Crimvale Keep

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At this rate I will be crippled.
 
*burns the Ilium rulebook in front of everyone*


Okay. Don't worry about the big events. I can drive those. I have plentiful ideas about what's in this chamber and the next and the next.

Focus on characterization for now. Let's find out who these people are and how they act around each other. As you can see from Lorn and Torrim, the focus on gritty Medieval realism is a soft one. We're in a High Fantasy setting, full of weird, magical and surreal shit - so we don't need heavy purple prose about how we might get cholera from our waterskins. Think of it like a Lord of the Rings adventure (wise-cracking Hobbits, pontificating Dwarves, bumbling Wizards, etc.).

Even if you do random shit, I can probably roll with it. As long as you don't completely yank the world-building reins from my clingy fingers. You're in a world that I have a pretty good grasp on, so you can relax. I'm not expecting ruthless initiative from all of you. You can react and shoot-the-shit if you're more comfortable that way. As long as your character is growing.

Right now, I'm interested in the party. Think about what your character thinks of the other characters, and paint me some cool scenes.
 
Okays, lets see what kind of trouble we can get into after Inqui Qui trololos off to take care of the amulet. =D
 
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[stabs=bcenter|800x600]
{slide=MUG|center}
Some are born with a face only a mother can love.

Mug's mother left him on a doorstep when he was two years old.

The boy spent his early years largely unsupervised, unless one counts the spite of the townsfolk as supervision. Neighborhood boys would hit him with sticks or throw stones (albeit to little effect), little girls would scream and flee when he smiled, shopkeepers would chase him away from their doors, and passersby would utter either curses or prayers over him in the same exact tone.

"Get your ugly mug away from me," they'd snarl. And so, with no idea what (if anything) his mother had called him before, Mug it would be from then on.

When Mug was six, he was caught picking a man's pocket. He might have lost his fingers but for the interference of a town official, who instead advised that the lad be sent off to work for the Riders who patrolled the forest roads between his hometown and the next town over. He was large and tough for his age and used to getting his hands dirty, and no one would have to look at him much when he was out of the way at the Riders' station.

When he no longer needed to beg or steal, he soon turned around in the eyes of at least the Riders if no one else (although he was still fairly repulsive in general opinion). After working a time in the stables, he was allowed to become an apprentice Rider in his own right and learn to ride, hunt, and patrol with the other boys.

Of course, that was before it all went to hell and he was blamed for the incident. No one would take Mug's word over that of a handsome steward's son. And so now, Mug has to make his own way in the world, far away from his home.

His only true friend is Mog, who was born in the Riders' stables. Mog was the runt of the litter, and Mug raised him from birth as well as protected him from being drowned by others not so keen on having pets.
{/slide}
{slide=MOG|center}Mog is a perfectly ordinary cat. {/slide}
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There is no such thing as a perfectly ordinary cat, Ozzie. And you know it. lol
 
You shut your whore mouth.
 
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Also, he is a really pretty man orc and it is a little unsettling.
 
Beauty is in the eye of the Beholder.

By which I mean, faggot.


He was a very ugly little boy. Especially to a town full of backwards hicks who didn't know what orcs were.
 
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I guess even Hispanic Orcs get rapey now and then.
 
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I take it this means I can play with the other girls and boys, Daddy?
 
No, I'm rejecting your character sheet like I always do.
 
And I'm ignoring your rejection like I always do.
 
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[fieldbox="Neles, plum, dotted"] Neles was a drunkard with a brawling problem. There wasn't a bar that didn't know his name, especially after the brawl that cost him his arm. When asked about it his is excuse for taking such collateral damage was "I wasn't drunk enough." Now prohibited from entering most bars he stumbles across a man who could help him with his arm. The alchemist fixes up an enchanted metal claw for him and stabs him in the back when he asks for money. The man died that day. Neles didn't like owing people.

Aside from his drinking and fighting problems Neles is good for something. He is a fine tailor and can fix up most cloth, a basic skill taught to him by his single mother. He made his own clothing with linen he won in a gambling streak, lucky day for him. He has little armor, but a surplus of weapons. 4 daggers rest on the belts around his hip, a sword almost never in its scabbard and a claw for a hand.

Image Source: Here[/fieldbox]
 
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Can I... Can I make a guy?
 
I dunno. Can you?

*Stares at Seiji, then turns to look at HUNTER*
 
The fuck you want, Seiji?

*eyes Seiji down from the front porch while wearing a vest*
 
Correct me if I'm in the wrong somewhere.
 
...


....yeah... so... an angry drunk misogynist, who seems to hate us all, is stumbling around and waving a sword, while insulting one of our dearest friends...
 
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