Πέμπτη, 27 Ιανουαρίου 2011

Let the backrounds come to the foreground!



Αν και καθυστερημένα,ήρθε η ώρα να σας χαιρετήσουν και τα υπόλοιπα μέλη του RPG και σύ,εκ των οποίων o ένας είμαι εγώ(Fangs-First) και σύντομα θα γνωρίσετε και ένα τρίτο μέλος,τον κύριο Leechbane.Αν και ο κύριος Margrave είναι το ιδρυτικό μέλος του blog,δεν μπόρεσα να παραβλέψω ότι τόσους μήνες χρησιμοποιούσε για avatar το rune των Fenrir έχοντας παράλληλα το username ενός Shadow Lord(!).
Με συνοπτικές διαδικασίες που θα ήταν καλό να μην αναφερθούν στο blog, το avatar του κατασχέθηκε έτσι ώστε να είναι στα χέρια ενός σωστού κατόχου.Αυτό είναι ένα κομμάτι του roleplaying των Get Of Fenris που απορέει στην πραγματικότητα,καθώς το προαναφερόμενο tribe έχει μια συνήθεια να κατάσχει πράγματα όπως caerns,fetishes,heads,κλπ.Ως ένας Get και γω λοιπόν,βρήκα τη μοναδική ευκαιρία να κάνω με τον Storyteller μου real-life roleplaying...

Oι απολογίες μου κύριε Margrave,ελπίζω να συνηθίσεις το νέο σου γκέι avatar (Το οποίο παρεπιπτόντως σημαίνει "story"-storyteller-you get the point..)!

Ήρθε λοιπόν η ώρα για το πρώτο μου entry.
Aν και δε συμμετείχα,παρακολουθούσα την εξέλιξη του blog και παρατηρώντας πως μέχρι τώρα υπάρχουν 18 χρήστες με μια κάποια άποψη πάνω στα RPG,δεν μπόρεσα να μην αναρωτηθώ ποιά ιστορία -καλή ή κακή- κρύβεται πίσω απ' αυτούς τους χρήστες.
Δεν αναφέρομαι φυσικά στην real-life ιστορία σας,γιατί είμαι σίγουρος πως υπάρχουν πιο αρμόδια άτομα για να την εξιστορήσετε,όπως π.χ. ψυχολόγοι,οικογενειακοί σύμβουλοι,κάποιος ταξιτζής σε μια όχι ενδιαφέρουσα διαδρομή,κλπ. και επειδή εν πάσει περιπτώσει δεν περιέχει elves αμφιλεγόμενης σεξουαλικής ταυτότητας ή νάνους με προβλήματα αλκοολισμού.
Είχα λοιπόν την θαυμάσια ιδέα να postάρει ο κάθε χρήστης,αναφορικά ή με εκτενές λεπτομερές backround (όπως θέλει ο καθένας) το προφίλ του πιο επιτυχημένου χαρακτήρα που έχει δημιουργήσει ή είχε την τύχη ως storyteller να έχει ως player. Μπορείτε να μας στείλετε τα backrounds σας στην διεύθυνση rpgandyou@gmail.com,τα οποία θα δημοσιεύσουμε σε επόμενη ανάρτηση και αφού διαβαστούν θα ακολουθήσει ψηφοφορία για την επιλογή του καλύτερου και πιο επιτυχημένου χαρακτήρα.


Παρακάτω ακολουθεί ένα παράδειγμα χαρακτήρα που κατά την ταπεινή μου άποψη ήταν επιτυχής γιατί το κύριο συστατικό της επιτυχίας του ήταν πως επιτέλους ένας χαρακτήρας μου έφτασε 18 lvl (that's almost epic!) και είχε έναν ένδοξο in-game θάνατο,και δεν πέθανε επειδή οι σύντροφοι του αποφάσισαν να πηγαίνουν για καφέ (out-of-game) αντί να παίξουν μια φορά τη βδομάδα για λίγες ώρες D&D.


Setting: Dragonlance (War of the Lance)
Name: Keanor Gorstag
Race: Human
Class: Fighter 4/Cleric 1/Knight of the Crown 7/Knight of the Sword 6
Creation date: 6/2006
R.I.P. : 10/2008

Backround:

Do they really exist? Do they hear my prayers or my father died in vain? What kind of daemons got into my brother's head that terrible night? And who was that pale man with the dark plate besides my brother? Too many questions torture my mind yet no answers come forth...yet!

