MelonHead

TZDL2017.. BUT ON RPGUILD!

Electricity is a schedule 3 because there are forces within nature or in some of the other profiles that could manage it, but the conditions necessary to actively counter it is impractical and you'd be right; however, high tier amps up the levels of every ability a character has to a degree in where electricity, even to the magnitude of Mitsu, is not only manageable but may actually be somewhat negligible unless he revved it up to their pace. Mitsu is an incredibly strong character, but there are strategies to protect yourself against projectiles that some of us in TZDL already have

vertex.wikia.com/wiki/Auto-Defense

All things considered: even without crimson lightning, electricity is fast and strong enough to be considered "high tier" but it isn't. Argryia's Serenity Redstar had no problems with Mouse's Mitsu Mazono in their exhibition in 2009 and in their quarterfinal match in TZDL2011. I defeated Mitsu Mazono in an exhibition match in 2013 and my character's attacks aren't close to the speed electricity moves. Electricity, by itself, has some gnarly properties and banning it outright isn't exactly fair and would hurt the actual diversity I went for when I made the scheduling system (which got a lot of powers and meta unbanned or deregulated significantly). Roleplaying offers an abundance dimension of craziness you can muster. Mitsu was posted because he represented the power aspect.

@Devil

Upon reading the sheet further I summarised that the user of the ability maybe underplayed their own abilities, as there was reference to 'becoming' a lightning bolt and moving at the speed of 260mph, which we both know is not how fast an actual lightning bolt moves, I assume the ability was used more like a fantasy 'magical bolt of lightning' rather than what we see in a lightning storm.

I can see how an auto-defence mechanic allows you to mitigate attacks such as the one described, I have to confess I'm not overly familiar with auto-defence as the predominant system for fighting used here is the T1 Eden Era system which involves using preps to actively attack and defend. Not to say they're not seen, but usually at the higher levels of play where gunfire and projectiles in general become borderline obsolete without sufficient energy or creativity divulged in their usage.

Ultimately, I'm not really cut out for this tier level of play anyway. I consider myself overall pretty competent at low and mid powered combat, but there is a pretty significant division from logic and real world grounding that one has to basically accept to move into the higher tier of character power. It's all just a little too abstract for me at those power levels, though I will definitely enjoy reading some of the fights that come out of this tournament if it finds its players.

TZDL2017.. BUT ON RPGUILD!

You're offering real money for a roleplay tournament? The salt levels will be off the damn chain. With that in mind, they say never turn a hobby into a job, so I won't be participating, but best of luck.

I have to ask though, what exactly is your definition of high tier? Reading through one of your template characters they seem to have the capacity to fire scaled up lightning bolts, both faster and presumably hotter than an actual lightning bolt in nature. Such an attack is, to my understanding, basically going to auto-connect on any character slower than the speed of light, which seems to stray out of what is commonly known as 'high tier'.

The Rook Versus the ROCK: a Tanking Slugfest.

<Snipped quote by MelonHead>

If that still stands true, i'll be posting. :>

@Vordak

If you think you can handle it, go for it. I have a lot more experience with Rook now though.

Of Blood And Steel: A Savage Earth Roleplay

Will do

Of Blood And Steel: A Savage Earth Roleplay

Chief Ez-Bub

Character Name: Chief Ez-Bub

Age: 42

Sex: Male

Height: 5ft 9”

Weight: 180 Pounds

Alignment: Chaotic Impure

Character Personality: Sinister, dramatic, and often theatrical, Chief Ez-Bub is a master showman and manipulator who maintains a ruthless control over his tribe and its many differing voices. He is a rare example of a fanatic and a true believer in the words he speaks, if this is due to some dark blood connection to the Spider or his own delusions is uncertain.

Casual Appearance: ‘Red-skinned’ with dark brown hair coated in black grease and oil worn tied up as a pony-tail in a warrior’s thong. Ez-Bub is tall by his people’s standards, and as stocky and wide as all of them with a powerfully muscled build. His body is a myriad of scars, none more prominent than the eight self-inflicted burn grooves running across the sides of his face in the pattern of a spider’s legs. He wears a bronze nose ring and his dark brown eyes seem almost black staring out from red-rimmed lids. His garb is that of most of his people, though more ornate and colourful he wears a combination of furs and tough leather, with simple sandals and black ribbons wrapped around his bare ankles and wrists. He goes no-where without two short swords across his back. He wears a large sacrificial knife at his hip, which often drips blood. On his head, he wears a black iron circlet not unlike a crown.

Battlefield Appearance: Ez-Bub goes to battle riding the great Spider. Like all his people he will paint his face with the oil and blood of the spider, and usually adorns himself in scrapped together chainmail. If forewarned of a fight getting to close quarters he will sometimes use a Big Banger, the 8 Legs favoured firearm.

