Shu

FORGOTTEN REALMS - Gambit of Scoundrels

“I doubt any of us are much for company tonight.” Iliskra smirked as she headed to pay for rooms for the night.

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NIGHTAL 4, 1372 DR
THE DRAGON’S TAIL TAVERN
SCARDALE TOWN

Iliskra awoke the next morning feeling very well rested despite the circumstances at hand. Yesterday had been a long day to say the least. Trudging through the wintery countryside of the Scardale, battling an orcish brute and his henchman, saving the leader of a once renowned thieves guild, and then slaying the remnants of a neighborhood gang lead by aforementioned orc. Never mind the tension of sneaking about through the gloomy streets of an all but ruined city which was under a seemingly endless siege. Needless to say that once Iliskra, Leon, and Ibdur had settled themselves in at the Dragon’s Tail they realized just how exhausted they were.

The food at the Dragon’s Tail was edible, and not much beyond that. The bread was tough and flat, the stew too heavily seasoned, and the pitiful cuts of deer were more fat and gristle than meat. The ale and however was strong and the mead stout and flavorful. After a mediocre and tight-lipped supper and a few stiff drinks the three retired to their rooms. Or rather Iliskra to hers while Leon and Ibdur shared a room as there were only two left. Iliskra had hoped neither man nor dwarf snored loudly for the others’ sake. The accommodations were suitable if plain and the beds were quite clean and comfortable, Iliskra sank into her bedspread instantly and slept deeply throughout the night.

Iliskra hurriedly and shakily dressed after forcing herself from under the warm blankets and enduring the winter chill that had filled the room. There were no fireplaces upstairs, only those below had such a privilege in this establishment. Iliskra had noticed the greasy feeling of her hair locks and the faint sweaty smell that wafted up from her clothes beneath her armor. It dawned on her as she left her room that she had not bathed since the night before she joined the other mercenaries at Lord Hastlon’s estate.

The Talons are not meant to seek us out until the morrow, Iliskra thought as she headed down the creaky wooden stairs onto the ground floor, there must be a bathhouse somewhere near…

The patrons were more this morning, nearly every bench and stool were occupied. Mostly human men and women, though there was the odd halfling and dwarf to be spotted among the clients. Iliskra found a small round table in a back corner and ordered a simple breakfast meal of eggs and a cup of milk from a passing barmaid. The eggs were passable enough and the milk fresh. A nice change from last night. Leon and Ibdur were down before long and sitting huddled together with Iliskra as she sipped at a second glass of milk. The Dragon’s Tail was filled with the clinking of tankards, cups, and plates and the cacophony of dozens of people clamoring at once. So long as the three remained in their little nook they could talk openly without concern of eavesdropping.

2100 ☢️ BADLAND REPUBLIC (Interest Gathering) (High Casual) (FULL)

Just to confirm, this is an alternate world---when you say the DUA is "resemblant" of the USA, you just mean that they're similar, and this is NOT a fictional future-Earth at all but a separate, distinct Earth-like planet?

@Zeroth

Correct! 💯

The DUA was a continental power, as stated with multiple nations that made it up - the original Republic of Sevara being one of several. (The exact number is still up for consideration but will be give or take around ten.) Sevara specifically is based heavily off RL Colorado in context of geography, climate, flora and fauna, and etcetera. (Just to add.)

The "enigmatic Arcanii" made me think of the word "arcane," so will this RP feature any sort of magic or non-scientific, supernatural force? Or will it stick more to the realm of science-based, technological "powers" and firearm based weaponry?

This RP will strictly be science fiction with zero “magic”/arcane influence. I will say though on that that things will be quite diversified. Along with conventional “slug throwers” there will be laser-based weaponry as well resources such as drones, power armor, explosives of varied effects, varieties of melee weapons, useful applicable serums, cybernetics… etcetera.

What are the nature of the mentioned mutations? Bestial mutants are mentioned, so I'm sure those are environmental fauna/flora threats, "monsters" in JRPG terms, but do mutations also affect playable races/people? If so, how does it change their appearance, combat abilities, etc?

