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  1. Bastard

    What do you hate to see in a post?

    Talent. I hate it when my role play partner is a good writer. Acting all haughty with your likable characters and engaging narrative. Jerk. My real pet peeve isn't even with other peoples' posts but rather their reaction to my own. I'm not a very good writer. It's not self-pity, just an observation. So if something about my posting or even my writing style in general is irking you or it needs improvement and you think you can help then please, please, please tell me. Don't call me out in front of everyone and embarrass me but send me a polite message and we can talk about it. There are some things that I might not be willing to change. Maybe I like it or maybe I'm just being stubborn. But I am always open to discuss it. I don't just take criticism well, I crave it. If you PM me just to tell me I suck then you can eat a bag of - Oh! My break is over. Back to work. 😎
  2. [Outside Blairville: The Forest by the Road] It was all such a blur. A shadow was cast over his face and then suddenly there was an explosion of colors. Next thing Anton knew, he was bouncing on the back of a donkey and watching blood drip on the ground. It was an odd thing to see his own blood not being drawn out in a tube or sitting in a vial and it had a strange taste like copper as some of it dribbled down his dry lips. As the stars started clearing from his vision, Anton felt a dull pain in his surely fractured nose and tried to move only to find he was bound. "You tied me up? Where would I go?" Anton groaned, probably too low for anyone to hear. The poor boy had never been struck before. Even his father, for all of his bluster had never struck him. Then again, the Mortimer patriarch could not afford to injure so valuable a specimen. "You will tell me why there is no food or succor departing the city for the outlying villages." Anton was finally coming to his senses and it took him a few moments to process the question. Why couldn't he hitch a ride with a guard caravan to this COTH? Sure there were bandits and the like on the roads but that was the point of guards and so why weren't they going out? Anton had made the connection back in Blairville. Food was not being delivered to the outlying towns and villages because there were no guards who would accompany the wagons and there were no guards on the orders of Blairville herself. "New gods... Green fire." Anton whispered, straining his neck to look up at that same grim visage he had thrown dirt at. It was a religious matter. Or better yet, as is often the case it was a political matter being covered up as religious. This was where Anton's views on religion clashed with his father. Religion did not start conflict but rather was the excuse to engage in it. After all, what better way to rally the people than to call them to defend their god? Anton's hands struggled against their binding. It was no use trying to get out of them as they were expertly tied but that was not the boy's intention. He managed to rub the rope against his glove just enough to slip it off. Underneath was a pale hand that looked as if it had never seen the sun and it was covered in what appeared to be lesions of rotting flesh. Let his captors see his disease and draw their own conclusions as to what exactly they have invited into their band of merry men. @Vansin
  3. I'm still here! It's been a helluva work week. 😴

  4. Told myself last night I was going to go to bed at a reasonable time. Is 2am reasonable?

    At work. I hate myself. 