Five years have past since that painful day...My name is both recognised and dishonored for different reasons. My father was Sir Keldoran Gorstag who for his great achievements became a Knight of the Sword and advanced in the rank of the Clerist-Captain. He was a true believer and follower of the triad; Habbakuk, Kiri-Jolith and Paladine the Platinum Father. But he was a knight and a believer in troubled times. Three centuries have passed since the Cataclysm and most humanoids upon Krynn forgot their gods and now many people hate the knights because according to them the knighthood should had saved them. Many knights on the other side lost their faith and abandoned the knighthood; but not my father. I still remember the great legend of Huma, the brave knight and his beloved silver dragon, who delivered the fatal blow and caused the defeat of Takhisis, The Dark Queen long ago, back in the Third Dragon War. Huma didn't die in vain. He had a glorious and honorable death! I still remember my father telling us about the noble Gods and the honorable SoIamnic Knights protecting the weak and fighting evil with unmatched courage and self-sacrifice.

Well, he was in his mid 20's,a young lad, when he married a fine woman; Arianna. She gave birth to two boys, me and my brother, Connor Gorstag who is five years older than me. Our father raised us as a true knight should raise his children. He taught us the forgotten Oath and the Measure. We were about to become knights one day with our father behind us patting our shoulders full with pride for his two lads. But that day wasn't meant to come and responsible for this...is Connor!

When Connor reached adulthood, when Connor became a man he started questioning our father's judgement and doubted his words. He was arguing with him in a regular basis. "There are no gods you old fool"...i recall his venomous words in my mind. It was a shining dawn when Connor returned from his regular patrol to report to my father the location of a wandering goblinoid raiding party some miles away near the slopes of the Vingaard Mountains. I felt then that something was not right...something in Connor's face...something wrong. Regardless that ill notion of mine my father took some of his bravest men and left behind his trusted friend, brother-in-arms and Knight-Sergeant, Sir William Brightshield with a handful of loyal men to protect the Gorstag Castle ;a family heritage which dates back to the Age of Might, my home. Never telling him about my 'foolish' and 'childish' premonition, I tried to convince him not to go or at least to take me with him. "Oh Keanor, my brave lad, take thy sword and stay here to protect thy mother, for the goblins by a strange whim of fate might be foolish enough to come near the Castle while we are absent searching for them...and ye know something? Goblins are well known for doing foolish things" my father winked at me and said with his calm, warm voice and then holding his thin-trimmed moustache laughed with his heart, patted my head reassuringly and left with Connor and his men.

It was late in the night when men with dark armors somehow infiltrated the castle and attacked the Solamnic defenders. We were outnumbered and when Sir William and his men barricated themselves behind the reinforced doors in the main hall the attackers started to set fires on everything. Even as a young boy who yet had to feel a woman's touch, I managed to hold my wits together. Instead of cowering behind the heavy door of my parent's room trying to protect my mother with a trembling hand on my sword and waiting for the unseen foe to eventually burst through the room, I stood up and suggested that i should bring help. To my astonishment my mother with a confidence in her eyes which till now strikes me dump and an eerie calmness in her voice she said: "Yes my beautiful boy, that would be the best for all of us. "That was the last time i saw her...Thus, boosted by her confidence and too young and anxious to be troubled with her strange behavior and her unorthodox decision to let her son take such a perilous risk, I negotiated the, well known to me, paths and corridors of the castle and I slipped past the enemy almost unseen. Not even Sir William and his men noticed me. I've reached the stables of the Castle I took my trusted steed and i rode east to my father...

Only to find, near dawn, his men dead to a man and my father on his knees with a sword stabbed in his back! Not a single sound managed to find it's way up through my mouth. I couldn't breathe...the wielder of the sword was my own brother, his own son! Connor betrayed him and led them into an ambush while an organized group of infiltrators were burning my home to the ground. In a fraction of time I found my self in the ground and my trusted steed killed by arrows. Striken with burning tears and a single scream "FATHER...???"I drawed my sword and I charged. "Hold your weapons. I will handle this on my own." It was Connor's cold voice talking to a bunch of dark armored warriors. I fought my insolent brother...and I lost. With a grievous wound on my chest it was my turn to kneel before my brother's sword. He disarmed me and hit me on the head with the pommel of his sword. I closed my eyes and pleaded for a final, clear hit. Not like what he did to our father. That final hit never came. "Finish him..."I've heard but it wasn't Connor's voice. I opened my eyes and it was then when i saw this black hooded pale man. "No...he has nowhere to go. His family is dead. He will die from bleeding soon..."Connor disagreed. The pale man nervously backed down "We must leave the area immediately. Don't be late. "said to my brother and walked away shouting orders to his men. Connor looked into my eyes. "He was an old fool and he died like one. Something big is coming and his gods cannot help us. There is only one path...the one I chose. I bid you farewell my brother and i hope you'll be dead till the day of Her coming, or else you will suffer..."So with these last words on his behalf they took their horses and left. Dizzy and wounded as i was i finally mastered whatever left of my strength and crawled myself near my father.

