December 06, 2019, 01:16:57 PM

Author Topic: RPG: Lore  (Read 9817 times)

Offline m3mnoch

Re: RPG: Lore
« Reply #15 on: August 31, 2015, 03:38:23 PM »
I want to like Dr Chill posts here...so I will, can I like the Topic?

this.  so very hard, this.

Offline Doctor_Chill

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Re: RPG: Lore
« Reply #16 on: August 31, 2015, 03:46:04 PM »
Just one comment: you chose a picture of a Musketeer for the Southerners, hehe, not very appropriate (and if you haven't watched that series, go on, I think you'll enjoy it ;D)

I'm not sure what Scarlet is, to be honest...

Ah, I couldn't pick a good picture for the Southerners. All desert people I could find were white and I didn't want that. That picture was originally for the Islanders, but as I said, I didn't want white people for the Southerners. The only other good picture was an elf woman who you could only tell if you were looking for the ears, but it still bothered me. Besides, it was all violence-y and I didn't want that either. :-\

Unsure what Doc is either. Exactly why we need about four more Human subsets.

Belgarium is one of the little islands in the Objectionist Ocean and we're one of the many Nublan countries  :) Most Fantasian citizens including the people of Belgarium claim we don't exist. Our slogan: ceci n'est pas Belgarium.

I'll note it down when I get back to the map. (Not in my dorm, sadly.) But I will note that Belgariums are under the Nublans, just like the Monkey people (not to be confused with the Monkey-People) or the Urchins and Naturalists.

I want to like Dr Chill posts here...so I will, can I like the Topic?

this.  so very hard, this.

Gah, thanks man.
“It’s a dangerous thing, pretense. A man ought to know who he is, even if he isn’t proud to be it.” - Tomorrow the Killing, Daniel Polansky

Offline Doctor_Chill

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Re: RPG: Lore
« Reply #17 on: August 31, 2015, 04:03:53 PM »
Ah, Henry! Bulgarium can be that little island next to the Sea Urchin one, ya see? That fine with you?

Also, taking requests for Human races. I'm thinking one near the World's Spine (for Doc), people near Gibson City (a post-apoc city where skyscrapers dominate the skyline), and anybody else. Also for Elves (probably should do one for High Elves even though they're extinct) or anything else you want.

I probably won't be doing any more races this week because of classes, so that gives me time to think on ideas. :(
“It’s a dangerous thing, pretense. A man ought to know who he is, even if he isn’t proud to be it.” - Tomorrow the Killing, Daniel Polansky

Offline Henry Dale

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Re: RPG: Lore
« Reply #18 on: August 31, 2015, 04:13:12 PM »
Ah, Henry! Bulgarium can be that little island next to the Sea Urchin one, ya see? That fine with you?

Also, taking requests for Human races. I'm thinking one near the World's Spine (for Doc), people near Gibson City (a post-apoc city where skyscrapers dominate the skyline), and anybody else. Also for Elves (probably should do one for High Elves even though they're extinct) or anything else you want.

I probably won't be doing any more races this week because of classes, so that gives me time to think on ideas. :(

Yer little island is ok for Belgarium :)   *sings the joyous Belgarian anthem until he is swiftly beat up by the gang*

Offline Doctor_Chill

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Re: RPG: Lore
« Reply #19 on: August 31, 2015, 04:23:11 PM »
Ah, Henry! Bulgarium can be that little island next to the Sea Urchin one, ya see? That fine with you?

Also, taking requests for Human races. I'm thinking one near the World's Spine (for Doc), people near Gibson City (a post-apoc city where skyscrapers dominate the skyline), and anybody else. Also for Elves (probably should do one for High Elves even though they're extinct) or anything else you want.