  5. Bastard

    Antonius G. Mortimer

    True Name Antonius Griswold de Mortimer Common Name Anton Birthplace The Black City of Patia, Terrenus Alignment Chaotic Good [1] Religion Agnostic - Anton was raised by his father who abhors religion and specifically targeted Gaianism during his bigoted tirades. Because of their falling out, Anton is currently questioning everything he thinks he knows about religion and divinity. Class Scholar Family Anton's mother, whom he never knew is deceased and his father, Griswold Romero de Mortimer, the patriarch of the Mortimer family, is still alive. His mother's family is unknown and all of his father's siblings are deceased. He has only met a few of his cousins a handful of times. The Mortimer family can trace their roots in Terrenus back to before the rule of Odin Haze and though their importance and their wealth has waned over the generations, they are still an influential family with allies in the right places. Family Motto "Death is not a circumstance of life, it is a condition of living." Rumors There was a rumor among Anton's schoolmates that his father was a lich or that he was actually already dead and that his spirit was trapped inside a decaying body Some folks say that during their early days of power, the Mortimer family served the infamous King Levas but some of those same sources also claim that they are descendants of the terrible Zengi, the Witch-King Race Human Gender Male Age 16 Height 180 cm [5ft 11in] Weight 70 kg [155 lbs.] Hair As is most common among the Mortimer family, Anton's hair is thin and wispy with a natural platinum color Eyes Anton's eyes are a light but vibrant blue that betray his otherwise docile features. Although the shape of his eyes make him appear soft and maybe even a little tired, they are also striking to look at, like a sky that you know could be filled with storm clouds any moment. Skin His skin is currently pale but as he spends more time in the sun, it will darken with a healthy flush. Along the back of his hands and on his wrists are what appear to be dark bruises and patches of dry and irritated skin. Build Anton is scrawny with narrow shoulders and an overall soft demeanor. He looks like he has never known a day of physical labor in his life or finished a steak. Bio Antonius has effectively forsaken his family name and any claim he might have to what remains of the Mortimer fortune by fleeing from Patia, the city of his birth after learning that his father wanted to ship him to a research facility on Biazo Isle. As have most every Mortimer male before him, Anton suffers from a debilitating genetic disorder that is literally eating him away. After generations of family research and spending their fortune, the most that has been achieved is to improve the quality of living with the condition though one is still more likely to perish from it before old age. Antonius Griswold, so named for his father is currently in the Wilds of Terrenus, on his way to COTH (Church On The Hill) seeking a cure in the form of divine intervention [1] I really like the D&D alignment system but it by no means fully encompasses my character's motives or future development but rather is an accurate starting point [Picture pending until I figure out how to post one]
  6. [Outside Blairville: The Forest by the Road] A funny thing that perspective can do to sounds. The cry that Anton heard sounded to him less like enthusiasm and more like bloodlust. As he crouched even lower in the bushes with his knees tight against his chest, he thought he could hear what sounded like a song within the rolling thunder that was their charge. As a boy, Anton read countless stories of high adventure and dreamed of seeing the world for himself. As the hoard charged in his direction and he felt as if the ground shook his whole body, he thought of one story in particular; The Centaur Charge. There was a time when Anton was filled with nothing but possibilities and hope. Sure he had a strange childhood in which his father always wanted him to see a doctor even though he wasn't sick. They often took his blood, too and always seemed to be checking his skin. Back when Anton read those stories of high adventure. Back when he believed that he might one day live those adventures. The centaur charged like a stampede around the perimeters of their desert home. Many stories depicted them as forest-dwellers the size of mere men but these centaur were more like giants who commanded the wasteland. This was before they told him about his condition. Anton wanted to one day feel the vibrations in his chest from a centaur charge. As these giants on horses stampeded his way, he felt it and he wasn't thinking of high adventure at that moment. He was just thinking about home. "You are caught, boy. Stand and let us see what you carry." Viscerex's voice was made ominous by the steel ring of the helmet. The way the voice came from above and behind him made Anton think of his father. No! He would not go home! His father cared nothing for him. Years of having him poked and prodded "for his own good" were undone when the Mortimer patriarch's true motivation was revealed; discovering a cure for himself. In that moment, Anton wanted to lash out one final time before he was struck down. To scream his defiance at the world and tell it that he was going to die on his terms rather than being eaten alive by some black death. As he stood up, one of Anton's gloved hands scooped up a palm-full of dirt and in one, quick motion, he spun around to face this man and flung the dirt right in his face. To his absolute horror, Anton watched the dirt hit the close-faced helm of a grim visage. "Ah shit!" @Vansin
  7. Bastard

    A big welcome to Valucre's new members!

    And here I thought I'd never get a party. It's a little overdue and appears to be hastily put together but I suppose it will suffice. Should have figured it would be BYOB. 🙄 Thank you for the welcome! 😁
  8. Bastard

    Afternoon, Folks!

    Welcome aboard, mate. I just got here myself but she's a fine ship. I've never played D&D but I'm familiar with the settings and Eberron is definitely the best. I'm a big fan of high adventure and intrigue and Eberron pulls it off with dramatic style. I enjoy Eberron lore so much that I am willing to forgive your preference for Gen 4 over the obviously superior Gen 3. 😎
  9. Bastard

    What are you playing?

    Exactly! I love RPGs and immersing myself in the stories but they all have such a learning curve when it comes to leveling up, alchemy, all the things you mentioned. I'm currently playing Dragon Age: Inquisition and I keep putting it down and picking it up. With these single-player RPGs, I find myself more and more motivated by the story and the lore and I can find all that stuff online. Do you think.... No. Could it be? Are we just getting old?
  10. Bastard

    What are you reading?

    @supernal Thank you for the suggestions. I actually have Contact on my to-read list on Goodreads. I love alien stories and it will be cool to read one from a scientist's perspective. I just recently got into e-reading because of how much cheaper it is and have found myself willing to read more titles than I ever would have been willing to buy before. I will get on Goodreads and check out the summaries and reviews for the other two.
  11. Bastard

    What are you reading?

    'dOther fans of Fantasy seem dumbfounded when I tell them that I've never read Robert Jordan's The Wheel of Time and so I'm finally picking it up with the first book in the series, The Eye of the World. I'm ignoring any prequels or side-stories for now in favor of reading the main novels in their published order. The series was finished with three books by Brandon Sanderson, author of The Way of Kings, one of my forever favorites in the Fantasy genre. I am trying my best to always be reading at least two books at once, one fiction and the other non-fiction. This is something recent I am trying as I've found I have lost myself too deeply in fictional worlds and would like to (re)discover some of the wonders of the real world. So does anybody have any suggestions? My favorite subjects include history, sociology and religion. As a science fiction fan, I also love science, especially speculative theory (treating science fiction ideas as real or plausible) but just know that I would require something that speaks to the layman. I'd also love to get into some biographies (auto-biographies are a big plus) about anybody you think is interesting from the great impactors of history to pop culture icons.
  12. Bastard

    What are you playing?

