Dr. VooDoo posted:

For those who have made CtL second edition PCs what would you say the upper limit for differences in a Changeling’s Mien can be from their original human appearance? I’m thinking of making a PC that’s like a garden or meadow come to life yet given a monstrous form. The beauty of wild flowers, grass, and bark juxtaposed onto a hulking, beastly form so I’m trying to get right up to the line without crossing it

Tollymain posted:

a meadow of human flesh

Jonas Albrecht posted:

That does sound rad but honestly I think making Earthblood a kart racer was the right move.

bewilderment posted:

Shockeh posted:

I really like V5, now we've expelled the Alt Reich pandering;

Let troupes decide for themselves what happened to Xaviar or whatever,

Basic Chunnel posted:

hmmm https://www.cnn.com/2019/06/11/us/m...m_medium=social

quote:

Welcome new students, to your new home for the next few months, or until you die. Whichever comes first.

I am OscarDiggs and I'm now recruiting for a Generic NwoD/Innocents game taking place in prestigious boarding school, Trismegistus Academy, nestled in the city of Warewood on the east coast(ish) of the US. The players will be characters that are aged somewhere between 14 and 17 who have never before been to Trismegistus Academy or the city that houses it, and will have to solve the mystery of the town and the strange marks on their hands, before a terrible fate befalls them all. We'll be using 2nd edition.

I'm thinking this will be more of a mystery game then a horror gamer, though there will be horror elements, along with punching well above your weight class. Consider something of a mix between Buffy and Persona.

Character creation wise, there are a few guidelines to follow and a few things to be aware of.

-Your characters have to be between the ages of 14 and 17 and must have never spent a night in the city before. You can know other people who attend or have attended the Academy, maybe an older sibling who started last year, or a friend who got in on the same scholarship. But no city natives.

-Given the charged situation of guns and schools in America, you need a drat good reason to be starting with firearms as a skill and you certainly won't be starting out with guns. They'll be available to get ahold of, but it'll be as easy for you as it would be for regular kids to get guns.

-The strongest 14 year old will never be as strong as the strongest 25 year old. For the sake of simplicity, we'll still be sticking to the 5 dot system of attributes and skills but you should consider that the scale for kids and adults is different. Fighting adults will always leave you at somewhat of a disadvantage.

-This game is set in a world of darkness, not the world of darkness. If Vampires do appear, chances are there's not a world wide conspiracy of them controlling the world. Mages could exist, but there probably wasn't an Atlantis. The chances of supernatural Fae creatures kidnapping humans are reasonably slim. While things that appear or are based on the supernatural creatures of the other mainline games might appear, they're not the primary focus of this game.

-Part of setting this in a boarding school is the isolation and lack of resources the characters will face. To that end, I'll only allow for starting with merits like Retainers or Allies if the NPC's in question are well written into the backstory, and even then only at a max of 2 dots. For the most part, you'll gather your allies and resources in game.

-If you have aspiration ideas for your characters right out of the gate, then fine. However, feel free to leave your aspirations blank until later on when you've all been established in the setting for a bit longer.

-As Children and Teenagers, you start at size 4 instead of 5.

This list isn't exhaustive and I may have to add things through the recruitment depending on what comes up.

Apart from that, follow the regular character creation rules for NWoD and we'll proceed from there. Unless something changes I shall run recruitment for around 2 weeks.

I'd also like the following questions answered in character.

“How did you earn your place at the Academy?”

“Who's being left behind in your old life?”

“What do you think of the little you've seen about the Academy, the City, and the Lodge so far?”

“Trismegistus Academy is reasonably famous. What rumours have you heard about it?”

“What's the spookiest thing you've seen in your life, before today?”

Soonmot posted:

W:tF question: Will a silver bullet bypass gift/merit granted ballistic armor? I'll obviously have body armor reduce the damage, but I'm unsure about non physical armor, since silver is basically a werewolf's bane.

Old Doggy Bastard posted:

Vampire 5th Edition

Jonas Albrecht posted:

I've been trying to find any info about Earthblood at E3, and there's not much. There's a wikipedia article up now though,

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Werewolf:_The_Apocalypse_%E2%80%93_Earthblood

Oberst posted:

I have to make frenzy checks every time I see the V5 three column format

quote:

THE DAME OF BRICK AND RUST:
You sighed. That's what drew her attention. You sighed, and she reached into your emptiness and yanked you to her sure as a hook through an eye. You leave your breath behind.
The Hedge around her demesne was a rolling barren of tree stumps and mathematically precise apple orchards. Miniature towns of tripledeckers with their own miniature carriage paths sprung up like mushrooms around the stumps and trickling rivers.
It all centered around an infinitely deep valley split in half by a massive frothing river, constrained by a scattering of differently sized water wheels, painted with fanciful designs or left bare to rot in the wet. The river flowed up and out of the other side of the valley without so much as slowing.
Within the valley itself lay Her Mill, a maze-like brickwork structure dotted over with windows and bay doors. Train tracks emerged at odd angles, carrying crates of unknowable materials, things in cages, massive tanks sloshing precipitously overhead. Rust pervaded all, sending bright orange stains bleeding down whatever they touch.
At the center of Her Mill stood the Clocktower, a corkscrew jutting out over the lip of the valley, slowly rotating in place, the uncountable faces covered over in a spaghetti of hands pointing to more symbols than could be written down in a lifetime. Did you see them in your dreams? Is that what drew you here, the Dame's alphabet of hours? The tolling of her bell, counting the days of your shifts?
Within the jumble of Her Mill, workshops bustled with activity, goblin servants tended to massive looms, which produce only stories and fed into an engine which burned stories for passion and whose pressure moved a single counter on a single face of the Clocktower forward one half-click. A radial spiral of tiny woodcarvers each carving masterpieces from the larger's cast-off flakes.
One wing produced only inflammable shirtwaists, to distribute to the charred workers in the Fire Factory. Another cut down fruit trees in order to make wooden fruit. Did you work the spinning wheels, spinning dragonfly wings into garrote wire? Did you carry boulders of coal twice as big as your body?
The Dame herself deigned never set foot on the Mill floor, rather had herself carried about in a glass enclosure, appearing as a cloud of smoke with gloved hands, beating against the inside of the glass.
When she entertained other members of the Gentry, she had you lie face-down upon the cement floors, that the feet of her guests might not get dirty. Others were worn as slippers by visiting dignitaries, creatures of greed and pure wealth, with eyes like gold buttons and skin of fine silk. Lapel gills, flaring with dramatic passion.
When she danced, the Dame had hair like white water rapids, spilling down her back in a frothy cape. She was adorned with a crown of logs, and her shoulders were massive water wheels, which bore an array of eyes the color of a supernova. Her body was a splay of interlocked mechanics, equal parts typewriter and spinning jenny, and she danced upon a multitude of sharp metal points, all of which punctured a severed hand. Her dress was smoke woven into a chain-link lattice.
One day, she fell ill, and canceled a party moments after arranging the floor. She retired to her chambers, which was the obsidian Boiler in the very heart of Her Mill. She did not emerge again. Some of you escaped in this first change. Others stayed, suddenly terrified of the uncertainty. On a few occasions, some of her guests returned, saw the domain fraying at the seams, and made off with whatever struck their fancy.
At the outer edges, Her Mill began collapsing. Workshops rotted from the inside out, with wet brick collapsing beneath scabrous shingles. The sickness worked its way quickly, no matter how much the goblins and automated servants rallied to stop it. Healthy sections were detonated to amputate at the first sign of infection. The river was redirected to try and wash it clean, though this only spread the problem.
As Her Mill fell to rot and dissipated, the valley grew shallow, the river less rapid. The few wheels still working turned slower, and the last workshops providing the very tools to keep her living simply faded away in a puff of steam, till there was nothing left but the Boiler, massive and black as the sky, whose fire burned to ashes with the last of the stars.
It cracked, with a sound like a violin breaking. It cracked again, breaking off an iceberg chunk, dissolving into a flood of beetle shells.
You are standing in a parking lot, empty, surrounded by more empty parking lots. There are grasshoppers and crickets, though in your head it still sounds like the Boiler melting away.
The sun is setting behind a highway, though you may not know what that is. A spiral of dust rolls lazily across the blacktop. You wonder, briefly, if this is Hell.
The blinking bank sign informs you that it is June, 2019, despite the malfunctioning of every third bulb. Sirens wail in the distance. A cloud bank rolls in from the north. You breathe in, for the first time since you left, and the air tastes cold.
Welcome to Worcester.

Rand Brittain posted:

Yeah, they seem to think they're playing by JoJo rules.

RocknRollaAyatollah posted:

It's really easy to stake a vampire though when they're posing and voguing instead of doing anything meaningful.

RocknRollaAyatollah posted:

It's really easy to stake a vampire though when they're posing and voguing instead of doing anything meaningful.

PHIZ KALIFA posted:

Would the death of a Gentry increase the difficulty of accessing the Hedge, or is it not like the Gauntlet/Astral/whichever from the old systems? One plot thread I'm milling is that there's a citywide depression epidemic which supernaturally deadens emotions in order to stave off the Hedge, and the players have to decide if they want to undo that effect to make harvesting Glamor easier, or keep it in place to better hide despite the cost to the city's mortal population.

Angry Lobster posted:

Yeah, it's pretty neat.

Speaking about VTES, last week I learned how to play the game. Great system, the table dynamics it generates are amazing, but getting four or five nerds to sit in the same table for two hours is a pain the rear end.