Origin Story: Ez-Bub rose to prominence after defeating the first chief of the tribe, before they were even named the 8 Leg. Back then they were the Long-Haired, and the cause for his brutal usurpation was other a differing opinion in regards to a huge mechanical corpse the tribe happened upon in their nomadic wanderings. Just eighteen years of age at the time, Ez-Bub was born under the sign of the Metal Star, and was gifted with a technical aptitude borne from an internal magic. So it was that when the Chief of the Long-Hair was asked what to do with the great metal skeleton, he cautiously pulled his tribe away. Ez-Bub however had grown enamoured with the great metallic beast, which resembled the body of a huge spider as tall as a tree. Ez-Bub plotted that night, and at the stroke of midnight he challenged and cut down the Chief in a great fury, feeding his heart to the Spider. The Chief was the first of many sacrifices to the great machine, and somewhere in its infernal heart something stirred. The Spider was reborn anew, fuelled by an unholy combination of blood magic and technical expertise, sending plumes of black arid smoke into the clear sky. The noxious smell of burning flesh was to herald its arrival for those few red-skin tribes that still stood in the great valleys. One by one the fell, their cultures lost, eaten up by the 8 Legs Tribe as they came to be known. The great spider led the tribe ever onward, with Chief Ez-Bub at the helm.

Powers (Be Specific): Blood Magic and Ritual
Chief Ez-Bub can use a rudimentary form of Blood Magic, by making sacrifices and coating his body in the blood of his enemies he can access greater strength and speed while making himself resistant to harm of all kinds. More importantly, he can use this ability to power machinery like the great spider, and to bestow upon his warriors bloody ferocity in combat. Lacking the more flashy aspects of other magic, Blood Magic is more of a passive increase to already present abilities and traits. It can be used as a way of corrupting enemy machinery, making them more prone to failure, though this is not something he has had much need to experiment with.

Attributes: Upon Accessing Blood Magic

Strength: The strength of three grown men, Ez-Bub can lift almost a tonne of weight with effort.
Speed: Ez-Bub can run at great speed across the open plain, reaching almost 40mph.
Reaction Time: Heightened to an unholy degree, his reactions peak at 3x human maximum.
Endurance: Naturally resilient to harm and tiredness, his body hardens to all but the most significant mortal wounds.
Agility: Ez-Bub can move at frightening speed for his size and weight, though only tipping into the supernatural.
Intelligence: Questionable, Ez-Bub has a rudimentary knowledge of many matters, but an innate technical gift and a knack for oratory often makes up for it.
Combat Skill: Like all the Long-Hair, now 8 Leg, Chief Ez-Bub is a master of shortswords and as good as one can be with a Big Banger.
Technical Skill: High, if somewhat unrefined. Ez-Bub can work with any machinery he lays his hands on, especially when his Blood Magic is infused with it.

Equipment: Ez-Bub carries two Spider Fangs worn across his back, serrated shortswords usually dipped in poisonous fluid, which leaks out of the Great Spider, before combat. He also carries a cruel sacrificial knife made of obsidian which can cut through flesh like butter.

Resources: The 8 Leg tribe and a giant mechanical Spider

Supporting Characters: Gunner Mo-For, Shaman San-Go, Wife Te-Bub

What is best in life?: To Conquer and to Follow the Path of the Spider!

Sample Post: The Horizon Beckons

The simmering fires and the wailing cries of women and children mourning their dead heralded the end of an era. The last of the so-called free tribes of the southern plains and the Red Teeth mountains crushed underheel. All eight of them. Atop the Great Spider, a mountainous machine that looked like a perverted but none-the-less uncanny artificial duplicate of its namesake, the mighty Chief of the 8 Leg tribe surveyed his Kingdom. It was a moving kingdom, made up of the peoples of the plains and the mountains, ferocious warriors, Red Skinned and dangerous to a man and woman. Yet the last of them had fell this day, bowing under the combined might of those who fell before it and the Spider itself, of which he alone was in command. It was a glorious day, and a burning hot tear rolled down his heavily scarred face, carrying the taste of blood and oil and victory into his open mouth as he breathed it in. What a glorious day!

“People of the 8 Legs! Hear me now!” His voice was like a roar of thunder, and beneath him hundreds of warriors looked up at him with the adoration of children for a father. “Another tribe joins our great Kingdom! Their fallen will feed the Spider and their souls will journey to the great beyond where they will await you with feast and story!” He raised his hands and the roar of pleasure rolled across the crowd. It made it so much easier to kill a brother man when one knew what awaited them, paradise. “But we are not done! The Spider would have more of us now! Until this day we fought to unite the tribes, but like the ocean we are now too great to be contained in this place, the horizon beckons! New lands, new conquests, new hearts for the Spider! Come, brothers and sisters, follow the Path of the Spider! Your Chief Commands it!”

The 8 Legs

The 8 Legs (Tribe)


The Great Spider

The most prominent feature of the 8 Legs is the Great Spider, a huge mechanical walker almost a hundred feet tall, 200 feet wide (counting the legs) and 200 feet long. It does, in every respect, resemble a huge spider. Its gears and metallic wiring run its length, worn in some areas, outright broken in others, its movements judder and shudder and by all rights it shouldn’t even work. Yet, it does. Powered by the burning corpses of the fallen, as well as oil and blood, it sends black smoke gushing into the air that can be seen up to a mile away. As one might expect from a apocalyptic tribe riding a giant spider, the 8 Legs have mounted countless weapons batteries to the thing. Primitive anti-air weapons that launch explosives and shrapnel in the sky line the top, gunners sit on the knees of each leg, and the head has a multitude of actual cannons attached which fire explosive balls often loaded with fire or arid poisons. Needless to say, with such a weapons platform at their disposal the 8 Legs have prospered.

Population: The 8 Legs tribe boasts around three thousand people, most of which cluster around the legs of the Spider and under its carapace for shelter and comfort. Large portions of the tribe however march out ahead and behind as scouts and hunters, bringing back food and captives for the Spider.

