On Strange Tides

[Grey]

The tension is palpable; a hundred suspicious eyes watching the figure on the deck of Challa's Grace as the sun beats down and the stormwings cry overhead. Judging, perhaps. Discussing in their guttural counsel whether this ship should yet be sunk.


Captain Abasi frowns, the white scars on his brown forehead adding severity to the expression.


"You are brave, to come here. You have no even tried to hide the marks of your caste. You know there is no love for your kind, here?"


Atiena stands straight, the sunlight faltering around her, tattoos crawling across her dark skin like black snakes.


"The tales of your deeds, and of your suffering, have reached even the Temple of Night, Abasi," she replies, suppressing a quake in her voice. "I spoke in your defense. My sisters did not appreciate the sentiment. Now, I am here to join you."


A ripple of murmurs spreads through the crew.


The young priest continues, louder.


"I know your pain, Outcastes. I know how the city turned her back on you, how you survived on scraps and thievery. And the city will not change, the priesthood will not change. Not unless we can convince the gods to listen to our pleas."


She rummages in the sack at her side; withdraws a silver mask lined with black feathers and inlaid with jewels. Around the left eye is stained with blood. The mask of one of Night's highest priests.


"And the gods will not hear us without deeds."





=============================


A game of Crucible: Dark Age set in and around the tumultuous Coral City of Lama and nearby islands, where tensions between the social castes are rising as the Outcaste turn to piracy and appeals to terrible spirits for aid, and the young people of the highest castes leave to break the shackles of their presumed place in the world, to seek their own destiny.


You are a crew of pirates, seeking your place in a world that doesn't want you, doing whatever you must to survive.

 

[Action Replay]

Look up, look back, I'm on a boat.

 

[Dusky]

Must... not... join... @~@


gbnjkng but Lama. >.>


-dreamily reviews Crucible doc-

 

[Atom]

More crucible? Yes please.

 

[Dusky]

Mind you, Atom, Blood and Plunder is a Darkening Skies game and this is Dark Age. They're sort of like... alternate universes to each other.


As I only learned like last night or something.

 

[Atom]

Oh I know


I also joined Fallen


Got my CS done earlier

 

[Dusky]

You're just all over the place aren't you? You sure you have time for all this?

 

[Atom]

I have extra time actually.


I'm only in Aether, TOAFK, White Lightning, Fallen, And chess mate.


Only two of those move with any real speed. I need more stuff lol


But this will probably be it on my list after I join blood in glory.

 

[The Fuzz]

Very much want and has idears.

 

[Grey]

PITCH, YOU DOGS. I WANT TO SEE YOUR CHARACTER CONCEPTS.

 

[Atom]

I need to go read up on Lama first.

 

[The Fuzz]

Tomorrer morning. Promise.


Anything before noon is morning.


Oi Grey, how do we feel about the prospect of a priestess of the Heron, conceptually linked to [the boundaries and edges of water; patience, insight; ambush, trap; the spear]?

 

[Action Replay]

I am vlad who is definitely not a vampire.


Given we're fighting an extremely gender oppressive caste system country, I find it challenging to not make pirate Ghandi. Silly jokes aside, I'm rereading Coral City's write up and it feels...lacking in detail on what life is like for a Y chromosome. Will try to think something up tomorrow, as tonight proves unfruitful.

 

[Atom]

I'm looking towards some form of pirate.... might do a Witch even though I did one for Fallen...

 

[Grey]

[QUOTE="Action Replay]
I am vlad who is definitely not a vampire.
Given we're fighting an extremely gender oppressive caste system country, I find it challenging to not make pirate Ghandi. Silly jokes aside, I'm rereading Coral City's write up and it feels...lacking in detail on what life is like for a Y chromosome. Will try to think something up tomorrow, as tonight proves unfruitful.

[/QUOTE]
Thank you; now I know to work on that.

 

[The Fuzz]

hRRRMMM.


