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Author Topic: HairyHeretic's ideas thread  (Read 2240 times)

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Online HairyHereticTopic starter

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HairyHeretic's ideas thread
« on: July 27, 2008, 06:15:08 PM »
Active wants and ideas ... semi-constantly under revision :)

I'm in the mood for a few more games .. possibly one on ones, possibly small games, depend on who finds what appealing.

Distinct story ideas:

In a rough order of interest ...

Fallen Princess, now slave - Fantasy **Available again**

Yesterday ...

Yesterday she was the daughter of a Queen, born of a line of rulers that stretched back 1000 years.

Today ...

Today she is a slave, because no sword arm however strong, no mage however wise, no courtier however shrewd can hold back the armies of the Empire forever.

Golden bands encircle her wrists and throat, marking her former status as she is marched through The City as one more symbol of their triumph.

Tomorrow ...

Tomorrow she will stand naked on the slavers block, gold still encircling her throat, and find out who will be the one to own her henceforth.

And the day after that ...

Well ... that is in the hands of the Gods.

1930s Scion - Pulp / Urban Fantasy **New**
Play me before reading on

"And has his holiness managed to produce anything of worth for us?" The tone was biting, the harsh Prussian accent easily recognisable as an aristocratic one, if one knew how to listen.

"The Fuhrer believes he is useful. Until that changes, we carry on as we have been. If nothing else, his hatred of the Bolsheviks makes him a willing tool. But to answer your question, yes, he has. Watch."

The lights in the room dimmed, then an explosion of light filled the air, streaming upwards and outwards from the centre of the table, forming a world that looked much like out own, but with one significant difference. A massive island, or perhaps a small continent, sitting in the Indian Ocean.

"Mein Gott!"

"Has he found it? Has that lunatic of a Russian actually found the location of Atlantis?"

"No." The tone held profound disappointment. "It may have been there millennia ago, but it's not there now."

Fireflies of light began to appear on the map, dotting around Africa, South East Asia and further afield.

"But while it may be gone, perhaps its outposts, its colonies, remain, lost to time and waiting for us to find them. The Fuhrer has decreed that we will seek these lost places out. We will find them, recover what we can from them, and perhaps they will lead us to Atlantis itself. If nothing else, their technology was supposed to be far in advance of anything seen before, or after. And it will be ours!"

"Signal the Werewolves. We have a go."

The year is 1936. Assisted by the legendary Mad Monk Rasputin, the Thule Society and Ahnenerbe Institute are searching the globe for secrets of lost Atlantis, determined to find it, unlock it's secrets and usher in the Third Reich's thousand year reign.

Opposing them are scattered individuals, drawn together by Fate and secret origins unknown to the rest of the world ...

Scion meets the Pulp Era. The Scions are dashing adventurers, femme fatales, plucky reporters, cocky smugglers, masked avengers and with the aid of intrepid sidekicks, mad science and a talent for trouble, they'll be taking on the nastiest that Nazi occult-science can produce, lost cities, ancient curses, legendary monsters, and perhaps the lost technology of ancient Atlantis itself.


I originally tried this as a group game, but I'd like to give it a shot as a 1 on 1 story. Freeform or System, either works.

Honour among thieves - Fantasy **New**

"Now really, there's no need to be like that. Did I call the Guard on you? No, I did not. And you can have your knife back if you promise not to try putting it in me again. All I was saying is that you breaking in here tonight has complicated things. You can't go round stealing what I'm intending to steal. That's simply poor manners. And frankly, as talented as you seem to be, you're clearly not a professional. Unlike myself. Now, what say we find somewhere a little less public to discuss your activities, before someone else from the Guild less forgiving than I am happens along."

Crimson Sands - Fantasy **New**

You're probably asking yourself right now how I came to end up in a harem on Mars, and a Mars so different to the one we all know exists, right? Well, I've been asking myself variations of that question a dozen times a day since I started this magic carpet ride. And no, that's not a figure of speech either. It started with a damn magic carpet.

Swashbuckling fantasy on a Mars that is just a tad different to the one we've been told exists. Magic and monsters, ancient tech and prophecy. Wait, just what exactly do you mean by 'The Chosen One'?

Lord of the Gloaming Woods - Fantasy **Game in progress**

"Keep to the path, and they can't harm you. That's the Pact that was made.
Anything on the path is safe, anything off it is fair game for them.
They'll try to trick you, or scare you, and once you put one foot off the path, then it's theirs you are.
And they don't give up what is theirs by right."


Tales to scare travellers.

No one had seen anything in the forest in, well, generations. The guides kept to their old ways, since that was what they had always done, but few believed them any more.

For one party, they're about to get a rather pointed reminder that all stories grow from a seed of truth .. particularly when he who made the Pact stirs in the depths of the forest once more, and sends forth his servants to fetch what is his by right.

That was Zen, this is Tao - Urban Fantasy

The first time I laid eyes on her I thought she was out of this world. If only I'd knew just how true that was.

Most people don't have to deal with millenia old curses, evil wizards, stolen magic items, ghosts, demons, monsters and supernatural partners. Aren't I the lucky one?

Of course, if I hadn't been hired to steal it, I wouldn't have ended up on this whole magic carpet ride, and wouldn't have met the granddaughter of the Dragon King of the Eastern Sea either.

So .. it's not all bad. If you discount the moments of mind numbing terror and all, that is.

Peace is a lie - Star Wars
Star Wars:
Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
Through passion, I gain strength.
Through strength, I gain power.
Through power, I gain victory.
Through victory, my chains are broken.
The Force shall free me.

If you know it, the SW:TOR storyline of the Sith Warrior has a lot of potential for a good game here.
SWTOR Sith Warrior Storyline Spoilers
Starting with receiving your slave Vette the Twi'lek, and your later corruption of the Jedi Padawan Jaesa.

Could work nicely with 1 or 2 other players.

Adopting a stray - Modern / Urban fantasy
Somewhat nebulous at present
Guy crosses path with homeless girl from the streets, cold, hungry, tired, perhaps in trouble with the law or running from someone / something
He takes her as his pet. Gives her a home, food, shelter in return for placing a collar around her neck.
Girl could be human or demihuman, depending if it plays out as modern or urban fantasy
Lots of possible permutations.

What? You never seen a demon before? - Urban Fantasy

A millenia ago a powerful demon was defeated by a mighty demon slayer. Though unable to kill it, the demon slayer pinned it to rock with an enchanted spear, where it has remained trapped until the present day. Someone (perhaps a descendent of the demon slayer?) stumbles across the imprisoned demon, and inadvertently manages to release (or summon) some others. The only weapon that would allow them to fight these demons is the enchanted spear ... which means having to release the demon impaled on it. The demon is willing to swear an oath of fealty in return, so it ought to be safe .. right?

This is inspired by the manga Ushio and Tora, yes :)

More open stuff:

A personal favourite of mine. Almost always interested in this one.

I'm generally up for a game of Exalted, single or group, freeform or system.

I generally play Solars, occasionally Lunars. Haven't tried others much, but I'm open to most types.

Black Crusade:
I swear, 40k games seem to be under a curse here, but I still want to try. I could go for Dark Heresy, or Rogue Trader, but a chance to play a CSM in Black Crusade is really what I want.
Ave Dominus Nox

Legend of the Five Rings:
Another setting I'm very partial to. I favor playing Scorpion clan Samurai.