Culture and weaponry: The culture of the 8 Legs is something akin to hero worship, for the Great Spider and by extension, Ez-Bub. The people are warlike and brutal in every-way, their signature weapons are the spider’s fangs, viciously serrated shortswords usually dipped in poisonous fluids that pool out of the spider itself. They also make use of Big Bangers, rudimentary blunderbusses which are filled with shrapnel that is often poisoned. When combat begins, the Big Bangers are fired in two great bursts, one to shake and kill the enemy, the second to signal the charge. Against a single target, they are next to useless beyond twenty meters, but enmasse against mass, they can be brutally effective even at greater range.

Mechanical and Tribal adaption: The 8 legs is a conglomeration of tribes from the great plain and the Red Teeth mountains, all of which are red skinned warriors. With each new tribe enveloped by the 8 legs the knowledge and techniques of the tribe increase. Each original tribe came with its own skills, and while their culture is lost these skills still persist in the 8 leg tribe, here is a summary of the current tribes within the 8 Legs and the skills they bring.

The Long Hairs: Shortsword masters and quick learners, many of the elites who ride the Spider are of the Long Hair, the original founding tribe, and most are competent mechanics as well.

The Bang Clan: Gunpowder lovers and the first and most difficult conquest of the Long Hairs, though few in number even now the Bang Clan bring their knowledge of explosives and firearms to the 8 Legs and are responsible for all artillery and Big Bangers.

Black Arrows: Master archers, the Black Arrows are hunters by trade with experience in all terrains, they serve as scouts for the 8 Legs and hunter gatherers.

Soana: The Soana are one of the weirder tribes in the 8 Legs, their people are mostly normal but one in every fifty is known as a ‘Spirit Walker’ and materialises odd magical abilities mostly revolving around bartering for control over the elements. Interbreeding has resulted in almost twenty so called Spirit Walkers among the 8 Legs, who have a myriad of horrifying powers.

Plain Runners: The Plain Runner tribe are renowned for their mastery of horsemanship, though the exact nature of their mounts is often somewhat sketchy their ability to breed and train all manner of terrifying and speedy beasts is invaluable. They are also responsible for the large herds of cattle that follow in the Spider’s wake, feeding the people.

Lesser Tribes: Many small tribes conquered along the way exist within the 8 Legs, accounting for its population of almost three thousand people, though they bring no notable skills of their own they are all competent warriors, and many adopt the skills of the other major tribes through a diffusion of skills and training.

Appearance: Red skinned with brown and black hair often matted and covered in grease, oil and blood, the people of the 8 Legs wear furs and scrapped together iron armour, particularly in combat. Their legs and wrists are adorned with blood drenched ribbons, but by far their most fearsome aspect is their warpaint. Before combat, the 8 Legs use the oil and blood that constantly drips down the legs of the spider and from its belly to paint the pattern of a spider’s legs on their faces. It is the sacrificial blood they adorn themselves with which attests for their ferocity in combat, shirking lethal blows to continue fighting until their bodies die.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

_{banner credit to Hellis}

The Heist - Epilogue

---

Time: ???
Location: ???

A quiet evening in Lost Haven, a phenomenon growing rarer and rarer if recent events were anything to judge by. A gentle late summer rain drizzled on the empty streets outside his apartment window as Lekh took in a cold breath of air. There wasn’t much of a view to look at, but it was one decidedly American. Bright lights, restaurants open at all hours, everything so big and vibrant, gaudy even. For all the trouble this place had got him into, he found he wasn’t surprised to realise he was going to miss it. With a rare melancholic sigh, he turned from the sill. Fingers deftly typed out a message to the closest thing he had to a friend in Lost Haven.

Miss F,
If it is not too inconvenient, do you think you could meet me at the docks in LH, wharf five, early tomorrow morning? Say, six o’clock? Bring the medicine if you could. Thank you.

-L

Lekh walked through an empty apartment, stripped of any sign of his presence, only the bed remained untouched as he slumped into it, waiting patiently for a reply.

The reply came a little over five minutes later, as per usual with old styled emoticons throughout the message.


-`ღ´- Good timing~! -`ღ´-
The medicine is ready for you.
☀ See you in LH bright and early ☼
~*~<3~*~

In bed early for the night for once, upon her return to Paris she had plenty of work to catch up on. Fey were waiting on her while the Syndicate was in need of her specialized transport. It was good to be home but it seemed like she was being pulled in every direction. Odette had barely heard her phone’s text tone, she had long ago set a special tone for Lekh, even dredged from sleep she was able to reply. She had been wondering when he would be calling to see the fruits of their labour from Las Vegas. She squinted at the screen, rubbing the heel of her hand against her eye. The docks? Discreet and no one would be around that early but was he planning a trip?

Tossing the smartphone back onto her nightstand after setting an alarm she rolled back over.

She would find out in the morning.

--- The Next Morning ---

Bright and early might have been a tad optimistic. Overcast and dreary was a little more fitting a description of the day, Lekh thought. He walked outside of his apartment, raising a hand to flag down a cab as he dragged a small suitcase full of his belongings behind him. Unceremoniously dumping the suitcase in the boot of the taxi he sat in the front and nodded to the driver.

“The docks, please.”

“Whatever you want bud.”