Supposing that a Jim wanted to play a character originally of the Coral Caste, a woman who was soft and pampered as a child, but who has chosen to bite the hand that feeds. She is not of the khuvala, but she is a priest nonetheless, a priest who wasn't called but who walked the wetlands of her own choice, who ruined good shoes until she walked barefoot, whose fine cotton robes blew away until she wore mud and reeds, and who wrote a covenant of blood and red earth with a spirit of boundaries.


Notes and descriptors...


Raised soft, hardening herself now; patient and cunning; well educated; willing to kill her enemies; compassionate to the low, ruthless to the high; "If the Coral City can survive what I am going to do to it, it deserves to."


I am picturing a young woman with fresh calluses on her hands, still a little round as she converts the chubbiness of an easy life into the wire of a sailor, pirate, and revolutionary. Fine hair now cut to chin length dreadlocks, her family beads thrown away in favour of new ones, carved of bone and shell. Her throat is marked, scarred with a sharp slash, now healed, and the skin of her right hand is gnarled and webbed, her nails shiny and black. She always speaks softly. The truth is that she can no longer raise her voice above a rasp, cannot ever sing again.


Also, if we're going full blown pirate, her name is Lintha. Lintha Akkabri.

Spoiler

Building her like a witch, no? I was thinking sacrificing right hand, and getting back something which is reminiscent of a bird's foot, complete with tough, webbed skin and actually somewhat nasty little talons. Also, her voice, returned to her as a harsh whisper, and an incoherent croak if she tries to shout or sing.


Her patron, I was thinking of writing up a mid ranked spirit of the edges, Patience/The Heron. Aspected towards silence and stealth, ambush, sudden violence, insight, spears, and the edge of water.


So, for Lintha herself, was thinking picking up some languages and a decent broad education. I'm thinking that she once would have had more soft social skills, especially Performance, but has functionally 'traded' them for more physical skills and intimidation by the time I'm statting her.


Physical attributes probably not great yet, as she's still getting into better shape.


Stuff coming from her patron, I'm imagining things like rendering her prey almost incapable of seeing her as she moves to prepare an ambush, temporarily making the world in front of her very clear that she might look at a jumbled mess of red herrings but to her, the right fish is obvious, that sort of thing. The Heron loves sudden violence across the boundary of water, and striking either up or down with a spear to kill an unsuspecting target is like a prayer to him.


In terms of more exact environmental control, the Heron grants power over wetlands, beaches, anywhere the water meets the land.


From the point of view of the fish, the heron is basically Zalgo.


It waits beyond the walls.

How's this sounding, Grey?

 

[Dusky]

Today is Maji-Giza Amani Jengo's birthday.


Normally around now his parents would be bringing out sweets, small gifts, they and he and his sisters and brothers sitting around the dining room table. His father would put away the leftovers while his mother would proudly present the fruits of her labor - new tools, last year. The year before that, a square of marble. Times were not hard in this household, nor in the Dark Water tribe as a whole. The hub of Laman trade - well, lawful Laman trade - how could celebration be anything less than satisfying?


The world does find a way. Jengo swings his legs, kicking the side of his bed and casting a forlorn glance at his younger brother, who shrugs and goes back to his toy blocks. Crying can be heard in the next room.


Fifteen years ago to the day, a child was born under the mark of the Guardian in this cheerful home. Nobody knew at first, of course. But when he was seven, Jengo would find that when he skipped rocks on the lake of Maji-Giza, Dark Water indeed, no matter how bulky they were, they always left his hand smooth enough to jump once, twice, thrice. He was a hero among all young boys.


But that wasn't all. It only ever took one sweep of his backside to get all the dirt off. And heaven forbid he had metal - how many cups had his parents found dented in his small hands? It isn't right, they'd murmur to each other after he was asleep. How soon until he makes metal into weapons? Or worse, they'd whisper, the spirits come to take him...