I have a few characters I've used and re-used across different games. These are normally available for other stories.

Exalted Characters - Magitech Fantasy

Kheldaran - Eclipse Caste Solar
Peleps Daishan was born and raised a son of the Household of Peleps Kaizoku, and like many of this household, he spent a lot of time learning about, on or near the sea. With his family's status of unofficial Realm pirates, that's to be expected. He doesn't have a great many memories of this time though

Peleps Daishan died at sea. A great storm arose, his ship was separated from the rest of the squadron, damage taken in a battle with Lintha pirates having slowed it to the point it could not outrun the storm. Damaged, and short of crew, the ship was buffeted and battered. Sailors were plucked one by one from the deck by waves that seemed almost sentient.

They were. The storm was not a normal storm, but a hunting party of the Fair Folk, far from their normal waters. Peleps Daishan was one of the last taken. Perhaps that was why he survived, the Fair Folk having sated the worst of their lusts on those already lost. He was not as fortunate, to be killed out of hand. Instead he was taken.

He who was Daishan was now a slave, to be used by the Fair Folk in any way that amused them. They took him to deep, dark, places and changed him there, so he would last longer, amuse them for longer.

He can't recall how long he was amongst them. Months. Perhaps years.

His escape was a shock to many. The hunting party had encountered a group of water spirits and were seeking uncontested passage through their realm. Their slave suddenly addressed one spirit, calling on ancient pacts in the name of who he was before. The spirit saw the reincarnation of one he owed a debt to, and fulfilled his oath. The hunting party were slaughtered, the few survivors fleeing before the spirits.

The once more Exalted Eclipse solemnly thanked his old friend, and acknowledged the debt paid. As a last boon, the spirit took him safely back to the shore, leaving him on a beach with Port Calin a distant blur on the horizon.

Unused to being above water, he was weak and uncoordinated. He was found by a Guild caravan, and having nothing of worth to pay for any help they might give him, they promptly enslaved him once again, shackling him and tossing him in a wagon with others who were to be sold in Nexus. Once he recovered his strength, he taught them the error of their ways. Recovered and now equiped with clothing and equipment that had been Guild property, he set out to explore.

Over time, some memories came back to him, enough to know that his former family would likely want to see him dead. Not only had he not fallen gloriously in battle, he had been taken as a slave, something that would mar the entire family with dishonour, and then worst of all, had exalted as Anathema.

Peleps Daishan died at sea. The man who stood on that muddy trail took the name Kheldaran. It would serve well enough for now, and could always be discarded later, if necessary.

His wandering around the Scavenger Lands found him creating a number of identities, and finding several useful tools along the way. A poorly thought out excursion to the haunted city of Denandsor almost cost him his life, but he escaped it bringing the Nymph Calinara with him, having rescued her from the empty city and its curse. She decided to stay with him, as he usually ended up in such interesting situations, mostly unmanifested and inside of him, but taking her true form around expanses of water that she judged worthy.

Ulric - Full Moon Caste Lunar
"You want to know my story? Alright, I'll indulge you, this time. I'm from the north ... a small village, near Whitewall. You'd never have heard of it. We provided food, and some workers, for the mines. Close to the Fell." He paused, eyes unfocused, before continuing. "Marama's Fell. It's a Shadowland. Didn't know a lot about it back then, but I've learned a lot more since. Back when I was a boy, if you were lucky, and good, you could get it, look around some of the old ruins they had in there, maybe find something you could sell in the city. Lots of nasty things in there for the unlucky, or the unwary, and that's before night even falls."

"I was .. thirteen, forteen maybe. Full of my own confidence." He broke off with a chuckle. "In other words a fool. I'd been into the Fell before, never found much though. I heard stories of a new find though, deeper in than we'd ever gone, full of all sorts of things. I figured I could be in, take what I wanted and be back out before anyone was the wiser. I was wrong. I spent the next day ... and night ... running, hiding, fighting when I'd no choice. The following dawn I was backed up against one of those old ruins, a pack of hungry ghosts closing in on me, and armed with a pair of silver tonfa ... what I thought were tonfa ... and resolved to try and sell myself dear."

"Next thing I know, there's a full moon overhead, I'm hearing a voice I'd never heard before telling me all kinds of things, and then I change. I don't know who was more surprised .. me or the ghosts. Well, I tore through half of them, sent the rest scattering, and made my way back out of the Fell. Didn't realise how I looked til I scared some poor traveller half to death. He ran off one way screaming about a giant monster, and I decided I'd best go another."

"I got found a month or two later, brought to the Pack, and taught how things really were."

Wei Xiaobao - Night Caste Solar

Wei himself, dressed up and pretending to be a dynast.
Concept: Gentleman Thief (Gambler, con man, etc)
Brief Background: Wei Xiaobao grew up aboard the Saikal's Maw, the ship of the infamous Pirate Queen Crimson Smile. The only male amongst a ship of women pirates, his upbringing was unusual to say the least. As he grew older, he caught strange glances and heard almost whispers of conversations about his birth, though none would ever speak directly of it.

At the age of ten, his mother took him ashore in Wu Jian, the first time he had ever been off a boat, and abandoned him there. Her only words to him were "I've fulfilled my oath, and the debt is paid. You tell him that, hear me?", and then left without a backward glance.

Wei fell in with a gang of street children, leaning the tricks of their trade, though it was in gambling he found his true calling. Over time he learned the ways of the rich and powerful ... after all, they had more to gamble with, and more to lose.

Wei drew his Second Breath at the end of a high stakes gambling bout, the final players being a Fire aspected Outcaste crimelord of Wu Jian, Wei himself and (so he claims) Plentimon, the God of Gamblers. Stories are still told of the night that mountains of jade were won and lost on the roll of a dice and toss of a card, the power of Emerald Eye Han and the Five-fold Lotus Brotherhood shattered, his closest lieutenants slaughtered and his fortress casino burned to the ground.

Wei's Followers

Left to right, the original members of the gang who stayed with him in Wu Jian after he drew his Second Breath, and managed to survive all that the world could throw at them as they fled the West. Kedo, originally the muscle of the group, and an accomplished wrestler. Tyrara, specialist in second story work and almost as good with a knife as Wei himself was. Orrun, an alchemical dabbler, but one who could come up with interesting smoke bombs, sleeping draughts and other concoctions.

Ten Thousand Opal Sunrises, though she generally goes by Opal. A former dynast house slave, Wei accidentally won her in a game of cards. She proved a font of useful information on the minds and mannerisms of the dynasts, and is the closest thing the group has to a sage.

Azula joined the group after a slight misunderstanding just outside of Thorns. It's a long story, don't ask. She's the outdoors type, and proved her worth whenever the group had to go cross country for any length of time. Wei is fairly sure she's not entirely human. Maybe fae-blooded, or someone in her recent ancestry got a touch of the Wyld in them.

Kafani joined the group in Champoor. Wei stole her from a Guild slave caravan as he felt it would be useful to have someone around who knew something of the region, and could help the others learn how to blend in. Daughter of a merchant who fell on hard times, she's still trying to figure out her role in this odd new environment.

