jam. More complex guns have been devised, the equivalent of modern machine guns, but due to the wild magic inherent in alchemy they always wind up malfunctioning after a few shots. Steam driven machines like striders (mechapods) can be far more complex because the wyld magic is isolated to the engine boiler and expelled int he exhaust, all far from the complex gear systems which distribute the engine's power.

@Rata Looks good, accepted. I like your expansion of the faery glamer into being able to transmit weightlessness to other objects. Definitely fits with the lore. You posted before I accepted your character, but frankly so long as it isn't an awful post I don't really care.

Blight [OOC]

Excellent point, K-97.

Blight [OOC]

@februari Excellent write up. One thing, though, can we change Zemum's last name to Donovon so he can be the gang leader attempting to retain Kalan's services. This will help tie things together nicely and start grouping some PCs.

Blight [OOC]

Here are the sunrise/nightfall images. I'm going to dial back on posting images to IC so they should stand out and keep everyone aware of time flow.

Blight [OOC]

Okay so K-97's post, which was excellent btw, reminded me I need to explain something. At the end of my first post, I introduce the Grey Elven concept of a jacta, an error in thought. All a jacta is is a logical fallacy. Ad hominem, argumentum ad populum, argumentum ad temperantiam, appeal to authority, slippery slope, they are all jactas. The Grey Elves, being a rational people, are obsessed with formal logic. The slippery slope jacta, the nel dwekar, happens when you argue against a position based not on that position, but on its possible (often questionable) consequences. Slippery slope is common as an argument against gay marriage when the con position claims it will lead to bestiality. That's slippery slope.

The irony in that scene was that the elf actually used the slippery slope!! His argument contained the fallacy when he argued that the fae can not be given any freedom because it will lead to full integration. He essentially used that fallacy to manipulate the mayor the way a sophist rather than a logician applies logic.

Don't worry if the above is Greek to you. Philosophy and logic is not an overarching theme of the game, it's just a theme for the Grey Elves.

Blight [OOC]

No rush on the posts guys, better you take your time

Blight [OOC]

Love the IC posts so far, by the way. Don't be alarmed that I'm all over the place with my posts. I always do that initially in order to give people a broad sense of the setting. As the game continues my posts will contract to focus on the players and major NPCs.

Time is always a problem in forum RP, so I thought I might try something different in order to keep people on the same page (chronologically speaking) by posting a standard image of a sun and moon in the IC as time passes. It would be an analog of the day/night counter that you see on the status bar of many classic CRPGs like Baldur's Gate and Neverwinter Nights. Does this sound like a good or a bad idea?

Blight [OOC]

Greesh rolled his short body beneath the bent legs of the mechapod. While the gnome fiddled in the mechanical guts of the steam automoton, he caught sight of a rat scurrying through the shadow cast by the machine. A very human thought crossed his mind, smash the creature with your wrench, but the gnome shook the evil impulse from his head. Around him, human pilots and engineers milled sharing gossip over steaming cups of morning coffee. None knew enough about a mechapod to change a leg hinge sprocket without nicking the femoral hydraulic line. That's why they needed the gnomes. Gnomish mechanics to fix gnomish machines designed by gnomish inventors and all for the glory of the round-ears. It sickened Greesh when he thought to much about it, so he didn't. Instead he focused on his work, unscrewing the central compartment to get at the cardiac grease zerts. While he pumped each steel nipple full of lubricant, he began to feel the ache creep in. Centuries of life in human factories had made his kind among the most resisant to iron and its foul sister steel, but not immune. Being hemmed in on all sides by the gray metal made Greesh's skin crawl and he made sure to wear thick leather gloves before getting close to it. Handling the plates and screws, even with the gloves, was like palming incandescent ingots fresh off the forge. Out of the corner of his google rimmed eye, the gnome saw movement and his fuzzy ears detected a faint squeek. Turning his head slightly he saw his rodent friend, but something was wrong, the rat was floating?

Greesh blinked, suddenly unsure if he was awake or dreaming. Then two eyes materialized, yellow and laughing overtop the levitating corpse. A sleek feline body of violet and black patterned stripes followed, condensing out of the air like furry dew drops on a cool morning. A ceilican, a fae cat. Greesh had never seen one so far outside the Blight and he knew if the humans found a magical creature, they'd slay it instantly. "Shooo," Greesh whispered waving his grease stained gloves at the kitty, "back to the Blight with you." But the cat seemed unconcerned by the little gnome's warnings and instead stood silently, prey between its fangs, looking with wide curious eyes. Only the hard tack of an officers dress shoes on the machine shop floor managed to spook the cat. Greesh sighed in relief watching it run off but quickly inhaled the breath when he saw the ceilican dart right under Major Jenson's dress slacks.

"What was that lieutenant?" the major asked, following the purple flash as best he could across the chaotic floor of the motor pool.

"Oh probably just a stray, sir," explained the straight laced junior officer, "we let them hunt on the grounds, keeps the pest population down."

"I see, well that's good thinking I suppose Darrick. Now about this new schedule..."

"Yes sir, I looked it over and, speaking freely, I'm pleased. Daily drills were never enough."

"Hrrrmmm," the major grumbled, "can't say I agree. Putting our boys through three combat drills a day is only going to make them exhausted and I don't like exhausted men," his eyes lofted up to a massive mechapod, standing on six stout legs the width of tree trunks and shadowing an area the size of a ball field, "at the controls of leviathons."

"You make an excellent point, Major," the lieutenant backpeddled, "but if the new schedule is not to your liking why not...."

"Orders come down from the brass, this new propositions got them more startled than a fat rat at a goblin supper...." The general took in the crowded floor with it's numerous faery workers, gnomes tuning up engines and dwarves hauling ordinance. "And, I can't say I don't understand their concern." He tossed his cigar onto the concrete and ground it out harshly against the stone. "We should just keep all these fae on collars until that law is voted down."

Blight [OOC]

cthulu.... does volunteer work. That brings so many images to mind.