The ship rocked violently, the crew shouted and screamed, and the scent of fire and smoke permeated the lower decks. Below the din, Fiachra read. Peter died on the pages, and Fiachra wondered if he too would die here. Taken before his time, mourned by those he left behind, by his mother and father, his childhood sweetheart Gianna, his squire Lamont—Peter's death indeed was a thing to be lamented.
The sounds of death subsided, and Fiachra was left alone with the dust of his cell and the chains that bound him within it. The motes swirled in the air, and in it he saw images of a young girl. In a marketplace, she pilfered apples and bread; under the cover of a sprawling forest, a large beast chased her, but still she smiled; in a desert necropolis she was held in chains, indignation and rebellion clear in her eyes; on a skyship she stared wistfully toward the horizon. Her death, Fiachra thought, would be a tragedy.
“Who keeps treasure in a prison?”
A voice, full of irritation, drew him from his visions. The door to his cell rattled.
“And why is it locked?”
“Uh... most prisons have locked doors, Jet.”
The people on the other side banged and beat at the door in frustration. Eventually, Fiachra heard an exasperated sigh, and a louder thudding noise broke the handle of the door. It swung open and Fiachra saw the people responsible for the noise on the deck: a tall man with a half-smoked cigarette and a girl with indignant eyes.
The man put a hand on the back of his head and looked away, knowing the sort of baggage they had just come across. Jet lacked understanding.
“So... do you know where... the treasure is?” she asked Fiachra. She was positive he didn't. He was in chains, he was emaciated and scarred, and he looked like death. The room smelled of moth-eaten tomes, stale air, and a man who hadn't bathed in weeks.
The man put a hand on her shoulder and leaned down, whispering something into her ear.
“Nicolai, are you an idiot? That's a person. People can't be—”
“He's right,” Fiachra said, knowing what Nicolai had just told her. “It is me.” Jet stared at him incredulously.
“Well,” Nicolai said, “let's get him out of here. We'll figure the rest out on a ship that isn't about to sink.”
And so marked the beginning of their adventure.
Premise:
Spoiler
The Dawn Seeker, a noble skyship of ignoble purpose, is manned by Captain Jet, her first mate, Nicolai, and their navigators, Fiachra and Dorian (the goat). Aboard the Seeker, they travel across the world of Matala, having adventures, searching for treasure in both ancient tombs and modern coffers, and robbing people blind. These three are pirates. They are quite nice people, yes, but they pillage and murder and cause all sorts of havoc. You, too, are a pirate aboard the ship. How you found your way into the hearts of these three and joined up with them is your story to tell—my story to tell is what happens next.
An action/adventure roleplay with selfishness and material wealth as core motivations is the name of the game. Y'all just coast around through the sky, looking for wealth, attractive members of whichever sex strikes your fancy, and nifty artifacts or whatever. It doesn't really matter what you want, the point is that you can have it—by taking it illegally.
Where does the Action come in?
There will be some combat-related aspects to this. Available to you are martial proficiencies, various types of magic, and strange artifacts that grant mysterious powers—for example, Nicolai has a dagger that lets him meld into the shadows, with which he does various things. Mostly melding into shadows, but maybe other things. You can have one of these mystical items if you so choose, because seeing things, wanting them, and then taking them is, again, the name of the game.
Where does the Adventure come in?
This is an adventure roleplay because you will be exploring various locales, from forests to mountains to cities to deserts to tundras to whatever else. The sky is, quite literally, the limit. Sometimes you will go where I will you, and other times there will be choices for where the ship heads—no matter what, there will be various things to do in each place. The crew works together for big heists, but also allows for lots of personal whatever-the-fuckery to do what you so please.
Locations:
Spoiler
Ashlands -- An inhospitable region covered in ash at the base of a volcano.
Feln -- A city in a swamp known for its disreputable magic community.
Ivares -- A desert city with a large bazaar, known as a black market hub.
Laris -- A castle atop one of the highest mountains in the world, nestled within the clouds.
The Divide -- A large chasm that splits Matala in two.
Merchant States -- A coalition of city-states on the plains ruled by Merchant King Tybalt. Located in the center of one of Matala's largest continents, and as such is a hub for travelers going to other areas.
The Old Wood -- A mysterious forest with a constantly shifting layout.