Isbjorn - Zenith Caste Solar

Isbjorn was born into the Ice Weasel sept of the Mammoth tribe, growing to young manhood amongst one of the harshest enviorments in Creation. As he grew, he drew the attention of one of the tribe's shamans, Hraefn, when he demonstrated that he had the gift of the soul flame, the ability to light and keep a fire going on under any conditions. Over time, he was taught how to read the runes the tribe used to seek knowledge of the future, and how to drive away the unwanted spirits. When his training was far enough advanced, Hraefn presented him to the tribes totem, to seek approval for Isbjorn to become his successor.

He was rejected, the totem instead calling forth another youth, Eirikki. Reluctantly Hraefn bid his former pupil well, and took Eirikki in his place. Isbjorn took this change stoicly, knowing that the choice was for the good of the tribe, and returned to the ranks of the tribes hunters. With his gifts, he was often found in the hunting parties that roamed out from the migrating tribe, and who would seek to destroy any debased outsiders they came across. Within a few years he bore a number of tattoos honouring the victories he had shared in.

Sometimes though, the hunters are themselves hunted.

In his twentieth year, Isbjorn had been part of a far ranging hunting party. They had come across strange tracks in the snow, that did not quite match anything that they were familiar with. A short discussion reckoned it likely some beast of the Fair Folk, ranged far from their normal hunting grounds, and they set off to track and destroy it. The tracks led into a nearby range of hills, where they discovered just where the tracks had come from.

The first they knew of their danger was an avalanche that swept down from an overhanging cliff, burying several members of the party, and spliting the rest in two. From the cliff above dropped the corpse pale figures of a group of hushed ones, the screams of the unfortunate tribesmen who could not escape them rising into the air. Isbjorn and those with him knew there was nothing could be done to aid their kin, the rock and snow sealing the others off, and that as soon as the Hushed Ones had dealt with one group, they would be after them in turn.

The hunters fled through a maze of icy passages, more of their number falling to the traps the Hushed Ones had laid. Resolving to sell themselves dearly, the remaining hunters looked for somewhere they might make a stand. The least poor option was a icy tunnel that led into the hills. Following it back, they found themselves in a frozen cave, heavily encrusted with centuries of ice. The walls sent glittering shards of their torchlight back at them, hinting at something beneath the ice, but refusing to share secrets long emtombed.

The half dozen remaining hunters set themselves, and waited. The first rush of the Hushed Ones ran into something they hadn't counted on, the hunters laying a slick of oil on the floor around the mound of ice that dominated the center of the cave. While the momentary slickness didn't hinder them too greatly, the flames that Isbjorn called were a different matter. True to their name, the Hushed Ones blazed like silent torches til them fell still and silent on the floor of the cave, pale flesh charred black.

It was a trick that would only work once, and the rest waited til they had overwhelming force, then flooded into the cave, determined to overwhelm the hunters. Knowing the stories, that those taken alive would suffer a fate worse than death, the hunters fought with ferocity, determined to force the Hushed Ones to kill them. In the fight, Isbjorn was sent crashing into the central mound by one of the Hushed Ones diving on his. Dazed, the ice shattering under the impact, he felt cold hands around his throat. His strenght was leeched away, and his arms fell to the ground. He thought he felt something wrap around his forearms, and fresh strength blazed through him.

A single golden punch sent the Hushed One flying off him, crashing into the wall perhaps 15 feet from the ground, and Isbjorn rose, light flaring from him, and from the massive bear that blazed behind, above, around him. For a frozen moment every eye was focused on him, and he leaped forwards. Every punch blasted a Hushed One from it's feet, sending them crashing into walls, the ceiling and each other. Those that did not run were struck down, those that did were pursued by a burning juggernaught, implacable and unstopable, and the entire nest was destroyed.

When Isbjorn regained his senses, he was far from the scene of the carnage. While his folk did not share the Immaculate faith, and their feelings about 'anathema', he felt that his place was no longer amongst the tribes. He could almost recall memories of a conversation, as if from a dream, and knew that he had to head Southwards.

His journey took him many places. He saved a village from bandits near Marama's Fell, uniting both villagers and bandits against the unquiet dead. Three days journey North from Whitewall, he saved a young woman, Silk, from a travesty of a trial, ending up with a sworn companion as a result. Crossing paths several times with the Guild in and around Gethamane, the two ended up leaving more swiftly than they had arrived. Rumours of assassins, bounty hunters and a price on their heads are likely somewhat exaggerated. Probably.

For the last month and more the two have been moving more steadily Northwards, Isbjorn being drawn by dreams he cannot fully remember. Passing through Icehome the two, in conjunction with a young Changing Moon Lunar called Kisa, accidentally disrupted a scheme of House Cynis that would have seen a heavy increase in the trade of certain forbidden drugs, and possibly a shift in the political landscape that might have destablised the entire region.

A few days out from Crystal, Silk 'adopted' a small white ferret, waking up on morning to find it had crawled into her blankets at some point the previous night. Much to Isbjorn's surprise, it seems quite taken with her, and her with it. He hasn't told her yet that it's an ice ferret kitten, rather than a fully grown animal, and when mature it will probably be near twice as big as she is. Since he was unable to find any sign of it's family, and leaving it out on the ice might well be a death sentence for the animal, he's raised no objections to her actions.

Scion characters

Luke Xiang, Scion of Sun Wukong
Luke Xiang is a young Chinese man in his mid 20s. He is one of the stars of a Taiwanese modern day wu xia tv show (think the Feng Shui rpg as a tv show) which has wrapped up its first season and is waiting to see if they're to get a second or not.

Luke, naturally enough, never knew his father, and he and his mother lived with her married sister. Luke's uncle was a merchant banker, and tried to raise his nephew to have a similar outlook, serious and hard working.

It never quite took.

While not exactly wild, Luke could best be described as strong willed. One of the stronger influences in the youths life was an old monk called Wu, who would tell the boy many entertaining stories, claiming to have been a fang shi (exorcist), and having fought ghosts and jiang shi (hopping vampires) all over China. He taught Luke the basics of both kung fu and the fangshi's arts.

Impressed with raw talent the boy seemed to have in the martial arts, Luke was enrolled in one of the better local dojos. He enjoyed the lessons, and his uncle felt that the discipline aspect would serve well.

A university film project made by friends of his was his introduction to the world of media, and he was spotted and talented scouted to audition for the tv show The Invisible War.

Luke met his father when the latter crashed the end of season cast party, reduced the 'suits' to incoherent apoplexy, and dragged a dozen of the cast out on the town.

Luke can't quite recall all the details of that night, but he now has a couple of gifts from his father, and the knowledge that the world is a lot more interesting than he previously knew.

Now he gets to go out and do for real things that couldn't even be bluescreened on his show, and he's having a blast with it.

Name      : Luke Xiang
Hometown  : Tainan, Taiwan
Pantheon  : Celestial Bureaucracy
Deity     : Sun Wukong
Calling   : Wu xia tv star
Nature    : Gallant

Height: 5'8
Build: Athletic
Age: 25
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Black, shoulder length
General appearance: Smart casual; slacks, shirts and jackets, cut to allow ease of movement, yet retain a stylish appearance.

