Elder Scrolls: Risus - Character Creation 2 (Clichés)

_RACES OF TAMRIEL_

Choose your character's race from the following list of Tamrielic races available as Player Characters in an Elder Scrolls: Risus campaign. Once you have decided on a Race for your character, record your skill sets, any racial power, and languages.

Altmer (High Elves)

• Illusion, Alteration, Conjuration, Destruction, Restoration, Enchanting.
• Highborn: Altmer may use any cliché to cast magic spells from the Alteration, Conjuration, Destruction or Restoration schools, as though those schools were in their skill set.
• Altmer begin play speaking Altmeri & Cyrodilic +1 language per die of Altmer.

Argonian

• Resist Disease, Breath Water/ Swim, Lockpicking, Alteration, Light Armor, Restoration, Pickpocket, Sneak
• Histskin (1/day): Argonians may use their racial cliché to recover from wounds as though they were well-rested.
• Argonians begin play speaking Jel & Cyrodilic +1 language per die of Argonian

Bosmer (Wood Elf)

• Resist Poison, Resist Disease, Command Animals, Archery, Alchemy, Light Armor, Pickpocket, Sneak.
• Bosmer begin play speaking Altmeri & Cyrodilic +1 language per die of Bosmer.

Breton (Manmer)

• Resist/Absorb Magic, Conjuration, Alchemy, Alteration, Illusion, Restoration, Speech
• Bretons begin play speaking Cyrodilic & one other language +1 language per die of Breton.

Dunmer (Dark Elf)

• Resist Fire, Destruction, Alchemy, Alteration, Illusion, Light Armor, Sneak.
• Ancestor's Wrath: For 6 rounds any opponent damaging the Dunmer suffers the same damage as Fire Damage.
• Dunmer begin play speaking either Dunmeri or Ashlander & Cyrodilic +1 language per die of Dunmer.

Imperial (Cyrodil)

• Restoration, Block, Destruction, Enchanting, Heavy Armor, One-Handed.
• Imperial Luck: Cyrodils roll an extra 1d6 when rolling for Treasure.
• Voice of the Emperor: Roll Imperial. All Hostile and Unfriendly creatures and characters within earshot must roll above your result or move up one step on the NPC Reaction table.
• Imperials begin play speaking Cyrodilic & one language +1 language per die of Imperial.

Khajiit

• Unarmed/Claw Attacks, Sneak, Alchemy, Archery, One-Handed, Smithing, Speech.
• Night Eye: Khajiit do not suffer penalties for operating in darkness.
• Khajiit begin play speaking Ta'Agra & Cyrodilic +1 language per die of Khajiit.

Nord

• Resist Frost, Two-Handed, Block, Light Armor, One-Handed, Smithing, Speech.
• Battlecry: Roll Nord. All Hostile and unfriendly characters and creatures within earshot must roll to beat your total. Those who do not, flee for one round for ever die you have in this Cliché. Unfriendly characters who are forced to flee become Hostile if encountered again.
• Nord begin play speaking Nordic & Cyrodilic +1 language per die of Nord.

Orc (Orsimer)

• Heavy Armor, Block, Enchanting, One-Handed, Smithing, Two-Handed.
• Berserker Rage: Roll Orc. The result is your Berserker Pool. Each point of berserker pool can be used as a bonus to attack rolls or to rolls made to resist damage; and as a penalty to speech, lockpicking, sneak, and any magic rolls. The berserker pool dissipates at a rate of 1 point per round, and the berserker rage ends when there are no more points in your berserker pool. Every point of Berserker spent during the rage causes fatigue to the Orc. Once the character has suffered max fatigue, he does not fall unconscious until the rage ends, but begins suffering wounds instead of fatigue for every point of Berserker spent.
• Orcs begin play speaking Orcish & Cyrodilic +1 language per die of Orc.

Redguard (Regada)

• Resist Poison, One-Handed, Alteration, Archery, Block, Destruction, Smithing.
• Adrenaline Rush: Roll Redguard against a difficulty equal to 3 x the number of fatigue you are currently suffering. If you succeed, you may ignore your fatigue for a number of rounds equal to your ranks in Redguard.
• Redguards being play speaking Yokudan & Cyrodilic +1 language per die of Redguard.

_OCCUPATIONS_

Choose your second Cliché from the following list of occupations. Record your Occupation and Skill Sets on your character sheet.

Acrobat

• Agility, Endurance, Acrobatics, One-Handed, Block, Archery, Security, Sneak, Speech.