The creaking of his bedroom door interrupts his brooding. His mother and father walk in, sit on his bed next to him, one on either side. His mother is the first to pull his thin, lanky body into her arms, perhaps to distract him from the shadow standing watch in his doorway. Their faces are puffy, red.


"There are some people here who are going to take you on an adventure, Jengo," says his mother.


"Isn't that great?" says his father.


"They'll be taking you to the Coral City," says his mother.


"And you'll even meet a great Spirit there," says his father.


"That Spirit needs your help - needs you to give It something," says his mother.


"We want you to..."


His father trails off. The figure in the doorway shifts.


"We want you to give it when asked, Jengo," his father finishes, voice strained.


There is a quiet pause, and then the last thing Jengo ever says to his parents. Sullenly: "I'm fifteen years old now, I'm not a baby. Quit talking to me like one."

 

[Carl]

After reading up on Crucible: Dark Age's provided document, as well as Lama's...All I can say is that you did a damned good job explaining pretty much anything that a newbie to Dice Roleplaying in a brandnew setting/world needs to know. It got me excited and eager to start roleplaying with y'all, if there's room open and such. So far I only joined 1 Dice Roleplay before, Insylum I believe it was, but lacked time at that moment to participate at all.


If the possibility of being allowed to join is there, I'll write up my Character Concept (asap) in this thread. I already have a fair idea of how I want the Concept to start off as, in this setting, considering the described lore of Lama and piracy.


Let me know please, so I can start working on noting it all down. ^^


Cheers.

 

[Grey]

Spaces are open, Carl.

 

[Carl]

Below is my Character's backstory and, probably somewhat vague, concept. ^^


---


Forced into this life, Talhar was anything but a volunteering privateer, let alone a hero. He was borne and raised as an Outcaste...and will probably die a nameless death like one. From a wee age he has experienced ordeals and suffering, living day by day for that next full stomach. Having no qualms whatsoever to obtain that meal in less than savoury ways, Talhar turned to a thuggish life, as many other streetkids did. That was the case up to a certain age anyway, around the influential age of 15, he ransacked a house near the inland outskirts of Coral City. Near the tobacco plantations, there was a lonesome house that was being targetted by Talhar and his so-called 'family' he was hanging out with at the time. He was excited, adrenaline rushing through his heart as they broke into the small mansion nice and smooth, no guards had been alerted and they had made their way into the cellars through an unsecured wooden hatch. If only they hadn't been so greedy, they would've made it out of there, but as fate had it in for them...None made it.


Soon the ragtag bunch found themselves trapped as the wooden hatch fell shut with a loud thump that caused all of their hearts to stop beating simultaneously. Moments after, half a dozen armed guards were in the cellar, surrounding the group as a man slowly stepped down into the damp and dimly lit basement. What Talhar could remember, aside from the sensation of icecold fear, was that the man appeared humble and modest even at that moment. His clothes were nothing to brag about, not for a plantation owner anyway, his face wasn't contorted in rage, it wasn't even discontent. Talhar mainly remembers the words he spoke to them, offering them life, a better life. None of them could believe their ears, most didn't and ended up leaving the farm, but Talhar stayed. What was there to return to after all? What was there to lose at that point? The man had no reason to lie, he already had all of their lives in his whimsical hands.


From that moment on, Talhar slowly evolved from a disobedient streetkid to a loyal retainer of the man that saved him in more ways than one. Talhar didn't become a guard, soldier or apprentice of the man in any way, but he was loyal and thankful of him for everything he had done. He trained Talhar in the arts he already had a knack for, he didn't enforce anything on him, but he did encourage Talhar in his studies and training. After a long time, Talhar had become fairly proficient in what he did, most of his skills weren't 'approved of' by most others. But if Talhar had to guess, all the man tried to do was help him survive in the world they were in, even if he would be gone. As time passed, so did the man, but not before filling Talhar's head with talk of a better world, a better place for them, but not one to come easy or without a fight. Basicly he was fueling Dmitri's short, rebellious, fuse and then...When the ruling Caste suddenly raided the plantation and captured Talhar's teacher on the grounds of evoking rebellion and was a menace to Coral City's prosperity, he was ready to lay his life down to save the man. But he was told by his comrades that it wasn't his time to die, as they dragged him away to safety, he had only one goal in life from that moment on, as petty as it may seem, all he wanted in life was to hit Coral City where it hurt.