A short while later Lekh stepped out onto the docks. He glanced at his old-fashioned watch, checking he was still on time. It was just six o’clock now, so he had made it on time to meet the Ambassador, among other things. He looked around for her at the entrance to the wharf itself, where a large transport vessel sat slowly warming up as its crew bustled about making final checks.

A couple storeys above The Ambassador had made her perch having arrived ten minutes prior, her outfit was on the more subdued side. Her sleeveless dress was dark grey-brown with a thin black leather belt just above her waist, on her shoulders she wore a long black shawl, accessorising with a vintage necklace and few rings. Never without her small clutch purse slung around her shoulder. She had seen Lekh arrive and hopped down from the rooftop when the cab pulled away. The only activity was seemingly on the ship. She had decided again, despite of the last instance she went without Bach’s presence, to meet him alone.

“Bon matin, Monsieur. Right on time, as usual.” She greeted him, wearing a smile.

Lekh acknowledged her with a curt nod and a tight smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. His apparel was far less stylish than her own, comfortable clothes, the sort one might wear if they planned to travel. He lifted a hand and stopped in front of her, drawing his little suitcase to a stop behind his feet.

“Bonsoir, Madame, there is never an excuse for tardiness.” He laughed at the pointless platitude. “You look well, Odette, better than me at any rate.” He spoke the truth, there was still a greyish pallor to his already far too pale skin, a gunshot wound tended to lend itself to fever and illness for a good while, and Lekh was far from fully recovered even now.

“Thank you, it doesn’t take much time for me to recover from a rough fight. A good night sleep and a good meal then I’m back to normal. Yet you still insist on recovering of your own merit than relying on the salve.” She commented, gesturing to his abdomen. “I understand why, but it still is a strange choice to me. I suppose you and I will never really see eye to eye on that.” It was silly to opt out of using a healing salve, in spite of not trusting it. Odette knew she wouldn’t use something when she didn’t know the exact consequences of it. Magic often came at a high price. She chewed at the inside of her cheek.

“I trusted your magic once and it burned me, lessons learned harshly are not soon forgotten.” Lekh shrugged.

Admitting to being a hypocrite wasn’t what they were here for today, anyway.

She looked over her shoulder at the ship then asked the obvious question, “So, you’re taking a trip? Will you be coming back to Lost Haven anytime soon?”

“You could say that. I am returning home. Speaking of which, do you have the medicine?”

She nodded, “I suppose you were waiting on this before heading out. Probably for the best you left the city. I heard the gang wars have become rather disruptive.” She kept her eyes on her purse, thinking of Titania’s prophecy. She couldn’t bring herself to kill an ally, especially one she actually liked. As she had promised to Mandate there’s always a way out of a prophecy. Digging into her purse she pulled a clear glass corked bottle with a pink ribbon tied in a bow around the neck. The contents inside the bottle were sparkling blue.

Proudly she held it up and smiled, “I know you’re not one for more technical aspects of magic but this potion is truly a work of art.”

“I brought the unicorn horns and golden fleece to the best potion master I know, he owed me a favour and was happy to help me make this. The unicorn horn has powerful healing properties but alone it can only heal while it is in a person’s system, as soon as it passes the healing aspects go with it.” She said continuing her explanation, “The golden fleece however is what gives the drinker incredible vitality while keeping the effects of the horn actively healing until the body is fully restored. It took some experimentation to be sure it truly did heal the terminally sick. It replaced blood cells, reversed cancer cells, and restored damaged brain tissue and neurons.”

“It’s absolutely incredible. We created our very own Panacea.” She held up the potion for him to take. “The colour of the potion is purely aesthetic. Eric, the potion master, had mentioned it was good luck to add something from your own garden. I added vervain from my garden to give it that blue hue.”

“I hope this will be worth all the trouble we went to.” She chewed at the inside of her cheek once again, still unable to read his expression. “What I can’t seem to understand about you Lekh, is that you say there is no trust in my magic... but here we are. I only assume modern medicine has failed you where magic is now your last resort.” She commented curiously, she gazed at him then quietly asked, “What are you trying to cure?”

“Desperation must sometimes supersede one’s principles, Odette, but you are quite correct. I have spent all these months in Lost Haven siphoning a not unsubstantial amount of money into research, to no avail.” He took the bottle, holding it gently in one hand and opening his suitcase. He crouched down to place it in a sealed pocket with a small padlock, giving it one last glance before he hid it away for the long journey back to Europe.

“As for what I am trying to cure?” He stood up and released his control over his aura for a moment, letting it flood the area around him before sealing it back up. “You know what I can do, imagine experiencing that affect day in and day out without a moment of respite. My family all have a gift of some kind or another, but there is something wrong with my sister’s power. She can hardly move, hardly breathe. I am not a good man, Odette, but I would do anything for my family.”

She felt the affects of his aura momentarily, mild compared to what she had felt before. A reminder really. It took no small stretch of the imagination to figure how such a power turning inward could deteriorate the mind. It answered a few more questions she had been wondering since she had met him, his powers were hereditary. It was a true shame for his sister, a condition that could only have a hope at healing with a miracle. He carried on before she could comment, it was nice to have a peek behind his veil.