Agent

• Agility, Personality, Acrobatics, Illusion, Archery, Security, Sneak, Speech.

Archer

• Agility, Strength, Smithing, One-Handed, Unarmed, Light Armor, Archery, Sneak.

Assassin

• Intelligence, Speed, Acrobatics, Alchemy, One-Handed, Light Armor, Archery, Security, Sneak.

Barbarian

• Speed, Strength, Smithing, Alchemy, One-Handed, Block, Two-Handed, Unarmed, Light Armor.

Bard

• Intelligence, Personality, Alchemy, One-Handed, Block, Illusion, Light Armor, Speech.

Battlemage

• Intelligence, Strength, Alchemy, Alteration, One-Handed, Conjuration, Destruction.

Crusader

• Strength, Willpower, Athletics, One-Handed, Destruction, Unarmed, Heavy Armor, Restoration.

Healer

• Personality, Willpower, Alchemy, Alteration, Destruction, Illusion, Restoration, Speech.

Knight

• Personality, Strength, One-Handed, Block, Two-Handed, Unarmed, Heavy Armor, Illusion, Speech.

Mage

• Intelligence, Willpower, Alchemy, Alteration, Conjuration, Destruction, Illusion, Restoration, Enchanting.

Monk

• Agility, Willpower, Acrobatics, Alteration, Athletics, Unarmed, Archery, Security, Sneak.

Nightblade

• Speed, Willpower, Acrobatics, Alteration, Athletics, One-Handed, Destruction, Light Armor, Restoration.

Pilgrim

• Endurance, Personality, Smithing, Block, One-Handed, Light Armor, Security, Speech.

Rogue

• Personality, Speed, Alchemy, Athletics, One-Handed, Block, Illusion, Light Armor, Speech.

Scout

• Endurance, Speed, Acrobatics, Alchemy, Smithing, Athletics, One-Handed, Block, Light Armor.

Sorcerer

• Endurance, Intelligence, Alchemy, Alteration, Conjuration, Destruction, Heavy Armor, Restoration.

Spellsword

• Endurance, Willpower, Alteration, One-Handed, Block, Heavy Armor, Destruction, Illusion, Restoration.

Thief

• Agility, Speed, Acrobatics, Light Armor, Archery, Security, Sneak, Speech.

Warrior

• Endurance, Strength, Smithing, Athletics, One-Handed, Block, Two-handed, Unarmed, Heavy Armor.

Witchhunter

• Agility, Intelligence, Alchemy, Athletics, Conjuration, Destruction, Archery, Security.

_BIRTH SIGNS_

Your character's third Clichés, comes from the star sign most dominant in the sky above Cyrodil when she was born. Choose and record your character's Birth sign, skill set and any power granted.

The Apprentice

• Alteration, Conjuration, Destruction, Illusion, Restoration. Any Cliché possessed by the character may be used to cast spells from these schools as if they were part of that Cliché's skill set; but the character cannot resist magic except with Clichés that specifically list "Resist Magic" in their skill set.

The Atronach

• Alteration, Conjuration, Destruction, Illusion, Restoration, Resist Magic.

The Lady

• Athletics, Resist Disease, Resist Poison.

The Lord

• Block, Heavy Armor, Light Armor, Resist Magic.

The Lover

• Agility, Acrobatics, Sneak.
• Lover's Kiss: May kiss a character or creature and make an attack with this Cliché to paralyze the target for one round per rank in this Cliché.

The Mage

• Alteration, Conjuration, Destruction, Illusion, Restoration.

The Ritual

• Conjuration.
• Turn Undead: Roll The Ritual. Each undead within sight must roll against this total or flee for a number of rounds equal to your total.
• Raise Dead: Roll Ritual against a difficulty of 3 per rank of Undead you are trying to raise. If successful, the undead stands up and is Helpful to you until it dies or the Ritual wears off - The Ritual lasts for a number of rounds equal to your total. At the end of the Ritual, you suffer a number of fatigue equal to the rank of Undead you raised.

The Serpent

• One-Handed, Archery
• Attacks using this Cliché inflict 1 round of Paralysis.

The Shadow

• Sneak, Illusion.
• Roll Shadow. You may become Invisible for a number of rounds equal to your total. When the invisibility ends, you suffer fatigue equal to your total ranks in Shadow.

The Steed

• Wearing Armor does not affect your speed. You may Dodge in Heavy Armor.

The Thief

• Archery, Lockpick, Pickpocket, Security, Sneak.