Character Sheet:
Spoiler
[Appearance]
Name:
Age:
Gender:
Origin Story: How did you come to meet the crew of the Dawn Seeker? Why did you come along with them? Why did they let you? Include what you want to get out of the pirate life in this section--are you looking for something in particular, or do you just particularly enjoy murder and theft?
Skills: What are you good at? Swordsmanship, knitting, hambone, ...? No hard cap on skills, but be reasonable.
Equipment: Things from a sword, a knitting needle, or some magic artifact or something. Feel free to be imaginative, but again, be reasonable.
Example Characters:
Spoiler
Jet
Spoiler
Name: Jet
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Origin Story: Jet's father and Nicolai together made up a fearsome team of pirates. When Jet's mother died, her father brought her along on their ship, the Dawn Seeker, because it was the only life he knew how to live. When her father died as well, she took over duties as captain.
Skills: Theft, murder, needlepoint, ???
Equipment: Mysterious staff, childlike sense of wonder.
Nicolai
Spoiler
Name: Nicolai
Age: 39
Gender: Male
Origin Story: Nicolai was a pirate for most of his life along side his friend, Jet's father. When her father died, he took over the responsibility of looking after Jet.
Skills: Prophecy, reading, taking care of goats, fire magic.
Equipment: Wand, books, goat snacks (idk what goats eat).
Dorian
Spoiler
Name: Dorian
Age: ???
Gender: Male
Origin Story: When the Dawn Seeker stopped down for supplies, Fiachra found a goat. He really, really wanted it for some reason, so Jet allowed it. He named the goat Dorian, and they became the best of friends.
Skills: Goat.
Equipment: Goat?
Edited by Johnny Paradise, 04 December 2014 - 04:58 AM.
Origin Story: My first memory was of darkness. Endless blackness that stretch out before me infinitely. How long did I sit there before she found me? Decades? Centuries? Longer still? I don't know. I shiver at the thought. Metaphorically. I'm a mask you understand. See, just look up a bit at Jo there. See the mask? That's me. Sort of. I don't actually live in the mask but it is what anchors me here. I sort of just exist in the general area around it which is pretty cool except for the fact I can't interact with anything or anyone. Except Jo. I guess you can say she found me there and saved me from my solitary existence but that's not the whole story.
We saved each other that night.
I wasn't the only one that had been alone. Jo talked to me like her words were water and she was dying for thirst. They spilled out of her in a flood and I just sat there listening. What else could I do? Jo was so young back then but she strong, more so than she realized. She'd been for days by then. Her tribe had traveled south chasing game when they'd run across more than they bargained for. The pack of beasts tore through their camp with abandon and it was all the adults could do to buy time for their children. They used their bodies as shields to give them the opportunity to run. Jo might have been the only one left. She cried herself to sleep after that.
She thought the lie would help but it didn't. It just made the truth that much harder to understand. Afterall, how could anyone least of all a child understand why a family would abandon their daughter? She never said the words aloud but I knew the truth of it. It's a fundamental part of my being to understand. It's how I knew that this was the first time she had let herself feel that hurt. The first time she had felt safe since she'd been left behind. If believing the lie gave her peace than who was I to deny her that? It was easier than trying to explain what happened.
Things could only go up from there. We made that jungle our home. Did I mention that we were in the jungle? It's kind of important because that's where she grew up. A jungle as far as the eye could see and I taught her how to survive in it. I don't know how I knew these things I just did. The knowledge came to me unbidden as it was needed and so I passed it onto her. Jo was smart and skilled and learned faster than you'd expect for girl being lectured by a mask to. It was fun for a while but even the jungle began to feel small for Jo. She was a young woman now who burned to test her limits and so when a chance came how could I deny her?
Jo was curious about the pirates from the moment the Dawk Seeker landed in that clearing. It was coincidence that they'd come to look into the very ruins Jo had found me in. That's what she thought at least. I knew they'd come for me. I was the treasure they'd come all this way for. It was flattering really but pointless. I had already bonded with Jo. Bonded? Hmm...the word reminds me of something....but I don't remember what. Just out of reach and now it's gone.
Well, the short of it is Jo eventually revealed herself to them and guided them through the ruins and when they left empty handed she begged them to join as their chef.
Skills: Jo has all the survival skills down pat. She has a rough fighting style she picked up fighting animals in the wilderness. Her mainstay ability though is the bit of shamanim I taught her that lets her take on the aspects of animals and boost her natural abilities through imitation. It actually goes a bit beyond that but it was a bit over her head. I just told her to copy the animals and then eat them to gain their strength.