Juan Sánchez Villa-Lobos Ramírez, scion of Manannan Mac Lir
Name: Juan Sánchez Villa-Lobos Ramírez
Calling: Grey Caballero
Nature: Bravo
Gender: Male
Sexual orientation: Heterosexual
Pantheon:  Tuatha de Dannan
God: Manannan Mac Lir
Nationality: Brazilian
Occupation: Treasure Hunter (amongst other things)
Age: 28
Date of birth: March 1st, 1988

Motivation: Oppose the Eternal Reich organisation
Deific goal: Hasn't thought that far ahead

Height: 5'11
Weight: Average
Hair colour: Black
Eye colour: Hazel
Distinguishing features: Two bullet wound scars on his chest
Appearance: See pic
Face claim: Antonio Banderas

Personality: Ramirez considers himself a Caballero of the old school, trying his best to be polite and charming (particularly towards the ladies), and one who enjoys the finer things in life (when available). Other's might less charitably describe him as cocky, lecherous and sharp tongued, but as a gentleman he could not possibly comment on the doubtless jealousy inspired rantings of less cultured individuals. He is loyal to his friends, generous when he can be, and tries his best to avoid trouble .. not that it generally gives him much choice in the matter.

Family: Mother - Maria (59), Older brother - Gabriel (37, runs the family business), Older sister - Jessica (31, works in Marketing for Google), Step Father - Raphael Ortega (60)
Friends and allies: Assorted contacts scattered over South East Asia, in the grey markets. Most of his close friends and allies (his crew) were lost when he was almost killed, and he hasn't been able to find out the fates of the rest.
Rivals and enemies: Skorzeny (first name unknown) - Neo Nazi, possible 'werewolf', and cause of the bullet scars in Ramirez chest.
Background: Ramírez was born into a wealthy cattle ranching family in Brazil. Growing up he was told his father had been a sailor, a captain whose ship was lost years before in the Devil's Triangle, though little was said and the topic quickly changed. As he grew older he caught snippits of conversations indicating his father had simply been a sailor that had seduced his mother and left, though such was never said to his face.

It seemed that the sea might claim him too, as he seemed always to feel it's pull, and at 17 he ran away from home, joining a merchant ship crew, determined to find his father, or what had happened to him.

Ten years later, he had sailed around a fair portion of the world, though most of the time was spent between the Bay of Bengal and the Sea of Japan. He had ended up involved in the grey markets, smuggling goods, information and occasionally people around South East Asia, with connections in what seemed like every port. He ran a few jobs for a Swiss businessman in Singapore, a collector of antiquities with an eye for strange, old bits and pieces.

Visitation:Ramírez never knew quite what it was that he delivered that last time. Some odd statuette, whatever it was it seemed to produce unearthly excitement from his buyer. Unfortunately it also produced automatic pistols from the businessman's bodyguards, and his crew being systematically cut down. Ramírez himself went overboard from his vessel, two bullets in his chest, the last word he heard werewolf.

Death did not claim him, as he sank into the dark water. Instead something seemed to explode within his head, a voice, or the memory of a voice, telling him that he was a son of the oceans, and the water would always be his. His head cleared and he found he could breathe as easily under the water as above it, and swim as fast as he could run. He made his way back to shore on Sentosa Island, a tall, bearded man stepping out the trees and introducing himself as his father.

The two spoke long into the night, and as the dawn sun rose, Ramírez found himself in a much stranger world than he had the day before. It wasn't easy to find out you were the son of an Irish sea-God, after all. Still, with his newfound knowledge and powers, he was in a much better position to take on these 'werewolves'. They started this ... he'd finish it.

His father told him that he had other duties to attend to first though, and the following dawn saw him in San Francisco.

Likes: A challenge (particularly when it comes to women), the finer things when it comes to food, drink, clothing etc, soaking in the bath
Dislikes: Ill mannered behaviour, bigots, stupidity.
Hobbies: Music, reading, dancing, flirting, martial arts
Fears and phobias: Slight claustrophobia, worse underground, stemming from an incident as a child when he got lost in a cave complex.

His Hero's Geas has already been Fated, to protect the Chinatown in San Francisco.

How did the son of an Irish Sea God end up with such a strange Geas? Ah, that is a long story, my friend. Come, pull up a chair and let me tell you.

"I say ... have you seen my dragon?"

As conversation starters went, that was a new line on Ramirez, even in the now much stranger world he found himself in. He paused with his coffee cup raised to his mouth, and turned his attention to the source of the somewhat outlandish remark.

The man who stood before him was old, perhaps in his 70s or even 80s, with skin that showed a lot of exposure to the elements. His beard and what remained of his hair was grey and scraggly, and neither appeared to have more than a casual relationship with a comb in some time. The bright red smoking jacket he wore had also seen better days.

"Yes, I ... I seem to have misplaced her." the old man continued, smiling warmly at him. "She shouldn't go wandering off on her own you know, she's quite small." He held up his hand, thumb and forefinger perhaps an inch apart. "Except when she isn't of course." He blinked a few times, looking around the coffee house and shouted out. "LUNG QIUYUE! If you don't get back here this instant I shall be most perturbed." His outburst drew puzzled looks from most of those sitting around, and an irritated one from the owner.

Perhaps if I ignore him he'll go away and find someone else. Ramirez thought, a hope that was quickly dashed as the old man sat down opposite and began to help himself to Ramirez's breakfast.

"You can help me find her." he muttered around a mouthful of warm, buttery toast. "You're more real. Not like those others. Yes, you're real and all tangled up in string and her string and your string and this toast."

Ramirez's brow furrowed as crumbs of toast sprayed over his shirt, and suppressed a sigh. He fished a few small denomination notes out of his pocket and set them onto the saucer his coffee had rested on. Noting the dirty look the owner was giving, he added a couple more to be on the safe side and then rose. "Come along, Grandfather." he said, resignedly. "Let's go see if we can't find your dragon."

The old man led Ramirez through the streets, backstreets and alleys, without apparent direction. Ramirez was fairly certain they'd crossed their own path at least three times, though the buildings didn't look quite similar enough that he could be sure. The old man seemed to fall into the role of tour guide, pointing out places and naming names that probably would have meant something to someone with a familiarity of the city .. or might just be pulled straight from the depths of his imagination. After about ten minutes and several false starts. Ramirez actually got a question of his own through in return.

"So, who are you anyway? You have a name?"

The old man paused, a puzzled expression on his face, before breaking into a smile. "Oh, of course, you're a foreigner aren't you? Well, naturally you wouldn't know who I am. I'm the Emperor. Of the United States." he added helpfully, seeing the look that passed across Ramirez own face.

"Forgive me for asking, but I was under the impression that the United States had a President, not an Emperor." replied Ramirez, cocking his head slightly to the side.

"Oh, we do, we do." the old man replied. "I leave him to take care of all the day to day stuff while I look after what is really important. An Emperor has a duty to his subjects after all."

"Naturally." replied Ramirez, shaking his head slightly as the old man's gaze wandered off.

"Ah, here we are." he said, reaching down and lifting a rusty metal hatch. Without waiting, he descended the circular iron stairwell below, an echoing "Come along, come along."

Ramirez paused at the entrance to the cellar, or whatever it might be, for a few long moments, before giving his head a shake and following the old man down. He'd probably do himself a mischief down there, and he'd need someone to get him back out.