“We are different in many ways Odette, I think you can be unnecessarily cruel, I think that your associations with the Fey have changed you more than you may realise, though I have only known you as you are now. I say this because there is a part of you I have fallen in love with, yet when I look into your eyes I see terrors no man should see, and you make those terrors your servant.” He shrugged, in no way embarrassed by his little speech. It was not his way to be otherwise. “I do not think I shall come back to Lost Haven, there is a fire raging here that threatens to consume all in its path. I hope that you are spared the flames, Odette. If you ever need me please make it known that you are a friend of Lekh Antol anywhere in central Warsaw, around Market Square, I will find you. If this potion saves my sister, I will owe you everything.”

Her composure dropped, the often carefully neutral expression she wore disappeared. Colour touched in her cheeks. Odette caught the crook of his arm before he walked away, “Wait!”

Staring down at the pavement, the moment stretched as her mind raced. So rarely did someone say something that threw her off base. How was it possible? Since they first met she had shown him the worst. How could he still feel that way after everything they had done. He even said so himself.

“It is cruel.” She took a deep breath in through her nose trying to find that composure again and failing. “You could have said no dozens of times. You still responded, still met with me and decided to work with me… You even stood up to me! Anyone else-” She stopped herself then finished quietly. “I don’t- I don’t understand. You have everything you could want from me.”

Odette shut her eyes pressing the heel of her hand to her forehead, her other hand held his arm. “It’s cruel, the one person who has seen my worst is leaving.”

She felt exposed. How could she simply convey how important that was? There was no time to properly articulate it, no second to think. He was leaving now and there wasn't anything she could do to stop him. Nobody, had such a hard look at her and decided they liked her much less love after the fact.

Silence turned as she grabbed his arm, looking into her face as her iron-clad composure faltered for just a moment, his own eyes softened.

“As I said, Odette, I am not a good man.” He held her wrist and pulled her hand away, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek before brushing her other hand away from his arm. “Au Revoir, Madame.”

Odette felt a flood of emotions, when she went home today she would struggle still to understand what she was feeling. It would have been easier to let him go. To pull back on the reigns as she had done so for so long. A quiet part of her asked what Bach would think seeing her like this. Losing control. Her expression was pained.

She found herself not caring, at least for the moment.

Gently she cupped his cheek, without waiting another second she pressed her lips to his. Kissing him, she felt the tension drain out of her. Her shoulders relaxed and her grip tightened around his shirt.

Silence had been about to turn away, when suddenly Odette kissed him and his eyes jumped open in surprise. This… is a mistake. He thought, but like Odette he too found himself hardly caring as he kissed her back, his hand resting on her hip as he fought the urge to take her in his arms. For a moment, his grip wavered on the suitcase behind him and it seemed he would let it fall to the ground. It was the sounds of the ship’s crew shouting last call that brought him to his senses, or who knew what he might have done. He broke away from Odette finally, his expression confused.

“You could not let me leave cleanly, could you? You always surprise me Odette, I will not forget you, but I must go now, you understand?” There was no snappy exit for him, only a lingering glance as if pleading with her to let him go. If she were to say otherwise…

She held her breath hesitating, tempted to pay out his ticket for a little more time. Steal another moment. With incredible exertion of will she stepped away, out of reach. Letting the nearly iron grip she had on his shirt go. It really was for the best, to separate.

“Au revoir, Monsieur Antol. Likewise, if you need me I am in Paris. Whether you need help or just… want to see me. Just-” She pursed her lips, “Don’t forget to wear the cufflinks.” She said her smile was small, unmistakably soft. One she never practiced or tricked with. I will miss you.

Lekh returned her smile with one of his own, rarely genuine, though still marked with a little confusion. It was rare for him to be so out of his element, yet here they were. He turned, walking towards that big ship and an uncertain future, hope for his sister rolling along behind him and melancholy settling in his chest all the same.

“Good Bye Odette.”

Of Blood And Steel: A Savage Earth Roleplay

This is still looking for more people btw, but the OOC is up.

Of Blood And Steel: A Savage Earth Roleplay

Chief Ez-Bub

Character Name: Chief Ez-Bub

Age: 42

Sex: Male

Height: 5ft 9”

Weight: 180 Pounds

Alignment: Chaotic Impure

Character Personality: Sinister, dramatic, and often theatrical, Chief Ez-Bub is a master showman and manipulator who maintains a ruthless control over his tribe and its many differing voices. He is a rare example of a fanatic and a true believer in the words he speaks, if this is due to some dark blood connection to the Spider or his own delusions is uncertain.

Casual Appearance: ‘Red-skinned’ with dark brown hair coated in black grease and oil worn tied up as a pony-tail in a warrior’s thong. Ez-Bub is tall by his people’s standards, and as stocky and wide as all of them with a powerfully muscled build. His body is a myriad of scars, none more prominent than the eight self-inflicted burn grooves running across the sides of his face in the pattern of a spider’s legs. He wears a bronze nose ring and his dark brown eyes seem almost black staring out from red-rimmed lids. His garb is that of most of his people, though more ornate and colourful he wears a combination of furs and tough leather, with simple sandals and black ribbons wrapped around his bare ankles and wrists. He goes no-where without two short swords across his back. He wears a large sacrificial knife at his hip, which often drips blood. On his head, he wears a black iron circlet not unlike a crown.

Battlefield Appearance: Ez-Bub goes to battle riding the great Spider. Like all his people he will paint his face with the oil and blood of the spider, and usually adorns himself in scrapped together chainmail. If forewarned of a fight getting to close quarters he will sometimes use a Big Banger, the 8 Legs favoured firearm.