I probably won't be doing any more races this week because of classes, so that gives me time to think on ideas. :(

Yer little island is ok for Belgarium :)   *sings the joyous Belgarian anthem until he is swiftly beat up by the gang*

“It’s a dangerous thing, pretense. A man ought to know who he is, even if he isn’t proud to be it.” - Tomorrow the Killing, Daniel Polansky

Offline Doctor_Chill

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Re: RPG: Lore
« Reply #20 on: September 06, 2015, 02:43:13 AM »
The RPG Races

Humanoids, Ogrids, Faeries, and Halfers (Part 1)


Ah, those other people that are not Elves or Humans. The anecdotes in most literature. I remember. Sorry about tacking them on at the end, but y'know, they're easy to forget. Not much progress has been seen by these "mutants," or much of anything really. They stay in there respective lands. They play nice for the most part.

Uninteresting bunch of yaks. It's as if the Gods got bored and decided to throw together a mish-mash of elements and see what stuck.

We can blame the halfers on Humans and Elves, though. That's purely their fuck up.

Spoiler for Gnomes:


Mostly a happy-go lucky people, these calculating engineers do not stray far from scientific pursuits. But that does not mean they are boring. Quite delightful company, in fact, a gnome can talk your ear off just as much as give cryptic one liners. But one thing is certain: Those ruddy-nosed individuals can always keep your attention.

Most are concentrated in the Gnome Republic, the 4th Principality of Fantasia, but others walk freely throughout the Realm. Still, it is rare to find one that has strayed too far from their homeland. They are a traditional people in that regard, even if they question everything that moves.

Most Gnome houses are cut into the hillside like their Hobbit ancestors, while others construct mighty towers of many machinations and alliterations to live comfortably amongst the world.

Happy-go-lucky, inquisitive, and often humorous, Gnomes live in coexistence with many races including Humans, Dwarves, Halflings, and a whole subset of Others. Their society is quite easily the most tolerant of other beliefs, and most themselves do not deal well with discrimination. But then, they’re usually too deep in their studies, workings, or fun to really notice it, but when they do, Heaven help you.

A Gnome’s anger is the one thing all wise men fear.

You could say Gnomes trust in science, that being their main deity, but they laugh that off as mere nonsense. Why trust in something when you can know for certainty?

Spoiler for Hobbits:


They’re dead now. We don’t talk about them.

Primarily because Tolkein won’t release the copyright privileges to us. But we can talk about their hairy feet. That's just disturbing.

Spoiler for Orcs:


Far on the other side of the world lies the Orcs. Tribal beings mostly, these towering juggernauts flit from grassland to grassland, vying for control and playing cards to see who holds the next watering hole.

It is a subtle play at territories, you must understand. They would never resort to violence.

See, many, many moons ago, right after the Elves had been shattered across the plains, the Orcs had decided they would become the next great Race. Rivers of blood poured from all corners of the Realm. They fought tooth and nail against every scrap of resistance. Everybody wanted to win.

Soon it became full-blown civil war, and the Orcs forgot who their real enemy was: The Humans. Thus they settled on their strip of land between the Still Sea and the Vast one, too. They try and live a content life giving back to the world best they can.

You can see that in the way their culture worships the dinosaurs. Velociraptor parts in particular is used for many things, from bowls made of their stomach to clubs made of bone to boots cut from their hide and more.

Nothing goes to waste in the Orc society.

And when they’re not swimming through the reeds, they settle biannually at their capital of Uthruki to discuss policy, their favorite pastime.

Yes, the Orcs are a boring shadow of yesterday, but some scholars call them the most advanced. “Only the white man would make you pay for what you killed,” a chieftain once said.

Orcs pray to Velma, and usually Velma only.

Spoiler for Goblins:


For lack of a better word, Goblins are fucking insane.

They are the ones that play with fire after being burned twenty times. They postulate. They experiment. They try new things and often paint on eyebrows. If these midgets knew half of what they were doing, they might’ve evolved past a mere footnote in history.

But because their brains are the size of a pea, they do not. They continue their existence hoping to make the next big breakthrough. Or at least have a pretty awesome fireworks show in the meantime.

You can find one in nearly every major city. They’re like vermin. And you can’t kill ‘em, hard as you might try. Not only do a good number of laws frown upon that, they’re slippery fools, too.

If anything positive can be said about Goblins, it’s that they know how to survive.

Like many others, alchemy is their main fix. Their unofficial web is tinged with information only they can decipher, and wonders only they can craft. Second to only Gnomes, these bastards can solve nearly any problem you send their way.