Unlike a lot of media that have “categorized” such the approach I am taking with this RP is that the mutations, be they radiation induced or lab engineered, are “endless” - for lack of a better word - in variety. Mind you I am not going to take, nor allow, a completely ridiculous avenue when it comes to this. Each mutant be it human (oid) or animalistic in nature is unique. In some cases such as a gigantic mutated ant queen there are very likely be others such as it but this is not a guarantee. At least not locally. A human meanwhile that was subject zero for a specially designed mutagen agent that was deemed as a failure - and said human was “discarded” but survived the apocalypse - is likely the “only one”.

Does this make sense?

2100 ☢️ BADLAND REPUBLIC (Interest Gathering) (High Casual) (FULL)

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Inspired by
Wild Arms 3 and Fallout New Vegas.

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In the year 2050 the world was consumed by the fires of war.

The Democratic Union of Aldemara and the Laborite Nations Coalition - the two great powers of the globe - would clash it what history would call an inevitable conflict of control and ideology. For four years the fighting raged on, claiming millions of lives with neither faction willing to relent to the other. New theaters of engagement opened in bloody continuum and once neutral countries one after another were forced to choose a side. In 2054 the rules of war as well as the very well-being of mankind were thrown to the wind. In a desperate, reprehensibly mindless attempt to put an end to the struggle nuclear weapons were unleashed upon the planet.

Entire cities were obliterated, hundreds of millions slaughtered, and nature itself suffered under the toxic rainfall of radioactive fallout. Shock quickly turned to fury as worldwide outrage climaxed into riots, those who had survived deeming the powers that be as incorrigible. Entire countries collapsed within days and the old order came crumbling down as the world succumbed to a dark baptism of blood and flame.

. . .

The year is now 2130 and mankind stands on the brink. In the wake of the cataclysm survivors emerged from their refuges after three generations, tentatively scouring what remains of a broken world. Meeting their challenges head-on as they searched for resources and new places to call home. Societies and settlements form as these post-apocalyptic pioneers look to build a future for themselves.

Within the Aldemaran continental heartland lies the harsh region of Sevara - a rolling landscape of scorching deserts, mutant infested highlands, and crumbling ruins. From the ashes of the old capital city of Ardhelm a new banner flies high - that of the New Republic of Sevara, carved from the bones of the great metropolis. Guided by the hand of the Chairman Elect and also under the watchful eye of the enigmatic Arcani - if the stories are to be believed. Ten years have passed since the Republic was officially founded and it has swelled to unmatched heights, reaching beyond the revitalized Ardhelm into the surrounding areas.

Faced with a rapidly growing population and mounting needs the Republic has been expanding across the map, claiming more land and resources for itself, often in spite of local residents. Along with stubborn independent settlements throughout Sevara there are two groups in particular that refuse to bend to the Republic. The Ya'íí to the south, a reclusive and archaic people that dwell within the mountains along the great lake Tankar. And Havenwood to the east, a secluded coterie of mutants and other outcasts and deviants.

Recent events have greatly aggravated the already festering strain across Sevara. Two months ago was marked by the now infamous Rafeton Massacre which would see the thriving town of Rafeton destroyed and the New Republic of Sevara facing heavy ridicule for its’ involvement. In an attempt to ease tensions the Chairman has sent envoys out across the wastes to try and ensure the people of greater Sevara of Ardhelm’s good intentions. Words of negotiation and promises of goodwill are met with stern suspicion however and many fear further escalation. A number of officials in Ardhelm are calling for a cease of annexations much to the disdain of hawks in the Republic Guard. And as the deadlock stands a new threat draws near unbeknownst to anyone. Stretching from afar like a dark shadow that seeks to envelope the land.

Fate’s gaze lingers. Sevara stands at a crossroads at a pivotal time. Decisions made in the coming days will affect the lives of many thousands and shape the regions’ history for generations to come. And those decisions will fall to those both of great power and humble origins. In a world left sundered by the mistakes of the past it is up to a new generation to save the future.

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WELCOME
AND
GREETINGS!

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This is a concept I have had on the drawing board for a time now and finally decided to really “put it to paper”. Inspired to me by the Fallout and Wild Arms video games, specifically Fallout : New Vegas and Wild Arms 3 respectively. Take a steady read, soak everything in, and I hope you, dear RP’er, find this worthy of your time! ^_^ Ask me any questions you have and feel free to pour out your own thoughts and constructive inputs! On with it ☕️🫖💯

. . .