Origin Story: Ez-Bub rose to prominence after defeating the first chief of the tribe, before they were even named the 8 Leg. Back then they were the Long-Haired, and the cause for his brutal usurpation was other a differing opinion in regards to a huge mechanical corpse the tribe happened upon in their nomadic wanderings. Just eighteen years of age at the time, Ez-Bub was born under the sign of the Metal Star, and was gifted with a technical aptitude borne from an internal magic. So it was that when the Chief of the Long-Hair was asked what to do with the great metal skeleton, he cautiously pulled his tribe away. Ez-Bub however had grown enamoured with the great metallic beast, which resembled the body of a huge spider as tall as a tree. Ez-Bub plotted that night, and at the stroke of midnight he challenged and cut down the Chief in a great fury, feeding his heart to the Spider. The Chief was the first of many sacrifices to the great machine, and somewhere in its infernal heart something stirred. The Spider was reborn anew, fuelled by an unholy combination of blood magic and technical expertise, sending plumes of black arid smoke into the clear sky. The noxious smell of burning flesh was to herald its arrival for those few red-skin tribes that still stood in the great valleys. One by one the fell, their cultures lost, eaten up by the 8 Legs Tribe as they came to be known. The great spider led the tribe ever onward, with Chief Ez-Bub at the helm.

Powers (Be Specific): Blood Magic and Ritual
Chief Ez-Bub can use a rudimentary form of Blood Magic, by making sacrifices and coating his body in the blood of his enemies he can access greater strength and speed while making himself resistant to harm of all kinds. More importantly, he can use this ability to power machinery like the great spider, and to bestow upon his warriors bloody ferocity in combat. Lacking the more flashy aspects of other magic, Blood Magic is more of a passive increase to already present abilities and traits. It can be used as a way of corrupting enemy machinery, making them more prone to failure, though this is not something he has had much need to experiment with.

Attributes: Upon Accessing Blood Magic

Strength: The strength of three grown men, Ez-Bub can lift almost a tonne of weight with effort.
Speed: Ez-Bub can run at great speed across the open plain, reaching almost 40mph.
Reaction Time: Heightened to an unholy degree, his reactions peak at 3x human maximum.
Endurance: Naturally resilient to harm and tiredness, his body hardens to all but the most significant mortal wounds.
Agility: Ez-Bub can move at frightening speed for his size and weight, though only tipping into the supernatural.
Intelligence: Questionable, Ez-Bub has a rudimentary knowledge of many matters, but an innate technical gift and a knack for oratory often makes up for it.
Combat Skill: Like all the Long-Hair, now 8 Leg, Chief Ez-Bub is a master of shortswords and as good as one can be with a Big Banger.
Technical Skill: High, if somewhat unrefined. Ez-Bub can work with any machinery he lays his hands on, especially when his Blood Magic is infused with it.

Equipment: Ez-Bub carries two Spider Fangs worn across his back, serrated shortswords usually dipped in poisonous fluid, which leaks out of the Great Spider, before combat. He also carries a cruel sacrificial knife made of obsidian which can cut through flesh like butter.

Resources: The 8 Leg tribe and a giant mechanical Spider

Supporting Characters: Gunner Mo-For, Shaman San-Go, Wife Te-Bub

What is best in life?: To Conquer and to Follow the Path of the Spider!

Sample Post: The Horizon Beckons

The simmering fires and the wailing cries of women and children mourning their dead heralded the end of an era. The last of the so-called free tribes of the southern plains and the Red Teeth mountains crushed underheel. All eight of them. Atop the Great Spider, a mountainous machine that looked like a perverted but none-the-less uncanny artificial duplicate of its namesake, the mighty Chief of the 8 Leg tribe surveyed his Kingdom. It was a moving kingdom, made up of the peoples of the plains and the mountains, ferocious warriors, Red Skinned and dangerous to a man and woman. Yet the last of them had fell this day, bowing under the combined might of those who fell before it and the Spider itself, of which he alone was in command. It was a glorious day, and a burning hot tear rolled down his heavily scarred face, carrying the taste of blood and oil and victory into his open mouth as he breathed it in. What a glorious day!

“People of the 8 Legs! Hear me now!” His voice was like a roar of thunder, and beneath him hundreds of warriors looked up at him with the adoration of children for a father. “Another tribe joins our great Kingdom! Their fallen will feed the Spider and their souls will journey to the great beyond where they will await you with feast and story!” He raised his hands and the roar of pleasure rolled across the crowd. It made it so much easier to kill a brother man when one knew what awaited them, paradise. “But we are not done! The Spider would have more of us now! Until this day we fought to unite the tribes, but like the ocean we are now too great to be contained in this place, the horizon beckons! New lands, new conquests, new hearts for the Spider! Come, brothers and sisters, follow the Path of the Spider! Your Chief Commands it!”