It may take three years to find results, but they’re consistent and single-minded.

Some people call that thick-headedness and stubborn. Make of that what you will.

Like their brethren the Gnomes, they do not worship a god either. Okay, maybe Mischief, but that’s about it.

Spoiler for Ogres:


Ah, giants. I mean Ogres. One of the rarest of all races, these towering hulks are also the least diverse of any people. They guard tombs. They live under bridges. Some are scripted into military service. You can see a pattern here.

Very few are used for intellectual pursuits, and with good reason. Like Goblins, their brain too is extremely small. Their capacity for abstract thought is usually near nonexistent. They think one line. They do. Rinse. Repeat.

Of course, some brilliant minds are born from these people. I mean, who else could’ve invented indoor plumbing?

We are unsure what Ogres worship. We believe it is an animistic doctrine, or maybe it is just pie. I dunno.

Spoiler for Under Dwarves:


Most commonly referred to as “Dwarves,” these cavern dwelling folks probably don’t like you. As a society as a whole, they’re largely xenophobic. Immigrants once took all their jobs in mining; there was union work soon after, deportations, and because these dwarves live a good two or three centuries breathing clean air and drinking chemical free water, they haven’t forgotten.

Sadly they won’t let us forget neither.

Strong proponents of the 2nd Amendment, the Under Dwarves usually solve all their problems with swords first. They do not have a Parliamentary system like most other nations, or even a constitution. Their absolute monarchy might seem draconic, even under a vastly decentralized government system, but it works for them.

They don’t like change; they like their cider and drinking till noon before the labor actually begins. Yes, most near every Under Dwarf is a hard worker (not hard working, you must remember, for who the hell knows why). They break their backs, but don’t have sufficient medical services to fix them, sadly.

So they grumble the day away, kill their opponents for dwindling resources, blame said lack of resources on every Surface dweller, and proceed to repeat the cycle.

Most of the tunnels are lavishly built though, so that’s a plus for tourists.

They worship the Stone they’re born from or some shit like that.

Spoiler for Surface Dwarves:


Quite nearly the opposite of Under Dwarves, these cheerful wanderers, well, wander. Mostly a motley crew of outcasts, merchants, or religious fanatics looking for refuge elsewhere, all of the Surface Dwarves make their home anywhere but under a roof.

They prefer the open landscape and the stars for some reason. It’s an odd trait for them all to share, but most do.
 
To date there is no known settlement of pure Surface Dwarves like there are Under Dwarves or Elline Dwarves. You can grasp why.

Usually more accepting than their brethren, these “vertically challenged” people are a hardy folk like most races on the Surface. They till away their day building crafts for the next market, tending sheep on the trail, or smoking away the worries of the day. See, smoking is outlawed under the mountains for obvious reasons.

But because of all of this freedom, the Surfacers are a lot more lackadaisical. Freebird might be their jam, if you were so inclined to attach one to a specific race. Seriously, it’s hard to pin them down, metaphorically and literally speaking.

Though one thing is for certain: Most near all of them worship Fortuna. I wonder why.

Spoiler for Elline Dwarves:


Named after their founder, Elline Dee the Generous, this concentration of women dwarves coexist close to Mount Badger. They eke out their existence alone or in small communities because, “We don’t need no men.” End quote.

Vastly individualistic and preoccupied with civil liberties, these women have learned to harness one thing no other Dwarf can: Magic.

Yes, the Stone blessed them eons ago.

But because they are Dwarves, they can’t let anything go, so the other men and women get mail weekly proclaiming the vast superiority of the female race. Yes, there’s a reason they have to steal men to procreate with and keep their line going. (Insert sex dungeon joke here.)

To call these magicians insufferable would be an understatement.

But some scholars call them the most advanced civilization, right alongside the Orcs. Now if only that patriarch system could get in with this matriarch one, they might could create a utopia.

Or the end of the world. It’ll be a fun movie night no matter what.

They worship Velma or Fortuna, namely because the Stone is popularized as old fashion and a product of “male privilege.”