--


Let me know if anything needs editting or overhauling, cheers. ^^

 

[Teh Frixz]

Ehmygerd moar pirates!


I'll get something wonderfully obtuse up shortly.

 

[Grey]

Below is my Character's backstory and, probably somewhat vague, concept. ^^
---


Forced into this life, Dmitri Saratov was anything but a volunteering privateer, let alone a hero. He was borne and raised as an Outcaste...and will probably die a nameless death like one. From a wee age he has experienced ordeals and suffering, living day by day for that next full stomach. Having no qualms whatsoever to obtain that meal in less than savoury ways, Dmitri turned to a thuggish life, as many other streetkids did. That was the case up to a certain age anyway, around the influential age of 15, he ransacked a house near the inland outskirts of Coral City. Near the tobacco plantations, there was a lonesome house that was being targetted by Dmitri and his so-called 'family' he was hanging out with at the time. He was excited, adrenaline rushing through his heart as they broke into the small mansion nice and smooth, no guards had been alerted and they had made their way into the cellars through an unsecured wooden hatch. If only they hadn't been so greedy, they would've made it out of there, but as fade had it in for them...None made it.


Soon the ragtag bunch found themselves trapped as the wooden hatch fell shut with a loud thump that caused all of their hearts to stop beating simultaneously. Moments after, half a dozen armed guards were in the cellar, surrounding the group as a man slowly stepped down into the damp and dimly lit basement. What Dmitri could remember, aside from the sensation of icecold fear, was that the man appeared humble and modest even at that moment. His clothes were nothing to brag about, not for a plantation owner anyway, his face wasn't contorted in rage, it wasn't even discontent. Dmitri mainly remembers the words he spoke to them, offering them life, a better life. None of them could believe their ears, most didn't and ended up leaving the farm, but Dmitri stayed. What was there to return to after all? What was there to lose at that point? The man had no reason to lie, he already had all of their lives in his whimsical hands.


From that moment on, Dmitri slowly evolved from a disobedient streetkid to a loyal retainer of the man that saved him in more ways than one. Dmitri didn't become a guard, soldier or apprentice of the man in any way, but he was loyal and thankful of him for everythign he had done. He trained Dmitri in the arts he already had a knack for, he didn't enforce anything on him, but he did encourage Dmitri in his studies and training. After a long time, Dmitri had become fairly proficient in what he did, most of his skills weren't 'approved of' by most others. But if Dmitri had to guess, all the man tried to do was help him survive in the world they were in, even if he would be gone. As time passed, so did the man, but not before filling Dmitri's head with talk of a better world, a better place for them, but not one to come easy or without a fight. Basicly he was fueling Dmitri's short, rebellious, fuse and then...When the ruling Caste suddenly raided the plantation and captured Dmitri's teacher on the grounds of evoking rebellion and was a menace to Coral City's prosperity, he was ready to lay his life down to save the man. But he was told by his comrades that it wasn't his time to die, as they dragged him away to safety, he had only one goal in life from that moment on, as petty as it may seem, all he wanted in life was to hit Coral City where it hurt.


--


Let me know if anything needs editting or overhauling, cheers. ^^

Gonna need to change that name, but that's otherwise not unreasonable.

 

[Atom]

Errggghhh I'll get to this character this weekend! I've been busy. Sorry man.

 

[Carl]

Editted Dmitri Saratov into Talhar, I hope that one fits the setting more?

 

[Grey]

Methinks we could use a captain.


Lemme see some attempts at character creation in PM, folks. We're using the new rules.