The Tower

• Security
• Those born under the sign of the Tower may unlock any lock with a touch; but suffer 1 Fatigue per level of the lock.

The Warrior

• One-Handed, Block, Two-Handed, Unarmed, Heavy Armor, Light Armor.

_DESCRIPTION_

The final Cliché, and the first one listed in the Character Slug, is a description of the character - an adjective that describes the character's chief reputation. It can be something like "mighty", "fearless", "fearsome", "cowardly", "apathetic", "pious", "devout", "mystical", "loathsome", etc... Just about any fantasy-appropriate adjective you can think of (subject, of course, to the whims of the GM).

The Description Cliché cannot be used as an "inappropriate Cliché." In other words, if your description is "Mighty," you cannot use it to pick a lock (unless your bashing down the door), or to sweet-talk that comely lass down at the King and Queen Tavern.

Elder Scroll: Risus - Character Creation 1 (Introduction)

I'm working on a Risus conversion of Elder Scrolls in my free time. It's a little more rules-heavy than is typical for Risus, and I'm nowhere near finished; but here's where I'm at so far:

A character in Elder Scrolls: Risus is a series of clichés found in the following format:

[Name], the [Description] [Race] [Occupation], born under the sign of [Birthsign].

When creating a character, the player may spend 10 dice among the four clichés, description, race, occupation, and birthsign. No starting character can begin play with more than 4 dice in any one cliché.

Each cliché (other than Description) has a skill set associated with it. Clichés rolled for tasks not governed by their skill sets suffer a -1d "inappropriate cliché" penalty.

Any character whose skill sets include Alteration, Conjuration, Destruction, Illusion, or Restoration, may choose one spell from each school and record it in his known spells list. Magic using characters cannot know spells of a higher rank than the highest ranked cliché that grants them access to that school of magic; but may begin play with one spell for each iteration of a particular school.

Characters with Enchantment or Alchemy in their skill sets, may begin play with one Recipe for each time the skill appears.

Each Race cliché begins with a few spoken languages. Record these on the character sheet.

Every character begins play with one two-handed weapon or two one-handed weapons, one suit of armor, robes, or clothes, and one potion. Roll 10d6 to determine the character's starting gold.

I Hate Mondays...

...But I Went for a Walk Today.

Since giant, sweeping movements to affect change in my life don't seem to be doing the trick; I decided to start slower.  Today I went for a walk downtown, just because I never get out of the house (for no reason), and because laying around my room watching YouTube and looking at porn just gets old after awhile.

So I decided to take a trip downtown.  It's really nice out - kind of breezy in the wake of the Frankenstorm (sic), so I threw on a jacket and plugged in my headphones and off I went.

View of the Castillo de San Marco from the Bridge of Lions.

A wiseguy pigeon and some boats.

It was nice... if a little lonely.  I jammed out to a bunch of goofy music, Tim Minchin, Garfunkel & Oats, Weird Al - stuff like that.  On Saint George Street, I stopped into the little Taco Shop across from Pizzalley's (sp?) and next door to the Tavern.  I had a Baja UFO with Black Beans & Rice instead of meat.  It was fucking awe inspiring.  I drank a Negra Modelo.  Never had one of those.  It was pretty good, actually - almost as good sober as it was the last time I ate there.

Then I walked back.  My phone crapped out in the middle of taking this great pic of the Bridge of Lions.  Made me sad.  I also wanted to take a pic of one of the Lions, so I could post it on /r/DoctorWho with the caption "blink now."  Disappointed in my inability to do that.

Ah well... C'est la vie.

I've some gaming stuff I've been working on, some art and a couple stories I've been hoarding.  I'ma post 'em up here pretty soon I think.  Should be fun.  That all.

This is kind of a boring post.  I don't know what to add to it to make it better.  Maybe some emoticon porn?

:o <==3
:o<==3
:c==3
:(=3
:(3
:3 (yes... that's what I picture every time I see that stupid emoticon.

The Tavern at the Center of the Universe

    For me, I suppose, the big trouble started at the Dragon of the Black Pool Restaurant in San Francisco, Chinatown.  Something bad had gone down at the Wing Kong Exchange - explosions and death and various hell dimensions and minor gods leaking all over our preferred Realm of Occupancy.

    My name is Wu, by the way.  Wu Tian Fu.  I am an Auditor for the CELESTIAL BUREAUCRACY.  Basically, it’s my duty to interview witnesses, monitor fallout, ensure the “proper” authorities remain ignorant of what’s really going on in the worlds around them, and clip any stray threads that may unravel when the Earth quakes and the poison arrows fall from the sky and the pillars of Heaven shake.