Yeah.
“It’s a dangerous thing, pretense. A man ought to know who he is, even if he isn’t proud to be it.” - Tomorrow the Killing, Daniel Polansky

Offline Doctor_Chill

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Re: RPG: Lore
« Reply #21 on: September 07, 2015, 08:48:27 PM »
The RPG Races

Humanoids, Ogrids, Faeries, and Halfers (Part 2)


They just don't stop, now do they? What will we do with the world? And how can a people so interesting *cough* be subjected to the boring insights of Humans and Elves? It's ludicrous. Why haven't they risen up yet and thrown off the shackles of humanity?

Why are they still here? Are you even listening?

Spoiler for Satyr:


Not to be confused with Atku Agents, these half-goat men and women are a largely peaceful group of individuals vying for environmental concerns, LGBTQ rights, and the will for everyone to own equality.

The smoke a lot of leaves, too, but that’s only in specified instances.

The Satyrs are a people nature. They root around among the Wood Elves and sing songs while they pick berries or weave baskets or whatever they do in their free time. While perhaps a carefree society, they are also largely characterized by their mischievous actions.

They set in place the Orc Civil War. They invented Atku and his mythology to turn away their own shortcomings. They are not a people to be messed with, least of all because if you disagree, they have horns and hooves to back up their argument.

They make their home primarily in the Cloven-Hoofed Hills, but some are known to travel outside of these boundaries, mainly by their own two feet. It is common knowledge that all Satyrs hate riding on ship. People tell me they don’t have any sea legs or something. I’m not entirely sure.

I do know that they love to write scripts, usually satire and puns, but that’s neither here nor they. No, the biggest literary hits do not come from this race, if that was under any question.

They worship Mischief most of all, but on some rare occasions, you might find a devout follower of Atku. They get thrown to the wolves real quick, however.

Spoiler for Pixies:

Scrappy, unreliable, and always ready for a fight, these hummingbird maniacs flit from magical essences and high jobs at casinos to run amok in all the marshes in between. They’re crazy and chaotic and the local honey-high population wouldn’t have it any other way.

Make sense? No? Didn’t think so.

These faeries are insane.

Disheveled hair and always energetic, Pixies are the cousins nobody talks about. Most talk at the speed of a bullet, and near all are as mischievous as a Satyr or Alchemist. They love playing pranks and dancing under the stars.

Highly religious, though, they always attend church matters when called, even from all corners of the Realm. They try and please their brothers and sisters and hey, even the ancestors, too. Pixies have an image to keep up, and if there’s anything more than their infamous pixie sticks they like to taunt us with, it’s their reputation, too.

Who did what and where they accidently exploded that one mountain for laughs is always key to remember.
They like jokes as well.

Pixies worship Fortuna or Nighteyes.

Spoiler for Dryads:


Whereas Pixies are cousins to Faeries, Dryads are cousins to Wood Elves. Bred from tree spirits and enveloped in the image of Elves, these lithe and sometimes wooden figures dwell high in the tree tops of jungle nations. Primarily a matriarchal system, the women hold the pronoun and the pants in most situations.

Too bad they wear leaf skirts most of the time, men included.

Earthen colored people, their skin and hair ranges from green to brown to black or gray and all kinds of shades or hues in between. Their body can be rough or smooth, hair waxy, thick, or thin as reeds. Often accidentaly called nymphs, these tree spirits do not enjoy the company of water, or water people in general. They keep to the skies, maybe because their dreams are populated by being tied down by roots.

Who knows?   

Their culture is a very collective society. They move to the beat of each other. They function as one and dream together, all connected to the branches of the Mother Oak. They worship nature as a whole and try their best to be environmentally conscious.

They are quite possibly the nicest people you will ever meet, long as they’re high off of their leaves like the Satyrs.
If not, well, they can be pretty passive aggressive. That or thump an arrow at you. They’re remarkable archers and train all their children from the second they’re found.

Dryads worship Nighteyes or Cthulhu, strangely enough. Though most revere the Mother Oak most of all, but see that more as a parent than anything.

Spoiler for Vampire:


Huddled in eternal twilight, these beings of the night are a curious bunch. Immortal and UVA-intolerant, Vampires are said to be a product of a virus rather than a curse or bad blood or anything scandalous.