Equipment: Me (aka the mask if your forgot) and that's about it for now
The morning was cold as usual in Sipani, the city of fogs. Ratter took a sip from his flask, some foul concoction brewed by the local boys that helped ease the numbing pain of their daily routines, and let out a heavy sigh. Though he took odd jobs all around the city in order to support his day by day lifestyle, cleaning Duke Orlo's manor was the one he found he took most often and hated the most. He often thought about stealing something from the Duke's lavish collection of foreign arts, but he knew getting caught would mean certain death for him. First and foremost, he was a coward, so he kept content with a sigh and a fit silent swearing, relegating the idea of stealing something and leaving the godforsaken town forever to his fantasies.
Even if he did muster up the courage and manage to accomplish it, where could he actually go? He had few friends, none outside of the city, and certainly none that dealt with the buying and selling of stolen art. He would be on the run for a day? A week? A month? Some uncertain but probably brief amount of time living in fear of being caught before actually being caught and punished horribly. It was a fool's dream.
"Feh. Can't believe this stupid painting could feed a bloke for a lifetime..." Ratter began his daily ritual of complaints before dusting the area around Duke Orlo's greatest treasure, an original work of the painter Giradelli. It took him about three heartbeats to realize that the painting was, in fact, missing and another three heartbeats to realized that he was truly and thoroughly fucked.
"Ohgods. What do Oi do? Duke will think oi stole his stupid focking shite painting. Oi'm so focking dead, I am. Cor this would 'appen to me. On a bloody focking Monday!" Ratter frantically paced around the room trying to decided what to do next, because what was next was probably a painful death. He panicked further when he heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Was Orlo home already?
"Some master thieves we are. We get the painting but can't even find our way out of the goddamn castle," said one unfamiliar voice. A man's.
"It's not my fault! Who designed this place anyway?! It's so stupid. Look, we're right back to where we started!" cried out another.Someone far younger and distinctly more female. "Let's just blow a hole through the wall!"
"We don't even know if we're near the exterior! And the guards will be crawling all over us in minutes!"
"Grr. Stupid castle! Stupid guards! Stupid city with its dumb fog and rude people!"
So these were the thieves that stole Orlo's treasure. Should he try to capture them to prove that he didn't steal the painting? No...they sounded dangerous and armed, and even if he could somehow subdue them Orlo was likely to just execute him for good measure for even being involved. That left one option...
"Ey' take me with you!" Ratter yelled out, appearing from hiding spot. "Take me with you and O'll lead you out of here."
Skills: Ratter is skilled at squeezing into tight places, slipping by unnoticed, and keeping his mouth shut. Years living on the streets of Sipani have made him street smart and years working all around the city have given him a wide array of skills in various forms of menial labor. He can sweep floors, shine shoes, cook stew, and do a bunch of other worthless things.
Jonathan Ironnax Junior of the Ironnax family of Cornwell was once upon a time a simple university student - a young man meant to enter the high society of the empire and become an administrator or something in the colonial possessions. He would then add to the family fortune, earn himself a reputation, and eventually climb through the echelons of government and of upper class status until he could meet or, hopefully, surpass, his own father, who had been, in his time, vice-minister of the Admirality. He was in fact reared for the very purpose to be a most productive member of the empire. His father spared no expense to provide him a first class education - he tutored the young Jonathan himself in ancient languages, world history, mathematics, and even poetry. It was a lonely youth - his sole comfort was books and the promise that one day he would be a shining star. Jonathan wholehearted believe in his family's vision for himself and tried his hardest to fit their ideal. At the age of 18 he did his compulsory military service and saw action in the lands of Ulthar against rebels as part of the officer corp. There was a time where children of the upper class could do their military service without shooting a single bullet, but time had changed. The world was in turmoil. Rebels, pirates, terrorists - everyday there was an explosion, either of a building or of violence.
Jonathan was rather unprepared for the experience. Returned rather changed and with a trunk full of artifacts and books he had taken has war trophies. He enrolled at the University and began pursuing an intense course of philology. The books he had brought back were reputed to be spellbooks and work of great arcane worth - to the savages he had fought. To him it was of purely anthropological interest. He intended to couple his studies with his field notes from his two years in Ulthar to write a useful history of the land (none existed at the moment - all the ones currently available were pure rubbish) - it would be a good addition to his cursus honorum. Unfortunately for him, a scandal occurred in the imperial cabinet and his father fell into disgrace. Overnight his family was dishonoured, blacklisted from high society, and their money quickly running out as they staunchly insisted in pursuing their lifestyle despite being deprived of their imperial pension. Jonathan was now stuck at the University, and hoping the most from his situation, embarked seriously upon obtaining a doctorate. Unfortunately for him, the university also operated on considerations of status and his prospect for professorship, combined with his interest in a rather arcane field, made it unlikely he would ever find better employment than a schoolteacher.