    I can't really explain it but lately I get antsy and anxious when I'm playing video games. I used to love it and I suppose a part of me still does but I have such a hard time sticking it out with any one game. The last game I actually played to completion (finished the story) was Arkham Asylum. I think that if I could find some people I enjoy chatting with, I could really get into MMOs like Neverwinter or Elder Scrolls Online for the Xbox but when left to my own devices, I become easily bored. Diablo III is another game I'd love to play with some cool people. The last game like that I played on console was Champions of Norrath with some friends from school and we had a blast.
  13. Bastard

    Dear Writers Block

    Dear Writer's Block, We have been together for years and I think it is time we see other people. It's not you, it's me. I know that is a clichéd line but it's true. I have changed over these years and you have remained as stagnant and uninspiring since the day we met. I also have this sneaking suspicion that you don't really exist and if that's true then I take back my earlier cliché and accept full responsibility for my own apathy and woe-is-me attitude. But just in case you do exist then let me just say that my name is a metaphor and so between the two of us, the only real bastard is you. Yours Truly, B P.S. Eat shit
  14. Bastard

    A Genie Appears!

    1. There is a person I know whom I loathe to the core and since I am currently resigned to the petty, I want his life to be forever annoying. Leave his family and loved ones out of it. I just want all of the little annoyances of the world to happen to him. May he be stopped by every red light. May every carbonated beverage over-fizz and spill down his hand, leaving his fingers sticky. May every questionable piece of paper he finds in a pocket after doing laundry be a receipt or an expired coupon rather than money. May every penny he ever finds be heads down. Does he have a cat? I hope it hates him and scratches him while giving love and purrs to the rest of the world. I hope the colors in his clothes fade every time he does laundry. May all of his nice shirts always be missing a button. 2. I never want to hear or read the term 'irregardless' for as long as I may live. I don't even care if people continue to use it just not around me. 3. This is technically a double-wish but it is also double petty so I'm going to make an executive decision and allow it. Do away with area codes in phone numbers and give me the number 867-5309.
  15. Not too far away from COTH... In his sixteen years of life, Anton had never left the Black City of Patia and now he was walking through a forest in the Wilds of Terrenus, looking every bit like bandit bait. Sure he met many an exotic people from all across Terrenus, from Ignatz to Last Chance but what few stories they told him only strengthened his will to leave. They were also poor storytellers as they were doctors, mages and alchemists who cared more about studying his condition than they did curing the boredom of a boy who spent his formative years being treated more like a lab rat than a child. And so, under the cover of darkness he gathered what little personal savings he had and fled the Black City without leaving so much as a note to inform his father of his intentions. Now Anton wondered at the wisdom of his course. Although the rain was slight, his fine clothes were damp and clung to his clammy skin. The sun was setting and soon it would be dark. When he had arrived in Blairville he had heard stories of dire beasts in the Wilds and even bands of savages waylaying travelers. If stories of monsters and bandits were not enough, Blairville itself offered a plethora of reasons for the unworldly boy to never leave. The city stood in such contrast to the dismal Black City of Patia and he was overwhelmed by its exotic wonder. Blairville was multicultural as where the only diversity Patia offered was the insistent bickering between the Patian loyalists and Gaian philosophers. The most exciting time Anton ever spent in the Black City was on the rare occasions in which he managed to sneak into the Devil's Alibi, a four-story building of magic and revelry for Patia's night life. A warm breeze wouldn't have brought Anton out of his daydreams of Blairville except it pushed open a spot in the forest canopy and splashed him with gathering rain water. The boy's platinum hair, a common namesake of the Mortimer family clings to a face that appears too young to be sixteen. His usually pale cheeks are flushed from his hike and his prominent lips have become cracked from nervous chewing. He is scrawny but not malnourished and might be considered handsome if his youthfulness did not make him more-so cute. A whistle. Three. Anton stopped in his tracks and looked around. He was not so worldly as to distinguish the difference between bird whistles but he knew that what he heard now did not come from any animal. It sounded like a signal. Though lack of experience makes him naïve, Anton is an intelligent boy. He is well-educated in history and politics and his father encouraged him to learn about different cultures and even the arcane arts. So when he heard the three whistles, he easily identified it as a signal of some sort. Little good it did him now as he was unarmed and even if he wasn't, he had never been in a fight in his life. When he heard another whistle, the boy ducked low and slipped into some bushes off the side of the path. He was as quiet as a mouse but was far more adept in hiding the shadows of a city than in the bushes of the Wilds. @Vansin