Set in a world heavily derived from RL Earth and influenced by its’ history and collective cultures the moving plot of this RP begins in the early twenty-second century, decades after a global conflict that climaxed with the use of nuclear armaments. The major powers have fallen and what few scattered “old world” nations that still stand hang by a thread. As outlined in the introduction our story is set in Sevara, formerly a member of the multinational alliance known as the Democratic Union of Aldemara - which is heavily resemblant of the RL United States of America. (Though instead of being a single country the DUA was a tightly bound political and military alliance of multiple countries.) For decades after the war Sevara - until recently - had been a disunited wild wasteland of isolated survivalists, bloodthirsty raiders, and roaming mutant abominations.

The rise of the New Republic of Sevara has of course brought changes to the region. The capital city of Ardhelm has been transformed from a bombed out ruin into a shining beacon over the horizon. Refugees and settlers flock by the endless scores to Ardhelm. The growing economy flourishes, businesses and thriving urbanized districts bring life to the streets, and the brilliant lights of the cities’ skyscrapers can be seen for miles around. In recent years the Republic has begun to rapidly expand with the very obvious intent of claiming the entirety of Sevara for itself and recreating it as it was before the great war. While many welcome the prospects of a strong, secure, and singular nation to be a part of others see the Republic as an oppressive invader that will strip away their freedoms and rob them of their land and resources. This has lead to resentment and even outright resistance to the Republic’s integration efforts among fringe settlements and tribes. The aforementioned Rafeton Massacre compounding the rigidness of those who refuse to be so easily seized upon.

Player characters will begin as newcomers to Sevara, recent arrivals who journeyed across the border for some purpose or another - be it a deep seeded personal vendetta or they may simply seek a new life in a new place. Regardless of origin, player characters will find themselves drawn into the growing vortex of instability as the tensions continue to mount and the threat to all of Sevara becomes more dire. Players will be presented with the opportunity to join one of four major factions or one of several smaller factions. Or one can simply go it alone and ride out the storm and just survive till the end. Dive into a world of advanced, “futuristic” technology, harrowing perilous deserts and rugged tundras and fighting through forests and bogs infested with beastial super mutants. Rummage through the hollowed out ruins of the old world for valuable tech and other weaponry. Take to the neon painted streets of Ardhelm by night and gaze upon the sordid underbelly of the shining beacon. History shall remember the troubled days to come and you must choose how history shall judge you.

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FINAL POINTS
AND
REMINDERS

• This RP as tagged will be anime/manga themed. Keep this in mind when creating your character and in regard to the overall aesthetic.

• Excluding myself the ideal group size will range from four to seven (Maximum.) people.

• Discord will be integral for this RP.

• The Discord server is TBA/WIP.

• While this is not a true tabletop RP there will be dice rolls and applied modifiers for chance situations to mix things up and add a layer of intensity, narratively speaking. (The system will be VERY simple, so do not fear any unnecessary complexities making things tedious.)

• An official map and expanded in-depth lore are TBA/WIP.

• Rules, “gameplay”, and player expectations will be provided in the official thread.

• Feel free to ask me any questions prior to the coming thread!

• I am in the central United States time zone (UTC-06:00) for clarification/reference.

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What Are You Listening To?

FORGOTTEN REALMS - Gambit of Scoundrels

Oh, for the sake of Mask… Iliskra thought as she crossed her arms and sighed aloud at Leon’s action. So much for complete discretion.

Ibdur had walked up beside Leon, hands on his axe hafts at the ready. The four local men looked between themselves and then at Leon, two of them letting out raspy laughs while the other two stared in aggravated disbelief. The larger of the latter looked at Leon with squinted eyes and a nasty sneer, half slurring, “Well… aren’t you the brave dandy fellow? Think you can just buy away our evening table for cheap with a threat stuck to the bottom of the tag?”

“‘Ey now,” grumbled the other of the more serious two, “look… we were about to leave anyway. Just… let ‘im have the table, Durgal.”