By the time Ramirez's eyes had adjust to the dim lighting, the old man was on the ground, in a room that looked like it had been abandoned since the 50's .. possibly the 1850s. The Emperor led the way across the room, pausing to exchange his red jacket for an equally threadbare blue one, topping the entire ensemble off with what looked like a slightly fuzzy top hat with a massive feather sticking out of it.

He settled onto a slightly unstable looking barbers chair against one wall, and beckoned Ramirez forwards. "You remind me of Pedro." he announced. "It's the accent I think. Or possibly the toast. Yes, definitely the toast. Most kind of you to entertain me thusly, so few remember their duty. You're different though. You know duty. A duty. The duty." His eyes unfocused for a moment before snapping back to Ramirez as he approached. "Yes, you know the duty, don't you?"

"I know what my duty is." Ramirez replied, thinking to a dark night lit by muzzle flashes and screams.

"Your duty? Excellent." the old man announced, drawing Ramirez attention back to him as he fumbled beneath his jacket, drawing out something on a leather thong that glinted as it spun. "It is right that those who offer to us unbroken fidelity should be protected by our aid. And since such and such a faithful one of ours, coming here in our palace with his arms, has seen fit to swear trust and fidelity to us in our hand, therefore we decree and command by the present precept that for the future such and such above mentioned be counted with the number of antrustions." He stepped forwards and draped the somewhat grimy leather thong over Ramirez's head, what looked like an old Chinese coin made from red jade hanging against his chest. "The duty is now yours."

"Hold on." said Ramirez, lifting the coin and looking at the strange characters embossed on it. "What duty are you talking about?"

"The duty of every Emperor is to protect his subjects." the old man replied, smiling. "Look at the toast. No, strings, yes, strings. The fief has accepted you." His head turned towards the still open hatch, and he fell backwards like a puppet with the strings cut.

"Wait, what, no?" Ramirez snapped, dropping to try and catch the old man before he hit the ground. His fingers moved to the old man's throat, looking for a pulse. "Shit!" he exclaimed, setting the old man down, and starting what he remembered of CPR. After a couple of minutes he stopped, closing the old man's eyes.

"I pray that you will have the blessing of being consoled. May you know in your soul that there is no need to be afraid. May you be given every blessing and shelter that you need. May there be a beautiful welcome for you in the home that you are going to. You are not going somewhere strange. You are going back to the home that you never left. May you be peaceful and happy and in the presence of those who really care for you. May your going be sheltered and your welcome assured. May your soul smile in the embrace of your anam cara." he murmured, straightening up and lifting the necklace off to look at it.

He looked down at the body beside him and shook his head. "This has been a very strange day." he murmured.


His head spun round towards the source of the shout. Halfway down the stairs was one of the most beautiful Chinese women he had ever set eyes on. Her eyes moved from the body to the necklace he held and her face contorted in rage. She hurtled off the stairwell and came straight at Ramirez, fist drawn back. "Wait, it's not like that." he said, holding up his hands to ward her off. Those were the only words he managed, the next two or three hours, or possibly just minutes, spent dodging, ducking and weaving, trying to avoid a variety of punches and kicks that seemed intent on removing assorted parts of his body.

The woman spun away at the last, breathing hard, and glaring daggers at him. She had positioned herself between him and exit, intent on keeping him from leaving, despite his attempts to calm her down.

Ramirez was breathing just as heavily, and he shook his head at the strange woman. "Look, if you'd stop trying to kill me for just one minute, I can explain."

She glared at him again, drawing in a deep breath, and opened her mouth. Instead of the expected scream, what came out of her mouth was water, hitting Ramirez like a high pressure hose and knocking him back against the far wall. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me." he gasped as the room rapidly filled with water.

It appeared the woman expected this to give her an advantage, as she came towards him through the water like an angry torpedo. The expression on her face when Ramirez continued to dodge, apparently as unencumbered by the change in terrain as she was made him grin, which seemed to infuriate her all the more.

Just as suddenly as she started, she stopped, the water draining away as she fixed her gaze on apparently empty space near the now overturned barbers chair. Ramirez was familiar with most of the languages of South East Asia, but whatever dialect of Chinese she was speaking, it wasn't one he knew. Elements of it seemed almost familiar, as if he had known them once, but lost them through disuse. Her tone, angry glares and gestures in his direction indicated she wasn't exactly happy with the situation, as far as a one sided conversation with empty air could be interpreted.

Ramirez remained where he was, ready to start dodging again if this was some bizarre trick. After another minute or two she turned towards him, straightening an incredulous expression.

"It seems that .. I may .. owe you an apology." she said haltingly. "I have been informed that you .." and that single word contained such depth of disdain that Ramirez almost stepped back from her "Have accepted the duty to protect this fang alongside me, as one far more worthy than you has now passed on."

Ramirez opened his mouth to dispute this, to explain that it was all some kind of mistake, but it seemed the words would not come. Instead he felt himself nodding, and an echo of his fathers voice coming from his mouth. "Aye. As it was, so it is, and shall be."

Right then he couldn't tell who was the more confused, but he felt the oath settle into his bones, and something inside of him sang.

Urban Fantasy characters

Jason Cole - Werewolf
Age: 33
Gender: Male
Orientation: Hetero
Identity/position: Alpha werewolf, Vargamor (Anitaverse setting)

Eyes: Greenish grey
Hair: Dark brown
Height: 5'10

Tends to favour simple, casual clothing, normally in dark shades. He finds the trends of fashion amusing, and has no part of them. Build is average.

Likes: D/s, shibari, cult level bad movies, martial arts, reading, gaming, classic rock, simple elegance.
Dislikes: Smoking, bigotry of any form, bullies, losing control, overly formal clothing.
absolutely not's: Per O&O
Talents: Shaman, Call the Munin, Healing, small runic magics, lapsed martial arts training
Character Traits: Easy going, calm, protective of those close to him, stubborn.
Personality: Jason tends to be relatively quiet until he feels comfortable in a situation or with a person. If he gets angry, it tends towards the cold anger, rather than hot. He is not one for unnecessary violence, considering it a last resort when things cannot be resolved any other way. At the same time, his protectiveness means that he is willing to fight when he considers it necessary.

The History

Jason became a werewolf some 4 years ago, in a rather unusual way. While performing an outsitting, and journeying amongst the Nine Worlds, he encountered a wolf spirit. It accompanied him on his journey, and when he returned to his flesh, as far as he can tell, it came too. At first unwilling to accept what had happened, his broken arm healing in two weeks made him seek out the local supernatural community, where the local Eranthe, Savannah, (the first he was able to contact) confirmed his suspicions ... he had indeed become a werewolf.

The local pack, unbeknownst to him, had gone through a recent upheaval, the Ulfric and most of the alphas having been killed by newcomers. The new Ulfric was supposed to be under the control of the Russian mob that had brought him over, and helped him to take over the pack. They were (fatally) surprised when they found out that he had plans of his own.

When things settled down, over time, Jason found himself with the role of Vargamor of the pack, his magical talents making him an obvious choice. He also settled into a semi-relationship with the Eranthe, understanding and accepting of her duty to the pack, and finding several of the betas taken under his wing before he realised what that responsibility meant. His own nature meant that he would not abandon them though, once it was explained to him.

When Savannah died some 6 months ago as a result of Humans First attack, Jason found himself uncomfortable in the pack. There were too many reminders keeping the pain close and raw, even though she was still with him through the munin. Eventually he decided he needed to move on from there, and seek pastures new.