The 8 Legs

The 8 Legs (Tribe)


The Great Spider

The most prominent feature of the 8 Legs is the Great Spider, a huge mechanical walker almost a hundred feet tall, 200 feet wide (counting the legs) and 200 feet long. It does, in every respect, resemble a huge spider. Its gears and metallic wiring run its length, worn in some areas, outright broken in others, its movements judder and shudder and by all rights it shouldn’t even work. Yet, it does. Powered by the burning corpses of the fallen, as well as oil and blood, it sends black smoke gushing into the air that can be seen up to a mile away. As one might expect from a apocalyptic tribe riding a giant spider, the 8 Legs have mounted countless weapons batteries to the thing. Primitive anti-air weapons that launch explosives and shrapnel in the sky line the top, gunners sit on the knees of each leg, and the head has a multitude of actual cannons attached which fire explosive balls often loaded with fire or arid poisons. Needless to say, with such a weapons platform at their disposal the 8 Legs have prospered.

Population: The 8 Legs tribe boasts around three thousand people, most of which cluster around the legs of the Spider and under its carapace for shelter and comfort. Large portions of the tribe however march out ahead and behind as scouts and hunters, bringing back food and captives for the Spider.

Culture and weaponry: The culture of the 8 Legs is something akin to hero worship, for the Great Spider and by extension, Ez-Bub. The people are warlike and brutal in every-way, their signature weapons are the spider’s fangs, viciously serrated shortswords usually dipped in poisonous fluids that pool out of the spider itself. They also make use of Big Bangers, rudimentary blunderbusses which are filled with shrapnel that is often poisoned. When combat begins, the Big Bangers are fired in two great bursts, one to shake and kill the enemy, the second to signal the charge. Against a single target, they are next to useless beyond twenty meters, but enmasse against mass, they can be brutally effective even at greater range.

Mechanical and Tribal adaption: The 8 legs is a conglomeration of tribes from the great plain and the Red Teeth mountains, all of which are red skinned warriors. With each new tribe enveloped by the 8 legs the knowledge and techniques of the tribe increase. Each original tribe came with its own skills, and while their culture is lost these skills still persist in the 8 leg tribe, here is a summary of the current tribes within the 8 Legs and the skills they bring.

The Long Hairs: Shortsword masters and quick learners, many of the elites who ride the Spider are of the Long Hair, the original founding tribe, and most are competent mechanics as well.

The Bang Clan: Gunpowder lovers and the first and most difficult conquest of the Long Hairs, though few in number even now the Bang Clan bring their knowledge of explosives and firearms to the 8 Legs and are responsible for all artillery and Big Bangers.

Black Arrows: Master archers, the Black Arrows are hunters by trade with experience in all terrains, they serve as scouts for the 8 Legs and hunter gatherers.

Soana: The Soana are one of the weirder tribes in the 8 Legs, their people are mostly normal but one in every fifty is known as a ‘Spirit Walker’ and materialises odd magical abilities mostly revolving around bartering for control over the elements. Interbreeding has resulted in almost twenty so called Spirit Walkers among the 8 Legs, who have a myriad of horrifying powers.

Plain Runners: The Plain Runner tribe are renowned for their mastery of horsemanship, though the exact nature of their mounts is often somewhat sketchy their ability to breed and train all manner of terrifying and speedy beasts is invaluable. They are also responsible for the large herds of cattle that follow in the Spider’s wake, feeding the people.

Lesser Tribes: Many small tribes conquered along the way exist within the 8 Legs, accounting for its population of almost three thousand people, though they bring no notable skills of their own they are all competent warriors, and many adopt the skills of the other major tribes through a diffusion of skills and training.

Appearance: Red skinned with brown and black hair often matted and covered in grease, oil and blood, the people of the 8 Legs wear furs and scrapped together iron armour, particularly in combat. Their legs and wrists are adorned with blood drenched ribbons, but by far their most fearsome aspect is their warpaint. Before combat, the 8 Legs use the oil and blood that constantly drips down the legs of the spider and from its belly to paint the pattern of a spider’s legs on their faces. It is the sacrificial blood they adorn themselves with which attests for their ferocity in combat, shirking lethal blows to continue fighting until their bodies die.

Of Blood And Steel: A Savage Earth Roleplay

Lore dump for what I'm planning to play.

Spoilers

Character Name: Chief Ez-Bub

Age: 42

Sex: Male

Height: 5ft 9”

Weight: 180 Pounds

Alignment: Chaotic Impure

Character Personality: Sinister, dramatic and theatrical, Chief Ez-Bub is a master showman and manipulator who maintains a ruthless control over his tribe and its many differing voices.

Casual Appearance: ‘Red-skinned’ with dark brown hair coated in black grease and oil worn tied up as a pony-tail in a warrior’s thong. Ez-Bub is tall by his people’s standards, and as stocky and wide as all of them with a powerfully muscled build. His body is a myriad of scars, none more prominent than the eight self-inflicted burn grooves running across the sides of his face in the pattern of a spider’s legs. He wears a bronze nose ring and his dark brown eyes seem almost black staring out from red-rimmed lids. His garb is that of most of his people, though more ornate and colourful he wears a combination of furs and tough leather, with simple sandals and black ribbons wrapped around his bare ankles and wrists. He goes no-where without two short swords across his back. He wears a large sacrificial knife at his hip, which often drips blood. On his head he wears a black iron circlet not unlike a crown.

Battlefield Appearance: Ez-Bub goes to battle riding the great Spider. Like all his people he will paint his face with the oil and blood of the spider, and usually adorns himself in scrapped together chainmail. If forewarned of a fight getting to close quarters he will sometimes use a Big Banger, the 8 Legs favoured firearm.