Frustrated, he staked his chance on regaining some measure of prestige by making a serious archaeological discovery. Using the information he decrypted from the Ultharian tomes, he hoped to discover a major archaeological site that would bring him fame and fortune. Unable to gather an expedition, he decided to do it independently. Using the remains of his funds, he decided to hire a sky ship crew of dubious repute, The Dawn Seeker, to bring him there. It was only once he was on the ship that he realized what kind of repute they actually possessed. They were pirates. At first mortified, he played and eventually bartered with them to help him find the hidden city he believed to be located under ground. It turns out that the burial complex was in fact a supremely dangerous and evil place. The ensuing adventure was a sort of bonding experience for Jonathan and the rest of the crew and instead of giving the treasure to some museums, he used his connections with various art deals, private collectors, and some institutions, to trade in artifacts for large sums of money. He also decided to begin his own private collection, keeping some prime specimen of ancient historical significance and arcane splendor. Being a pirate might be his calling after all. There was nothing waiting for him back home for him anyway.
Skills: Bartitsu, marksmanship, knowledge of arcane lore, polyglot, knowledge of upper class mores
Equipment: canesword, tomes of eldritch lore, two pistols, two knives
Name: Damian Reed Age: Eighteen Gender: Male Origin Story: As a child, the only thing Damian ever wanted was to become a famous adventurer. To spend his life gaining riches beyond anyone’s imagination, slaying legendary beasts, conquering dungeons, and exploring ancient ruins; that was his dream. His parents were quite supportive, providing him with the best tutors and trainers that money could buy. Unfortunately, he misunderstood their kind gestures. Encouraging him to pursue such a profession wasn’t their goal. They simply humored Damian's whimsicality and childish fantasies with constant reassurance and false promises. His future was apparently already planned out without his knowledge. He was to succeed his father’s business as a dealer who specialized in the procurement of magical items. After reaching puberty, Damian was shipped off to the Merchant States where he started his apprenticeship in one of the emporiums owned by his family. Although disheartened, Damian accepted this as He too realized how farfetched his dreams actually were. However, it seemed fate didn’t want him to completely give up just yet.
She was probably around Damian's age. Her long, vibrant hair and undeniable charm quickly caught his attention. She came up to him and was inquiring about a certain artifact. With his legs quivering and heart aflutter, he wasn’t quite sure of what he told her. She simply smiled at Damian and went on her way. It took him several minutes to regain his composure but at that moment, he knew that he had to find out who she was. Setting aside his responsibilities, Damian spent several few days roaming the city, devoting his time to gathering up anything he could about his mystery girl. With every parcel of information he found, Damian couldn’t help but feel amazed. Her name was Jet, and despite being in the same age group, she had already accomplished so many things. Things that Damian wished he could have done. Things that he thought weren’t even possible for a child.
After finding these out, he couldn’t just stay put. To return to such a sedentary and mundane life was no longer an option. Although it was a brief encounter, meeting Jet had led to the rekindling of Damian's thrill-seeking spirit. He immediately gathered his belongings and fled the Merchant States, but before doing so, Damian had something that he had to do. With his freshly stolen sword – an item that he had his eyes on for quite some time - he abandoned everything that he previously had and left for a life that he had always yearned for. The consequences of what Damian did were no longer significant; he decided that this was clearly what was meant for him. For the next year, he wandered all across Matala in search of the Dawn Seeker. Jet was someone Damian couldn’t forget; if it wasn’t for her, he would still be spending his days rotting away doing something he had no passion for. Eventually, their paths had crossed and Damian was able to tell her his story. He wasn't quite sure if it was either out of pity or amusement, but it did not matter. She granted Damian his request and allowed him to join her crew.
Skills: Damian is a skilled fighter who knows his way around a blade. His other talents include item appraisal which is complimented by his vast subconscious knowledge of various artifacts.
Equipment:
PLACEHOLDER - An ancient blade from the northern continent which has been long forgotten by many. Legend has it that it possesses its own personality and tends to develop different personas when striking down foes.