Sam Doyle - Medium / Necromancer
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Orientation: Straight
Classification/position: Gifted (Cursed?) human - natural Medium / Necromancer

Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Sandy brown
Height: 5'8
Appearance: Scruffy and unkempt, slightly under average weight

Character Talents: I see dead people (able to see and speak with the dead), sleight of hand, breaking and entering. Decent with a knife.
Character Flaws: Very distrustful of authority, mild drug addictions (alcohol, downers)
Character Abilities: See ghosts, speak with ghosts. Recently manifested ability to raise zombies, power instinctive, not reliably controllable yet.
Personality:Sam tends to come across as cold, distrustful, frequently half distracted, and seems to expect the worst in any situation.

---Transcript begins---

"I see dead people."

"Yeah, real fucking funny, ha ha. You think I asked for this? You think I want this? Being tossed from house to house, foster family to social services and round and round and round we fucking go."

"Fine, whatever. You don't believe me, oh wait, you're paid to make sheep noises and tell me it's all ok, and you've got drugs to help, right? The drugs, they don't help. They don't do shit, unless I'm so doped up I'm a zombie myself. Or do you have to call them the vitally challenged these days or something? Fucking PC crap."

"Every kid growin up has imaginary friends, don't they? That's what my parents thought. At least, I think that's what they thought. I don't remember much of them. They died when I was young. No, I don't see them. How the fuck should I know why I can see some and not others? The ones that are still here, they're here because they're not ready to go on yet. Or maybe they're afraid to. Ask them yourself. Oh wait, you can't. Fuck that then."

"I got lumbered with my grandmother after my parents died. Another sheeple, bleating about her church and her god, and 'beating the devil out of me' every chance she got. She must have thrown a lake worth of holy water over me, and it didn't make a bit of difference. Things still got moved around. Noises. Murmured voices. Stupid woman. If she hadn't ... stupid ... ah, you don't believe me anyway. Coroners report said it was a heart attack, but it wasn't, was it? She lifted that rolling pin one time too fucking many, and they came for her. Stuck an arm right inside her chest and squeezed, and over she went. Stupid fuck."

"So yeah, off to foster care with me. Families that couldn't hack the weird shit, got creeped out by me just being there. Of course, it's never just me, is it. Heh, if you could see what I see in your office right now, you'd shit bricks. Anywhere I go, they come. The lost ones. The ones that want to be heard. The angry ones. That a little twitch there doc? Got a guilty conscience, have we? They don't give a shit about you. It's me they want. It's always me they want. They tell me things. All the things they could never say alive. Sometimes they tell me things when I ask. If I squeeze them, they have to answer. They can't lie to me. Around me, they're stronger. All that fear, all that anger."

"Ha ha ha. The look on your face. Sure, just coincidence the string on your diploma breaking, wasn't it? Wasn't it doc? Wasn't it. Heh. Fuck you and all. You can't do shit for me, and neither can anyone else. I'm an adult now, aren't I? That means I can get the hell out of here."

"NO! No fucking way. No way, no how. You're not sending me ANYWHERE, least of all for 'evaluation'. You think I'm an idiot? You want to lock me up, drug me up, and leave me to rot. NO! Fuck you, you ..."

---Transcript ends---

Sam lost his parents at age 4, living with his maternal grandmother until her death when he was 8. With no other living relatives he was made a ward of the state, and placed in foster care. Several families tried to give him a home, but due these were not successful, leading him to spend the remainder of his childhood in residual treatment centers. At age 18 he dropped out of the foster program, and began living independently.

Between his somewhat abrasive personality and the frequency of unusual events wherever he was, long term jobs and relationships were an impossibility. Sam turned to petty crime to supplement what odd work he could find, living either in squats, crashing with people he knew, or sleeping rough.

He has a criminal record, mostly for drunk and disorderly behaviour shortly after coming out of foster care.

Other comments:

I have a great fondness for D/s stories across any number of genres, settings and pairings (modern / fantasy / sci fi / urban fantasy)

While I enjoy playing in a variety of canon settings, I don't play canon characters.

If nothing there interests you, but you like my writing, feel free to pitch your idea and it may appeal to me as well.

« Last Edit: May 21, 2018, 05:44:08 PM by HairyHeretic »

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Re: [MUL / UN] A variety of ideas
« Reply #1 on: August 06, 2008, 06:40:31 PM »
Presently Inactive ideas

Or else already running / ran

But hey, if you like it, maybe you can convince me to blow the dust off of one.

Bjarni wondered if the pain from the wound in his leg that the boar had inflicted had caused him to imagine the Kings words. Or perhaps he had simply misunderstood them. His grasp of D'Angeline was better than most of his kin, but still not perfect. The looks of shock on the faces of the other feast guests, and the heads that turned to both him and the petite Princess seated at the royal table made him realise that he had not misheard after all.

The King had just announced she was now his betrothed, given as the hinted at prize of the hunt. His head turned towards her, and even at this distance, she seemed as surprised as he was.

This was a plot development in another game I was playing that ended soon after. I'd like to give it a whirl and see how the story might play out.

Beneath the Eagle's Wings

My name is Lucius Aquilinus Aurelius. I have the honour to serve as Centurion in the Aquilo Legion, commanding a mixed century of Salararius drop infantry and machinamenti pedestris war machines. The year is 2500 ab urbe condita, From the Founding, the founding of Rome, the eternal city. My Legion has been in the vanguard of the conquest of the barbarians across the Western Ocean in Nova Hesperia, or Vinland as they named it. They fight well, but their individual prowess cannot long match the discipline of the Legions. Already the first territories taken see the benefits of our rule, and what the Pax can bring them. In time they all will.

Of course, there is unrest in every Empire. Bandits. Agitators. Those who think themselves more suited to rule than the rightful rulers, or those who think they can declare themselves no longer part of the Empire. A foolish thought, and one that is inevitably proven wrong. Those not killed will frequently find themselves sold into slavery.

I suppose that is where our story begins, does it not ....

An alternate history of the world, one in which the Roman Empire never fell, and now spans much of Europe, Africa, and now is making inroads on the North American continent. A military officer, returned to his home in Rome on leave purchases a new slave.

After that ... who knows ... the story could develop in any number of directions. General level of technology is about late 1800s ish, though with a magitech/steampunk feel.


    Even a man who is pure in heart
    and says his prayers by night
    may become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms
    and the autumn moon is bright.

To see

Spotted in a club.

To see. To want.

Separated from who she is with.

Edged out into the night, into the storm, in a city she does not know, a country that is not her own.

To see. To want. To take.

Chased through a darkened maze of streets, til finally, exhausted, battered, she can go no further.

And then ...


Mine now.

Man or monster? Is there a difference between the two?

Stranger in a strange land - Urban Fantasy

There is another world that exists just beyond the corner of your eye, inhabited by fables, stories and things that everyone knows aren't real.

Except they are.

For the main the two worlds are kept separate, but what happens when a noble inhabitent of of that other world finds herself forced into the mundane one, and into one particular mortal's life?

Hunter Hunted - Fantasy

"MINE! She's mine. Send word to seal the valley, no one gets in or out." He raised his finger to his throat where the blood was drying to a trickle. "I'll hunt this bitch down myself, and when I'm done with her, she'll learn what it means to try and slay me."