Origin Story: Ez-Bub rose to prominence after defeating the first chief of the tribe, before they were even named the 8 Leg. Back then they were the Long-Haired, and the cause for his brutal usurpation was other a differing opinion in regards to a huge mechanical corpse the tribe happened upon in their nomadic wanderings. Just eighteen years of age at the time, Ez-Bub was born under the sign of the Metal Star, and was gifted with a technical aptitude borne from an internal magic. So it was that when the Chief of the Long-Hair was asked what to do with the great metal skeleton, he cautiously pulled his tribe away. Ez-Bub however had grown enamoured with the great metallic beast, which resembled the body of a huge spider as tall as a tree. Ez-Bub plotted that night, and at the stroke of midnight he challenged and cut down the Chief in a great fury, feeding his heart to the Spider. The Chief was the first of many sacrifices to the great machine, and somewhere in its infernal heart something stirred. The Spider was reborn anew, fuelled by an unholy combination of blood magic and technical expertise, sending plumes of black arid smoke into the clear sky. The noxious smell of burning flesh was to herald its arrival for those few red-skin tribes that still stood in the great valleys. One by one the fell, their cultures lost, eaten up by the 8 Legs Tribe as they came to be known. The great spider led the tribe ever onward, with Chief Ez-Bub at the helm.

Powers (Be Specific): Blood Magic and Ritual
Chief Ez-Bub can use a rudimentary form of Blood Magic, by making sacrifices and coating his body in the blood of his enemies he can access greater strength and speed while making himself resistant to harm of all kinds. More importantly, he can use this ability to power machinery like the great spider, and to bestow upon his warriors bloody ferocity in combat. Lacking the more flashy aspects of other magic, Blood Magic is more of a passive increase to already present abilities and traits. It can be used as a way of corrupting enemy machinery, making them more prone to failure, though this is not something he has had much need to experiment with.

Attributes: Upon Accessing Blood Magic

Strength: The strength of three grown men, Ez-Bub can lift almost a tonne of weight with effort.
Speed: Ez-Bub can run at great speed across the open plain, reaching almost 40mph.
Reaction Time: Heightened to an unholy degree, his reactions peak at 3x human maximum.
Endurance: Naturally resilient to harm and tiredness, his body hardens to all but the most significant mortal wounds.
Agility: Ez-Bub can move at frightening speed for his size and weight, though only tipping into the supernatural.
Intelligence: Questionable, Ez-Bub has a rudimentary knowledge of many matters, but an innate technical gift and a knack for oratory often makes up for it.
Combat Skill: Like all the Long-Hair, now 8 Leg, Chief Ez-Bub is a master of shortswords and as good as one can be with a Big Banger.
Technical Skill: High, if somewhat unrefined. Ez-Bub can work with any machinery he lays his hands on, especially when his Blood Magic is infused with it.

Resources: The 8 Leg tribe and a giant mechanical Spider
Supporting Characters: Gunner Mo-For, Shaman San-Go, Wife Te-Bub
What is best in life?: To Conquer and to Follow the Path of the Spider!
Sample Post

The 8 Legs (Tribe)


The Great Spider

The most prominent feature of the 8 Legs is the Great Spider, a huge mechanical walker almost a hundred feet tall, 200 feet wide (counting the legs) and 200 feet long. It does, in every respect, resemble a huge spider. Its gears and metallic wiring run its length, worn in some areas, outright broken in others, its movements judder and shudder and by all rights it shouldn’t even work. Yet, it does. Powered by the burning corpses of the fallen, as well as oil and blood, it sends black smoke gushing into the air that can be seen up to a mile away. As one might expect from a apocalyptic tribe riding a giant spider, the 8 Legs have mounted countless weapons batteries to the thing. Primitive anti-air weapons that launch explosives and shrapnel in the sky line the top, gunners sit on the knees of each leg, and the head has a multitude of actual cannons attached which fire explosive balls often loaded with fire or arid poisons. Needless to say, with such a weapons platform at their disposal the 8 Legs have prospered.

Population: The 8 Legs tribe boasts around three thousand people, most of which cluster around the legs of the Spider and under its carapace for shelter and comfort. Large portions of the tribe however march out ahead and behind as scouts and hunters, bringing back food and captives for the Spider.

Culture and weaponry: The culture of the 8 Legs is something akin to hero worship, for the Great Spider and by extension, Ez-Bub. The people are warlike and brutal in every-way, their signature weapons are the spider’s fangs, viciously serrated shortswords usually dipped in poisonous fluids that pool out of the spider itself. They also make use of Big Bangers, rudimentary blunderbusses which are filled with shrapnel that is often poisoned. When combat begins, the Big Bangers are fired in two great bursts, one to shake and kill the enemy, the second to signal the charge. Against a single target, they are next to useless beyond twenty meters, but enmasse against mass, they can be brutally effective even at greater range.

Appearance: Red skinned with brown and black hair often matted and covered in grease, oil and blood, the people of the 8 Legs wear furs and scrapped together iron armour, particularly in combat. Their legs and wrists are adorned with blood drenched ribbons, but by far their most fearsome aspect is their warpaint. Before combat, the 8 Legs use the oil and blood that constantly drips down the legs of the spider and from its belly to paint the pattern of a spider’s legs on their faces. It is the sacrificial blood they adorn themselves with which attests for their ferocity in combat, shirking lethal blows to continue fighting until their bodies die.

Of Blood And Steel: A Savage Earth Roleplay

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