He was still breathing...I took him in my arms. He was coughing blood out of his mouth. "No man, no knight, no father deserves such death. Do not cry my son. The Noble Gods are waiting for me. I am sure They have kept a nice seat for me up there. Please do not heed your brother's words, he is confused. Just live my child, live to be a good man Keanor, be honorable and just. I am really proud of you..."and he passed from this world...

Full of tears i took his golden ring with the emblem of the Gorstags on it, a family heirloom which passes from father to firstborn since before the Cataclysm. After wearing it mixed thoughts consumed my mind. Images from the past, riddles about the future, questions about Connor. Why did he spare my life? Was it compassion for his little brother? No !A man who kills his father and conspirates to burn his home cannot feel compassion in his heart. Such a man can only be evil in his heart. With these thoughts a layed beside my father's body till I fell unconscious. I hardly remember the least expected being, or the most expected for many, a curious kender carrying me and my father's body with his mule to the nearest town; the city of Hardoth. The following day as i woke up i was informed by Sir William who survived from the assault that the Gorstag Castle was burned to the ground and much to our dismay that he couldn't find my mother or her body before the final decision to evacuate the castle. Poor mother...She must have been trapped into the castle. I failed to protect her and now I lost both. I really hope for a lethal arrow or someone's blade to have stolen her life before the untamed flames. The same day, before I even recovered from my wounds i went to the ruins of my home escorted by Sir William and the few knights and squires who survived from the attack and buried the corpse of Keldoran Gorstag, my father. We mourned for the terrible loss and we granted them a funeral only a true knight, his kind wife and his noble fallen comrades could hope for. We devoted the following days to the raising of their tombs in front of the ruins.

Now I am at Sir William's service as his squire. Do not worry my father. I will not dissapoint you. I will achieve knighthood and I will live by the Oath and the Measure but I will find Connor, my father. I will hunt him down for his crime and when I’ll find him...I will face him and by the God's will, I’ll redeem him and I will bring salvation to his tortured soul by sending him near Them. My destiny is written, father, and by the Gods I shall fulfill my destiny. That’s MY oath!

Est Solarus Oth Mithas.




Το να εξιστορήσω τα γεγονότα και να περιγράψω τα encounters του χαρακτήρα μιας campaign που διήρκησε 2 χρόνια είναι αδύνατον.To μόμο που θα πω είναι πως ο Keanor πέθανε 18 lvl ρίχνοντας έναν Daemon Warrior με ΠΟΛΛΑ character levels και δεν είχε αρκετά hit points για να γλυτώσει από τα death throes,κατά τα γεγονότα που διαδραματίστηκαν στο Chaos War. Θα ευχαριστήσω απλά τον Wizard Melcor Kainus και την DM,με τους οποίους καταφέραμε να δώσουμε ένα αξιοπρεπές τέλος στους χαρακτήρες μας.

Περιμένουμε λοιπόν τα δικά σας backround profiles και stories.Στην περίπτωση ψηφοφορίας,μην ψηφήσετε τους εαυτούς σας,παλιοτσίτερς.





p.s. Κακάο γράψε οπωςδήποτε το profile και τα lines του Willimac "The Swift To Flee" !!!

Πέμπτη, 20 Ιανουαρίου 2011

The tale of Lupold and Ravetti

There once was a wolf named Lupold who was black as coal, as thick as a tree trunk, and feared like death.
He had teeth the size of carving knives, powerful claws of stone, and eyes that glowed like fat fire flies.
He could smell your sweat before the first bead broke from your skin, he could hear your heart beat from miles away and he could see you even in the blackest of pitch.
No one knew the real Lupold. Under the menacing exterior he was the most harmless and lonely wolf to ever bay at the moon.
No one knew that he'd swear eternal loyalty to you if you would only scratch his belly.
He would love you forever if you would only run and play with him, and he would follow you to the ends of the earth if you would only call him friend.