His voice boomed out into the forest. "Do you hear me assassin? You've failed, and now I'm coming for you."

Two races at war, and one headstrong young huntress who has bitten off more than she can chew. What fate will await her if her target makes good on his threat?

Lord of the Night - Superhero

The dreams. Every night it's the same. Every day, I suppose I should say. I don't sleep at night any more.

At least, I think it is the same. Or parts of the same dream. It's like watching a movie that keeps skipping. A scene here, a scene there, and I'll be damned if I can make sense of it.

Who is she? Why did I lose it, go into a total red rage over some street girl I've never seen before? Why can't I remember?

Fine, I'd probably have taken the pimp down on general principles. What's the point of having powers if you don't use them for .. good? For justice? The papers seem to favour the term vigilante, or menace, depending on how deep in the crime families pockets they are. Meh, fuck 'em. They've had it their own way for far too long. Rules have changed, boys and girls. No more slaps on the wrist. No more thousand dollar an hour lawyers to find loopholes and technicalities.

Justice is coming for you.

Damnit, who is she? Why does she matter so much? Why can't I remember?

A superhero (of sorts) with no memory of his past, and dreams that torture his sleep. A face of a girl he can't remember, but one who stirs powerful emotions in the shadowed depths of his mind.

This is a character I had in a Supers campaign which ended before he could explore his own backstory. I'd be interested in giving it a go here.

Feng Shui:
Watching this Shoot Em Up BEST ACTION SCENES !!!!!!!!!!!! (this guy so embodies the Carnival of Carnage schtick  :D ) and this Equilibrium has got me in mind for playing some Feng Shui, as a gun weilding Killer (archtype), part of the Secret War, opposite someone ignorant of it, who gets drawn into it, becoming a Hero themselves. Someone like a Cop, Thief, Journalist or Private Investigator would fit the bill nicely.

What's Feng Shui?
For those not familiar with the setting, it's every Hong Kong action movie you've ever seen, all rolled into one. Seen 'Big Trouble in Little China'? That's a quiet Feng Shui session   :D

This Secret War is fought by those who know a simple, elemental truth of existence: certain sites harness and intensify chi (the life force). History belongs to those who are attuned to these sites, as they gain great fortune in matters both mundane and mystical. The scramble to possess the world's feng shui sites has now begun in earnest.

This battle rages throughout time and into the Netherworld as well, against sinister eunuch magicians of the past, secretive power groups of the present, and the twisted scientists who control the future. Fighting against them all are the pitiful remnants of the Dragons, fighting the good fight for freedom and justice.

Mystic fu powers meet advanced technology from the future, whilst awakened animals battle bio enhanced Abominations. Gamblers and spies match their wits with ancient sorcerers against a backdrop of explosions.

The Secret War is ready to be discovered.

7th Sea, The Princess Bride, Musketeers, it's all good. Daring deeds and witty banter, flashing blades and heaving bosoms. [one on one, possibly small group]

In a similar vein to the above, a story set in mythic China (or something close to it). Mystic powers, impossible stunts, hopping vampires, ghostly romances, it's all good.

WAR: A Private Reckoning [NC-H]
It will help if you watch before reading the plot I have in mind. Specifically from about 2:15 (the first appearance of your character on the rooftop) , to 3:39 (my character - or rather a male version thereof - leaving). It will set the scene nicely.

The Great War has begun, the forces of Disorder swarming over those of Order. In some nameless town of the human Empire, a Druchii (Dark Elf) wizard comes across one of his hated High Elf kindred, one of their Shadow Warrior scouts. Catching her by surprise, he intends to take his time killing her, to savour her feelings of helplessness, but a recall is sounded. He turns, leaving her alive, leaving her to wonder why. They meet again, several times, on the fields of battle, til finally he is able to capture her. He withdraws with his prize to the Black Ark that is his base. Killing her would be simple. Breaking her would be a challenge, and one he could relish ... and he does so enjoy a challenge. To take her, possess her again and again, crushing her spirit til she will become his willing slave.

[Bon-H] Ad Astra
Having come across this comic recently   I think it would make for a good story. Its worth a quick read for more details, but here's the short version ..

We never thought that First Contact would be this way. A shipload of refugees fleeing from a war between two alien superpowers, they told us what it was really like out amongst the stars. We'd been lucky up until now. A quirk of geography had placed us way out on the fringes, but the way that wars spread, that wouldn't likely stay that way.

This was war to knife. No quarter given. The smaller races had been sucked into it. Neutrality wasn't an option. The refugees confirmed that, telling tales of genocide, entire planets slagged to the bedrock. Well, if humanity was going to get sucked in, best we found out first hand about things.

That's why a handful of Explorer Corps were sent out to what we hoped were fringe systems, where we could gather information, and hopefully make a peaceful contact.

That was the plan anyway ...

Urban fantasy
Based on this picture I found.

You knew that that line had a bad reputation, but you dismissed the stories. People don't just vanish. Well, they do, but there's a reasonable explanation for it.

It was late. You were tired. You should have caught a cab, but the weather was foul, and there wasn't a single one to be seen.

With what happened though, you had to leave, to get out, to get away from everyone, and everything.

So you took the train. It was empty. The vibration of the tracks lulled you to sleep.

And now you really have got away from everything.

What next?

A dark mirror realm, sort of Noir / Sin City-ish. Towers that loom high overhead. Badly lit alleyways. Fog shrouded streets.

And a helpless little morsel, lost and alone.


Yes, my dear, I will use you. Rest assured of that. But I'll use you less harshly than others here will.

Of course, you're quite free to reject my offer of assistance. But one word of advice. Don't be out of doors when the sun goes down.

This vid

Repo Zydrate Anatomy [HQ]

gives a nice feel for this idea, and I could easily see the character Graverobber (or something very much like him) offering to help our little lost waif .. for a price, naturally.

Take a listen to this

Mercedes Lackey - Battle Dawn

There's definitely a story waiting to be told. Dark deeds and treachery, blood and honour, and at the end of it, who will stand triumphant on the field of battle, and what will be the losers fate?

« Last Edit: November 06, 2016, 10:11:38 AM by HairyHeretic »

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Re: [MUL / UN] A variety of ideas
« Reply #2 on: August 22, 2008, 12:16:13 PM »
Works in Progress:

Half formed ideas, cool images, things that aren't finished going bump in the night yet.

The Return of the Scarlett Empress. Might wait on 3rd ed coming out and then see which of my Solars I want to dust off for this one. It should be epic though :)

Fantasy setting - Kushiel / 7th Sea inspired
It started with the plague. Or ended with it, depending on how you look at things. Death stalked across the land, town after town, city after city, country after country. No one were spared. The rich fell alongside the poor, the wise by the foolish, the strong next to the weak. No one knows how many, all in all. It wasn't just one. It came sweeping like the waves on the tide. Five years. Ten. Twenty. No one knows exactly how long it lasted. When you're struggling to keep the fires of civilisation burning, some things fall by the wayside.

But we did. We surived. Well, our ancestors did. And over time, we regained our strength, regained some of what was lost, rebuild our homes and were able to look beyond the horizon once more. The world has changed greatly in the last century or two. How much so remains to be seen.