They are a nocturnal bunch as you may know, living in a dome only they can see squeezed into that city called the Vampire Court. Good bit of pretentious people, you must understand. They are a charming species, however, that can regale you with all sorts of mysteries, enigmas, and tales of fancy.

They can talk your ear off. They can dance to a tune only they can hear.

They are the perfect hosts.    

They also like to sing and perform even if they’re always tone-deaf, the hedonistic bunch.

It is said that they created the first lines of chamber music, but you see, the origins are usually left out. It started off as wails into the night, which we shall not delve further into, but soon became soft, lilting promenades from a grand piano or perhaps a tug on the heart strings by one violin. That’s about the only genre of music they’re good at, and only because they’ve had centuries to perfect the score.

Vampires live by drinking decaf blood most of the time, though some have been known to drain the film off of their human “partner’s” reserve. It is still under investigation if they can use hypnotic powers for such advances or not.
 
They do not like garlic (the taste is wonky it seems), and they do not prefer any god over the other. They like to proclaim that they are gods among mortals, but any loon on the street can proclaim that, especially when they only stay on one street.

Yes, the Courts of Red, Black, and White stay to themselves, mostly, entrenched in coffins or mansions without windows. See “Nocturnal Habits” from above.

Spoiler for Sirens:


These insufferable sea women are always too far off in the distance, it seems. Their voices are like honey, and their hair strands of beauty. They are the most perfect beings in all the land. Their songs are rumored to shake the very foundations of Heaven, and the Gods? How they bow to them.

Ahem. Where was I?

Ah yes. Sirens. Slippery fools, these enchanting women are shady indeed. They lure unsuspecting sailors to their jagged rocks, because only men and women that’ve been alone at sea for so long would ram their ships straight into cliffs.

Yeah, ‘bout as bad as teenage boys.

They live on near every rock from the North all the way down to the very tips of Monkey Islands and beyond. If it’s solid, they’re sold.

Some have wings. Others flippers. Very few run around with clothes on, so they aren’t allowed in restaurants, unfortunately. They have to scavenge for shellfish and loot the corpses of their victim sea men.

They are a resourceful bunch, but still haven’t managed to crochet a large net to just capture a boat or something. Especially the ugly sirens. Not even the voice of an angel would make me want to hit them.

Suffice to say, the only thing they worship is beauty and dead bodies.

Sounds like people who enjoy Shakespeare.

Spoiler for Elementals:


Carved from the elements, Elementals are the Gods’ big middle finger to all of humanity. They are born and bred from the four elements (Earth, Water, Fire and Air), shaped by chance and crafted to create havoc. Elementals are not like most of the other races, in part because they are not solely from this plane of existence. They shift in between and know things some intellectuals wouldn’t even dare dream of uncovering.

They prance among the world, lobbing fire balls or upheaving the terrain to their whim. They work for only themselves and are highly unpredictable, the lot. They do not listen. They do not like authority, and especially not being chained to some wizard or sorcerer.

Elementals are often times mistaken for other races. The big distinction is that they are pure and formed merely by said element, and more times than naught, it’s obvious once they tell you. Might cut your head off in the process (how could you insult them?!), but you’ll be certain they’re not that, yeah.

But that’s just Fire Elementals, mostly. The rest are nice.

For reference, a quick rundown of what they’re not: Fire Elementals are not Hellions, not matter if their temper is just as fiery. Air Elementals are not wind riders or witches with broom sticks, even if they can both “ride the waves, dude.” Earth Elementals are not giants and never will be; one is made of pure stone, ya idiot. And Water Elementals are not mermaids or Sirens. They’re pure water and not to be confused with those beautiful creatures.

Their personalities are also usually in line with their respective elements, but I won’t go into great detail on that. Very stereotypical. Fire is hot-headed. Water is cool and calm. Earth is stoic. Wind carefree or uncaring.

Y’know how it goes.   

They don’t worship, though. A mortal thing, they call it, believing in a higher power and all that nonsense.