“Shove off, then,” the man Durgal said, tottering up from his chair to full height, which was almost a head above Leon, “I’ll be damned if some… whatever he be… is going to just try and tell me about like this. Even the captain has better m-manners…”

“Just stuff it and let’s go… you know what the captain said about anymore f-f-fights o-on land…” the other man said, lifting up from his own chair and putting a hand on his fellows’ breast in a show of retraining.

Durgal snorted and swatted the hand away but grumbled, “Fine.”

As he and his three fellows started around the table the large man pressed his pointer finger into Leon’s chest threateningly. “Ye should be thanking Tymora I have a strict captain and too light a head r-right now. You had best hope we not meet a-again.”

The four cleared away and headed for the door, Iliskra standing beside Leon now with her arms crossed firmly over her chest and one brow raised sharply.
“Leon, we are trying to remain unseen as we can be.” the half-elf chastised.

Nevertheless, Ibdur, Iliskra, and Leon had a table now, though Iliskra doubted the three would be up for long. All she wanted was a meal, a drink, and a bed. She looked around and noted that the place was rather empty given the size of it and the circumstances outside. There were maybe a dozen or so other patrons spread about tending to their plates and flagons in solitude. The upside of this was that there was likely a room available for the night.

What Are You Listening To?

FORGOTTEN REALMS - Gambit of Scoundrels

“My thoughts are that we all need a hot meal, a pint, and a good nights’ rest to consider everything in detail tomorrow.” Iliskra said flatly as she and her two male counterparts trudged off into the night.

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It did not take long for Iliskra, Leon, and Ibdur to find the Dragon’s Tail tavern. The deeper into the southern side of the city that the three went the more orderly things were. Derelict burned out houses, abandoned shops, and streets littered with fly infested corpses were replaced by lively cottages and apartments, “Open For Business” signs, and guard posts. The three had slipped past the outermost guard post with ease - despite Ibdur and his clanking armor - and found themselves within a “safe area” as it were. Vendors hawked from street side carts, courtesans lingered on the corners seeking “clients”, and even little street urchins frolicked about seemingly without fear.

“It seems Shagarm knows how to keep a reign on folk.” Iliskra had remarked, noting the heavily equipped squads of soldiers that clomped down the middle of the streets and could even be seen barging into houses and questioning people who cowered on their knees in front of their quivering families. Even as motley and assorted as the occupiers were they maintained something of a uniform - namely brilliant red plumes from their helms, red sashes across their chests, and emblems of either slanted glaring eyes or a curled fist on their shields and breastplates. For mercenaries and former bandits and thieves this is a very… organized lot. Iliskra thought unnerved, noting the attentive nature of the posted guards and the professional flawlessness of marching units. The citizens still out in the early evening obviously shared the wariness of the new arrivals but none interfered in any way with the force at large. Aside from the obvious repercussions - such as the example made of the two bound men dangling from a hastily assembled gallows on a street side - Iliskra imagined most of these good folk appreciated the return of order per se. Even if it was tyrannical in obvious sight.

The Dragon’s Tail was nestled into a small walled-in square, lit up with lanterns and echoing from within of music, cheers, whistling, drunken bellows, and the flowing conversations of many. The half-elf, dwarf, and human stood now outside the front door which was watched over by a single man in a suit of chainmail with a cudgel at his hip.

“Go on, in,” he encouraged with a yellowed grin, “just don’t draw blood.”

FORGOTTEN REALMS - Gambit of Scoundrels

Iliskra, Leon, and Firoz met Elthel and Willory downstairs. Elthel revealed there had been one man downstairs passed out drunk that Willory dealt with. Firoz asked if there had been anything of note in the basement to which Willory said it was mostly just trash and assorted junk save for a few kegs of ale that he insisted they leave with.

“After we finish here, yes.” Elthel stated which pleased the halfling.

“What is there left to do?” Iliskra asked.

Elthel turned her head sharply, saying, “We want all the time we can gain for ourselves. We need to hide away the bodies of Gunalar’s men and make things seem… orderly as the usual here. Should anyone come here and find Gunalar’s men dead and he nowhere to be found it will spur his cohorts.”

“We should return to the alley you say you were trapped in and dispose of Gunalar’s body.” Firoz stated.