So, the plot bunny came nibbling. I have an idea of mixing the Kushielverse setting up a bit, adding a few dashes or two of 7th Sea, a bit of other fantasy elements, and seeing what I can come up with. A settling more fantasy than it was, building on the ruins of a fallen age.

Mysterious ruins are uncovered under a number of major cities, and in other scattered places, indicative of a civilisation that is lost to history. Scholars speculate it might be the mythical Atlantis, spoken of in ancient Hellenic writings. The first couple were found within a month or so, and when word spread, other nobles sought more, and occasionally found them.

At some point after that, the plague began to rise. Some blamed the opened ruins, or the artifacts taken from them. Some blamed angry spirits. Some called it a natural plague carried in from the East, or the South, by traders. In truth, no one really knows the origin. But it swept across every land, carried by those who were unaware of it, or tried later to flee it.

By the time it had run it's course, years later, well over half the population was dead. Without enough hands to work the land, crops withered and starvation stalked in the wake of the plague, famine and further pestilences adding to the death toll.

Civilisation seemed to fare better along the coasts, or at least fewer seemed to fall ill there. There were still loses, but not quite as many.

Over time, other strange things were noted. Few at first, but each year a few more stories, a few more reports.

Actual sorcery. Something awakened in certain bloodlines it seemed, that allowed workings beyond those seen before.

Strange creatures seen in the forests, the dead cities, the wild places. Creatures thought only myth, but real enough to kill.

Civilisation is stronger along the coastlines of the different countries. With no one to work the land for perhaps two centuries, many towns and cities are ruined and overgrown, haunt to beasts, monsters, and (so it is rumoured) feral things that were once people, lost to madness, and perhaps carriers still of the plagues that ravaged the world. Forests are overgrown, canals flooded farmland to swamp, and entrances to strange underground ruins dot the landscape.

The basic character of the Kushielverse setting and it's people would remain, the different countries and cultures recognisiable, but with a fantasy twist on top of them. Magic and monsters are still rare, but seen as an existing part of the world. Much knowledge is lost, and countless treasures sit under carpets of dust and moss, lost to the ages. The 7th Sea swashbuckling would be the feel of the setting, with scope for urban and wilderness stories, politics and intrigue along with monsters and treasure hunting.

Klingon Star Trek game

Space: the final frontier.

These are the voyages of the cruiser IKV Sompek. Its continuing mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, and conquer them for the glory of the Empire.

The Four Years War is over, the Treaty of Axanar signed some 6 months ago. The Empire has taken it's measure of the Federation.

Destroying an Empire to win a war is no victory. And ending a battle to save an Empire is no defeat.

With the Empire rebuilding, exploration missions are dispatched, to seek worlds and races to bring into the Empire and strengthen it for the future. The IKS Sompek is an experiment, a crew that is far more mixed than KDF vessels tend to be. The ship itself is a prototype, an upgraded and upscaled D7, about on par with the later K'tinga class.


Gorn: Bordering the Empire, the Gorn Hegemony consists of a number of clans spread across a score of worlds. The world of Axelot II seceeded from the Hegemony and joined the Klingon Empire some 3 generations ago. The large size and great strength of Gorn makes them a valued part of Klingon ground forces.

Orions: The Orion Syndicate can be found across most of the worlds of the Alpha Quadrant, and those of the Empire are no exception. Orions are noted for their abilities where .. less than honourable ... activities are necessary. This makes them occasionally useful to have around. While not present in great numbers, some have made themselves useful in the KDF.

Ferasans: Ferasans are a genetically augmented felinoid species from Ferasa that split off of the Caitian race 800 years ago. Unlike Caitians, Ferasans are saber-toothed and some have telepathic abilities. They are bipedal, have tails that assist their balance, extended maxillary canine teeth and large eyes with excellent night vision. Their skin is covered with a soft fur coat, and their felinoid ears can pick up frequencies that most humanoids are unable to detect. Some Ferasans have telepathic abilities.

Letheans: A telepathic species, Letheans are feared and respected as mercenaries throughout the Alpha Quadrant. Letheans are bald, with a vertical bone ridge that runs across their face and heads. They have small bone protrusions that can grow along this ridge and on their cheeks, and their skin is mottled and has multiple cartilage folds. Their eyes have a reddish tint. Letheans are descended from reptiles and prefer the dark.

Command crew roles:
First Officer (Tactical and Civilians)
First Warrior (Security)
Chief Engineer (Engineering)
Chief Medical Officer (Medical)
Chief Science Officer (Science)
Chief Operations Officer (Operations)

Departments and Specialities Crew: 800+
Conn Officer
Energy Weapons Officer
Ground Warfare Specialist 
Projectile Weapons Officer
Shield Distribution Officer
Space Warfare Specialist

Armory Officer
Assault Squad Officer
Explosives Expert

Damage Control Engineer 
Diagnostic Engineer 
Fabrication Engineer
Maintenance Engineer
Matter-Antimatter Specialist 
Systems Engineer
Technician (non specialist)
Warp Core Engineer

Flight Deck Officer (Fighters and shuttles)
Hazard System Officer
Systems Officer (Deflector, Sensors, Tractor Beam, Transporter )

Astrometrics Scientist
Development Lab Scientist 
Gravimetric Scientist
Photonic Studies Scientist
Research Lab Scientist
Warp Theorist


Bartender / Chef

Bekk (Enlisted)
Corporal (NCO)
Sergeant (NCO)
Ensign (Officer)
Lieutenant (Officer)
Lt Commander (Officer)
Commander (Officer)
Captain (Officer)

Changeling: The Dreaming
It's a game I've always wanted to try, but never had the chance to. Would work best as a group game, rather than a solo, I think. My character preference would be Seelie Troll.

Dawn of Worlds
This is a collaborative story telling game, where the PCs are the Deities of a newly formed world. You start by using your powers to shape the world itself, move on to creating races, and go from there. The game isn't really about conflict with each other so much as jointly creating an interesting world and story.

Into The Far West
Wuxia western steampunk. Just go check out the website, it'll be quicker :) Still waiting on this one to actually come out so we can get a proper look at it.

XCOM inspired
Got an idea for a group game, sort of XCOM with low level superpowers / abilities. PCs recruited to an XCOM like agency due to the fact they have a unique genetic makeup that reacts with an alien substance to create superhuman abilities.

Images without plots (yet)

Images of characters I'd like to play

Scion of Thor or Odin I think. More Odin than Thor it feels like. An assassin before his Visitation.


Kinda reminds me of a Zenith caste I once played, whose goal was to take down the Mask of Winters.

Images of characters I'd like to play opposite



Urban Fantasy

My life before hers. An oath foresworn in one lifetime will be honoured in another.

Dresden Files, or High Fantasy?

I think this is Big Trouble in Little China, redone in the Old West.

Sci Fi





This makes me think Exalted too.



I've been playing around with creating my own world. It's still extremely WIP, but you can see my ideas here

And just because :)

« Last Edit: April 19, 2017, 08:11:27 PM by HairyHeretic »

Online HairyHereticTopic starter

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Re: HairyHeretic's ideas thread
« Reply #3 on: March 18, 2016, 06:32:18 PM »
Updated, tweaked and modified. Added a few new ideas, and interest ranked, shifted a couple of older ones to presently inactive

If you see anything that interests you, let me know. Please PM me though, rather than posting in the thread.