There once was a crow named Ravetti. Ravetti was very much like Lupold.
He too was black as pitch, weighted with might, adorned with fearsome claws and glowing eyes, and as frightening as a crow could ever be.
Only Ravetti was not a lonely crow, and far from harmless.
Ravetti the crow was friends with each and every creature. He was comical and clever, he lavished compliments and told wonderful stories.
Yet no one knew, Ravetti was poisonous to his hollowed-bone core.
Only becoming your friend to make ruining your life all the more sweet. He made the hen hunt the worm, the fox hunt the hen, and the man hunt the fox.
He made every thing an enemy to another, all with a smile, a kind word, and a "How ya doin?"
One night while coaxing moths to a flame, Ravetti realized he was being watched.
At first, Ravetti was naturally frightened by Lupold's presence, but when Ravetti looked closer, he saw a deep sadness in the fearsome wolf's eyes.
Never passing up a chance to exploit a weakness, Ravetti ventured a few words with the forlorn beast.
"The moon is sure bright tonight, isn't it?"
Lupold, at first shocked that the bird did not flee instantly upon seeing him, replied,
"The moon, my only friend, a balefire that keeps me company during the lonely night."
Just as he did with every other creature, Ravetti treated Lupold with kindness and quickly won his trust.
He listened to Lupold's tale of loneliness oh so attentively and by the time the story was over, he had already hatched a mischievous plan to torment him.
"Brother, I'm good friends with the villagers. The way to get in good with them is through their children. Make friends with the children. Children love wolves," Ravetti explained.
Lupold was so lonely he needed no convincing, he agreed straight off to go to the village the next night and make friends with the children.
Lupold thanked Ravetti for his advice and they parted ways.
The next day before Lupold was to arrive, Ravetti flew into the village and told everyone about a town in the north that had been attacked by the black wolf,
the children stolen in the middle of the night.
The terrified villagers thanked Ravetti for his warning and set up, waiting in case the wolf should come, looking for a late night snack.
That night when Lupold came to befriend the children he was met by the villagers, who chased him off into the woods, where he spent the night running for his life.
Ravetti was so amused by the outcome, the next day he flew from village to village warning the people of a deadly black wolf that steals children in the night.
Soon hunting parties were formed. They combed the woods every night, looking for Lupold.
Running for your life every night is not an easy thing to do, and because of it Lupold became an angry, desperate wolf.
His once soft and good natured heart was turned as black as his fur.
This one time harmless wolf became what everyone thought he was, a vicious predator ready to prey on whomever should cross his path.
One night a very old and very weary wolf came across a line of crows sitting on a fence on the outskirts of a small village.
Upon sight of the wolf all but one of the crows flew away. "Do I know you," asked the wolf.
The crow recognized the wolf instantly, but decided it best not to let on. "I think not, brother," the crow answered.
"Oh, forgive me. I'm just a tired, old, hungry wolf. I've spent the last ten years running from hunters. I don't remember much else," the wolf explained.
"You must be the infamous black wolf that steals babies in the night," said the crow.
"It's true I killed many, but only for survival. I know not why they hunt me," the wolf added.
"What a sad story indeed. Let me go to the village and get you something to eat. You stay here and rest," the crow offered.
The crow smiled and then flew to the village, convinced that the wolf did not recognize him.
Once there, the crow woke the villagers, alerting them to the black wolf waiting on the outskirts, near the woods.
They came running, ready to kill the infamous black wolf. When they arrived the wolf was gone.
"Perhaps he went into the forest," the crow posed. The villagers went into the forest, foolishly following his tracks to a wall of thorns with only one way out.
When they reached the dead end the wolf was hiding. He surprised and killed all the villagers, save one.
The crow was rather amused at the unexpected but enjoyably gruesome outcome.
As the wolf watched one villager run away, the crow sat on a high branch, cackling, well out of reach.
"What are you laughing at, friend," the wolf asked.
"Well brother, you see I was planning on delivering you to the villagers, and instead I delivered the villagers to you. No matter," said the crow.
"Why ever would you do such a thing," asked the wolf.
"Because I'm Ravetti and I'm friend and betrayer to all. I made the hen hunt the worm, the fox hunt the hen and the man hunt the fox and I made them hunt you.
I am the one responsible for all your misery. Years ago, I was the one who made everyone fear you and by eating those villagers you have become my lie,"
chattered Ravetti.
To this the wolf replied, "Yes I have become what you made me but I knew you were Ravetti, which is why I let you lead them to me.
It is also why I allowed that last one to live, so he will return and tell everyone about an evil crow that led them to slaughter.
No one will ever listen to your kind again. They will fear you, they will hate you.
They will throw rocks, chase you off their lands and never let you rest for more than a moment in their presence.
In their eyes you will be the bearer of bad tidings and a sign of evil.

Now we truly are brothers," and with that the wolf walked off into the woods, licking his lips from his malicious feast,
leaving Ravetti to wallow in his bleak future.