Spoiler for Were-Coyotes:


Dastardly beasts, Were-Coyotes are a subset of Were-creatures cursed with both some brand of archaic lycanthropy along with the need to procreate fast as rabbits. Oodles of them inhabit the 3rd Principality. But they were displaced when Fantasia took over and now scramble to keep a dying culture alive while they wander.

They are defined by their tongue, speaking Ye Olde English wherever they walk. Known to wonder, these were-coyotes sniff out mysteries and practice as undercover sleuths part-time in the shadier districts. Or watchful criminals, take your pick.

They work odd jobs and try to stay out of the limelight. Most Humans don’t like them, and they don’t like most two-legged people. Irony abounds.

But they do try to work together, the most thoughtful and loyal race you’ll ever have the pleasure of working with. They do not skimp on deadlines. They do what they need to do, or say otherwise. Were-coyotes are a people of their word.

They are also terribly eloquent and long-winded, so what word they might mean is up to interpretation.

These dogs worship Nighteyes, of course. That is their Pack Leader and the one who keeps them going even if they have an instinctual fear of the dark.

Yeah, they’re pansies.

Spoiler for Neko-Girls/Tiger-Men:


Ah, the feline persona of this Realm, split rather equally across the map. Often called “either side of a coin,” (both a metaphor and a derogatory statement toward their traveling merchant immigrants) the Cat-People are an interesting sort.

They like long walks on the couch, nights snuggled up against the fire, playing with balls of twine and thread, and milk. Lots and lots of milk. They are very much like their feline cousins, the domesticated cat. But there are differences in the two sexes, of which happens with every race, but you could say is more pronounced here.

Neko-Girls are much more violent. Vastly territorial and prone to screeching outbursts and protests, these women do not deal with stress well. Their fight or flight system always jumps to the physical altercations, namely because most are either abused or sheltered from a young age deep on Nublan Islands.

Because of this, they are a valued race when it comes to the slave trade, but do their best to keep independence in small pockets such as Monkey Island and Bulgarium. They have to fight for everything, especially if they aren’t near any Tiger-Men.

Speaking of them, Tiger-Men have a luxury those lithe women do not: They are monstrous in size and stature. When they walk down the street, you move over. Because of this, they have none of the challenges Neko-Girls do, not even when they’re little kittens all elbows and knees hiding out in the jungle.

They do have a sense of wanderlust, though, wishing never to be confined to one space. Naturally, they travel all across the Realm, but are afforded another luxury most other races don’t have: They’re considered exotic. You’d be hard-pressed to find a Tiger-Man in the ghetto, and if you do, he’s there for a reason, not solely to stay.

Both of the Cat-People despise Nighteyes, the Wolf that slayed their Siamese Goddess during Ragnorak or something. Now they worship the God of Ghosts and Parties, Nothing.

Spoiler for Badger-Men:


Do not let their titles fool you; they are not solely a male-dominated species. Perhaps mole dominated, seeing as their favorite sport is “Whack-a-Mole,” but these mountainous residents are what you might call an enlightened folk.

Living in a perpetual Romanticism Era, Badger-Men reside mostly around Mount Badger. Legend has it that the Volcanic Gods (now extinct like the mountain) pulled them from the earth and combined Man and Badger to create something wondrous. Legend will not show up at parties anymore to verify this.

No matter.

These creatures live out their days under the shadow of a ridgeline that at any moment could destroy them. But they don’t care. They live on the edge. They cook on Masterchef, one of the tree stations they get out in the sticks, or chop wood or dance with wolves or whatever hill-billy bumpkins do aside from play the wash bin.

But as I said, theirs is an enlightened folk. Everything is for the community. Medicine men treat all. Food is shared from the elders to the children to the one doing the back-breaking labor. They value life and there is no strife. But if there is, everyone comes together to say their prayers and duke it out with wishbones from fish.

Then the wounds are patched up, and they go back to doing whatever Badger-Men do on a Sunday.

Yes, lots of people wish they were like them.

They worship The High Dragon Sapphira.
“It’s a dangerous thing, pretense. A man ought to know who he is, even if he isn’t proud to be it.” - Tomorrow the Killing, Daniel Polansky