    I was in the Dragon of the Black Pool to take a deposition from one of the many witnesses to the Wing Kong Exchange Incident; a nice enough fellow and a warrior of the light named Wang Chi.  As we finished our interview, I packed my few belongings and started for the door when the conversation behind me took a turn and made my blood run cold.

   A white American with red hair and a full and manly beard said, “Gracie and the triplets will meet us at someplace called the Drunken Goat out by the airport.”  I know that bar.

    Why do I know that bar?  It’s a tavern.

    I’ve never been there; but I was always going there, wasn’t I?

    I knew, of course, that the Drunken Goat was where it would all begin.

    I whirled on the others, drawing my sword, Xiinzhijian, the Sword of the Wise Heart from its Otherspace beneath my suit coat, then immediately put it away again, when I realized how foolish I must’ve looked drawing A Most Ancient and Holy Blade against a handful of mortals - one of whom had just helped rid the world of the deprivations of the Arch-Fiend Lo Pan.

    I couldn’t explain to you why I was so frustrated - it seemed as though the Gods were mocking me.  I knew there was to be adventure, Fortune and perhaps even Glory (the life of an Auditor for the CELESTIAL BUREAUCRACY is a cursed life that is never boring or dull); but why must my destiny’s path lead me to the Drunken Goat?  If I’d previously known such a place existed in the world of men in the 20th-Century, I’d have taken steps to ensure I never step foot in there again.

    What did I mean, “again?”  This was all very confusing.  Tiresome

    Wang Chi must have read the consternation on my face.  “Sheng Wu,” he said, “is there something wrong?”

    “I do not know, Wang Chi,” I told him.  “I suspect that I must travel to this Drunken Goat, where I will find a wizard of some sort, a professional thief, a woman of mystery, a doctor or priest of some kind, and a wild-card; most likely an over-powered killing machine with few social skills and a complete lack of subtlety.”  Wang and the others stared at me, slack-jawed.

    “Is this a prophecy?”

    “No,” I said.  “It feels more akin to a tired, but recurring dream.  I imagine that a misunderstanding in the tavern will lead to violence and the uncovering of some malevolent entity’s plot to either destroy or take over the world.”

    “Of course!”  Wang Chi looked half-worried, half-certain.  “Let me rally the Chang Sing and we’ll crush whatever this evil is that threatens the world!”  He ended with his fist clenched between us - a sign of strength, solidarity and determination.

   From behind him, I heard the tall asian, Eddie moan, “not again.”

    “No, Wang Chi,” I said sadly, placing my hand on his fist and lowering it.  “When I [MADE THIS CHARACTER THERE WEREN’T ENOUGH POINTS FOR ME TO GET A PLUCKY ASIAN SIDE-KICK OR AN ARMY OF MINIONS]; I’m afraid I’ll have to go alone.”

    Wang stared at me, his brows crumpled together on his forehead.  “I might have understood a half-dozen words of that.”

   “I apologize,” I said.  “I must have been speaking the Celestial Tongue of the Dragons.  There are no words in the tongues of men, but suffice it to say that I must ask you to contact your friends and arrange to meet them somewhere other than the Drunken Goat.  I fear that establishment will not be safe tonight.”

    Summoning all the power granted to me by the CELESTIAL BUREAUCRACY, I teleported myself outside, and onto the Ducati [PLENTY OF POINTS FOR STYLE, THO].  Releasing Xiinzhijian, the Sword of the Wise Heart, from the Otherspace, I placed her in the scabbard behind the motorcycle’s seat cushion.

    Keying the ignition, I tore out of Chinatown like a bat out of the Hell of Being Turned to Rubber and Attached to an Elastic String.

*

I parked the Ducati in the street and slid Xiinzhijian, the Sword of the Wise Heart back into the  Otherspace.  The Drunken Goat took up one half of the building, with an old Schwinn Bike Shop in the other.  As I approached the door, it swung open - the doorway filled with an obese Japanese man.

    “Kendan,” I said curtly, without fully understanding why I knew the name.

    “An daemonic salaryman with a magic sword and an Italian superbike.”  He shook his head.  “Alright then,” he said.  “The others are upstairs.  Grey door behind the bar.”  The fat man stepped out of way and I entered the tavern.