Elthel nodded, her eyes darting about in calculation. “Firoz, return and gather three of our number and bring them here. And then you and I will go to do away with Gunalar’s body. Willory, you and the others must hide the bodies here as best you can.”

“Any suggestion?” Willory asked.

“How many kegs of ale did we see? Eight?” Elthel asked, rubbing her chin.

“Y-Yes…” Willory stammered.

“Dismember the bodies and stuff them into the kegs and seal them. Anything that cannot fit inside you can toss into the fireplace or oven.”

“No!” Willory barked shrilly making everyone but Elthel wince back from him and look around nervously.

“Do as I say!” Elthel immediately snapped with a scolding point of her finger.

The halfling recoiled at her retort and then began to sulk but gave a nod of affirmation.

“And remember to salvage their weapons and armor.”

Another solemn nod from the downtrodden halfling.

“What about the chest we emptied upstairs?” Firoz asked, clutching one ear.

“Lock it back up. If you cannot then the others can stow it away in the basement.”

“I will set the crossbow trap back before we leave.” Firoz added.

Elthel nodded and then looked back to Iliskra and Leon.
“Your companion is out front, posing as a guard. We, as you can see, have much left to do this night. You handled yourselves well for the most part.”

“I am glad you think so.” Iliskra replied, stuffing her newly acquired sword, wand, and gemstones into her bag of holding.

“Zilaster will without doubt wish to speak with you soon. And I must admit we may have more to talk about as well,” Elthel lowered her hood for the first time, letting her thick red hair fall free around her shoulders and face, “the Dragon’s Tail tavern has rooms for rent. It lies in the center of this side of the city, you will see it. The owner pays his protection to Shagarm and keeps the place in running order. I will meet you there the morning after tomorrow - if you are interested in working with us further. And making solid coin.”

Iliskra nodded in understanding and looked to Leon.

“And just in case you happen to get the idea of going to Shagarm’s people - or someone else - with word about us,” Elthel smirked, “Zilaster has already been moved from beneath Yanoriim’s store and the underground passage sealed. And we do not take kindly to betrayers.”

FORGOTTEN REALMS - Gambit of Scoundrels

The only thing to be found in the wardrobe was a mess of dirty clothes and worn boots. Iliskra looked under the bed and found only more empty bottles and undergarments - the latter of which made her shudder - and on realizing there was nothing more Firoz started to work on the chest.

“It seems Gunalar was quite mindful of intrusion into his room.” Iliskra nodded towards the only bedroom window which was not only tightly boarded up but had a wicked-looking bear trap set on the floor just below it.

“The half-orc was the smartest of his band. Which does not say much.” Firoz chuckled as he rattled the lock against the chest in his efforts to pick it.

It did not take long for Firoz to get the chest open, the lock clattering to the floor followed by a loud creak as the lid was raised. Iliskra peeked over his shoulder to gaze at the contents within. There was a single bulging sack that clinked of coins which Firoz quickly pulled from the chest. Most of the rest of the contents within were miscellaneous - a keen-looking short sword, an amulet bundled in its own cord, a few trinket gems such as quartz and pearls, and a suspicious-looking wand. Iliskra quickly grabbed the wand and stepped back before Firoz could protest, though he did look over his shoulder at her with a raised brow.

“The gold goes to us,” Firoz quickly asserted as he stood, “and I will take this amulet as well.”

Iliskra reached back into the chest and took the short sword from where it lay. The blade was fine and dangerously sharp and the hilt and pommel sturdy and blunt. The blade felt strangely perfect in her hand, as if it were the finest sword ever made and that it was forged just for her. It was most likely enchanted, which meant that even if Iliskra or Leon neither wanted it they could sell it for a fair amount of coin. Iliskra scooped up the gems and left the amulet to Firoz. As the half-elf approached the doorway, sword and wand in each hand, she looked up and her eyes instantly widened.

“Firoz, the stairs!”

Coming up the stairs, just rounding the last flight, was a crouched man dressed in the same tattered clothes and cheap armor padding as the rest of Gunalar’s gang. Most likely he had heard the talking upstairs or found his dead fellows below and came up to investigate. When he saw Iliskra and heard her shout he impulsively drew his sword and came charging up the rest of the stairs - straight into Leon’s line of attack.

How high can we count before a mod gets involved?

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