Name: Timothy Twist Gender: Male Age: Twenty-Four Origin Story: Once upon a time there was a man named The Magician, and this guy, well, don't even get me started on this guy. Just know he was absolutely freaking insane. People called him The Magician because they couldn't pin him down with any other name. See most people of those fortunate enough to be born with magic get something straight forward. Fire magic. Wind magic. Easy-to-tie-a-ribbon-on-it-and-call-it-a-day magic. But The Magician was weird. He cared not for rules of normality. He didn't do just one thing. He does just about anything he wants. His magical gift lies in the incantation, not the result. If he can say it as a rhyme, he can make it happen. Which makes him just about the scariest thing ever.
So, when he strolled into the little town of Smug one day people didn't think it wasn't going to end well, because, as I said, he was completely insane. A young boy named Walter, who was obviously just minding his own business and not being nosy at all, overheard The Magician talking to himself. At some point he muttered a little rhyme. Now, as a 'stealthy' child who just heard something curious the first thing you do is obviously to repeat it aloud. And you do so a little louder than you should. And so, of course, The Magician heard him. And from that moment on he decided, for reasons only he understood, that young Walter Twist was his disciple. And that he had, in fact, always been his disciple. They just didn't know it at the time. It never even occurred to the Magician that Twist wasn't someone with magic. Or that he wouldn't want to go with him. Or that his family might have something to say about the whole thing. The idea that reality was in any way different to what he expected wasn't even a concept he could grasp. Because he didn't work that way. He simply said a little rhyme and Walter Twist follow after him as he strolled out the other side of the town. With another quick rhyme and a bit of magic everybody forgot what had happened. And that there was even a boy named Walter Twist in the first place. Even Walter forgot. Walter was now called Timothy Twist. Because the Magician felt it had a better ring to it. That was the day Timothy's training began.
A short time later The Magician asked his one and only beloved disciple a question. "What is your favorite thing?" He had asked. And little Timothy looked upwards to the clouds and told him his answer."The sky."From that moment onwards The Magician decided to make him a being of the sky. To be as free as the wind one must be untrappable. So he trained him to escape from ropes and chains. He taught him to pick locks and pockets. And he made him exercise a lot, so that he would become agile and flexible enough to fit through small spaces. And then he trained him in magic. Taught him to be a magician with power over the skies. Able to walk on air, ride the breeze, drink the clouds and eat little slices of the sky for tea.
That was the idea anyway.
I think I mentioned before that Timothy wasn't magical. The magic based parts of the training didn't go too well. One day The Magician took Timothy aside. "Son." He had said. For Timothy was his son. "I feared this would happen since the day you were born." He blinked back tears for a moment as if he was remembering a very happy moment. "Your power has been blocked. It's probably those mysterious, nefarious forces. They're always conspiring and doing things like this. So you must do as I did my boy. You must go on a quest. Search the forgotten and mystical places. Find yourself! Find your power! FIND IT AND THEN RETURN HOME! MAKE ME PROUD! I LOVE YOU SON! GOODBYE!" And then he pushed Timothy off the mountain.
As he fell Timothy wondered what this power was that he needed to find. And where he could find it. He wondered if he'd discover it before he hit the floor. He certainly hoped so. And then he moved on to wondering about many other things. About the nature of falling. The feeling of landing. His surprising and sudden hatred of the ground. The taste of sky. The glint of sunlight off of that guys sword. It was all too much. He couldn't think. And then he realized. It was literally too much. He should have hit the floor by now. Was he flying?! He looked around to find himself on board the deck of a ship. People who looked kind of confused and unhappy were staring at him. He ran over to one side of the boat to discover they were sailing through the skies. The Magician had sent him to the boat of his dreams to begin his journey. "I'll do it dad! I'm already flying! I'll make you proud! Just you wait and see!"He then turned back to face the crew and instantly received a big ole fist in the face.
After waking up he set about explaining things. At least, explaining things as far as he knew them, which was far from the truth. Eventually, after lots of begging, promises and puppy dog eyes, they decided they'd let him come with them if he made himself useful.
Skills: Acrobatics. Sleight of Hand. Pickpocketing. Lock picking. Escaping from being tied up. The theory behind lots and lots of sky based magic, but not a drop of the talent. Equipment: Lockpicks. His lucky scarf. A few knives. And a bag full of hopes and dreams.
Sign In
Create Account
Back to top