    This was the first time I’d ever come into this place - just a few minutes ago, the first I’d laid eyes on it; but something was wrong here.  I turned back to Kendan and cocked an eyebrow.  “The threshold,” I said.  “There’s something wrong... It felt like -”

    “It felt like passing the dimensional veil,” he said, narrowing his eyes at me.  “This is the first time you’ve been through as an extra-dimensional creature - your limited experience with the omniverse has allowed you to sense the shift.”

   “Omniverse?”

    “Your heavens and worlds and paths in between.”

    I nodded.  “Hm.  Upstairs, then?”

   He motioned his big ham-hand toward the bar.  “The others are waiting.”

---

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[EXCERPT FROM THE JOURNAL OF TRAGAN MAGEHAMMER (Translated from the Dwarvish)]
11TH THIRDIS, 1287 - THE YEAR OF THE FALLEN KING

OF COURSE I SHOULD HAVE EXPECTED NO BETTER FROM THE CITY GUARD.  NO.  THAT IS UNFAIR.  I SHOULD HAVE EXPECTED, SOONER OR LATER, TO FIND MYSELF ON THE WRONG END OF thE IMPERIAL LAW.  MAGIC IS OUTLAWED, AND I HAVEN’T EXACTLY BEEN CAREFUL IN MY SEARCH FOR ARCANE LORE.

MY FATHER ASKED ME TO MEET THE ELDEST DAUGHTER OF THE IRONSHIELD CLAN, SO I TOOK HER TO THE DRUNKEN GOAT, A TAVERN BY THE DOCKS.  NOT THE CLASSIEST PLACE IN ARANTHUS; BUT GUNLÖDA AGREED THAT THE MEAD OFFERED AT KENDAN’S BAR IS FAR SUPERIOR TO WHAT YOU COULD FIND AT THE WASTED OGRE OR THE FILTHY UNICORN.

I THOUGHT THINGS WERE GOING WELL.  BOTH GUNLÖDA AND i WERE APPREHENSIVE ABOUT OUR CLANS GROWING OPINIONS THAT WE SHOULD BE WED IN AN EFFORT TO UNITE THE FAMILIES; BUT SHE WAS JOVIAL ENOUGH, AND EASY TO LOOK AT.  THERE WAS EVEN A FINE LAYER OF BLONDE FUR ON HER CHIN AND JAWLINE - NOT QUITE THE BEARD A DWARVEN LASS OF OLD MIGHT SPORT, BUT SEXY NONETHELESS..  i WAS JUST SETTLING IN TO THE POSSIBILITY OF REALLY LIKING HER WHEN A HALF-ELF BY THE ENTRANCE CRIED OUT AS SHE DIED ON THE END OF A PIKE.

“IMPERIAL MAGE-HUNTERS,” SOMEONE SHOUTED AS THE BLUE AND SILVER CLAD MAGEHOUNDS BURST INTO THE TAVERN.  TO MY LEFT, A HAIR-FOOTED HOBBIT DROPPED TO THE FLOOR AND ROLLED UNDER THE LEGS OF THE SERVING WENCH QARLA, KNOCKING HER TO THE FLOOR AND ALL BUT DISAPPEARING INTO THE SHADOWS UNDER THE BAR. 

BY THE DOOR, ANOTHER PATRON WAS KILLED - GUTTED AT THE END OF AN EXQUISITELY CRAFTED SILVER SWORD.  “NO ONE LEAVES ALIVE,” THE MAGEHOUND CAPTAIN - HE MUST’VE BEEN THE CAPTAIN - BELLOWED.  MORE DRUNKEN PATRONS FELL TO THE BLADES OF HIS COMRADES.

TAKING GUNLÖDA’S HAND, I PULLED HER BELOW OUR TABLE.  TO MY RIGHT, ANOTHER WAS OVERTURNED, THE HUMAN WHO’D THROWN IT WAS SNARLING AND GROWLING, CLAWING AT HIS CLOTHES AND BEATING HIS CHEST IN RAGE - A BERSERKER OF SOME KIND.  CRAP.

“GUNLÖDA,” i SAID, FRANTICALLY DRAWING COMPONENTS FROM THE POUCH AT MY BELT, “i’M SORRY TO HAVE TO TELL YOU THIS, BUT MAGEHAMMER ISN’T JUST A CLAN NAME.”  sHE JUST STARED AT ME, NEITHER ANGRY NOR SCARED.  “I’M A WIZARD.”

    “THEN DO SOMETHING,” SHE SAID, SHOVING ME OUT FROM BENEATH THE TABLE.

    WITH MY SPELLHAMMER IN ONE HAND AND A PINCH OF POWDERED SALAMANDER SCALE IN THE OTHER, I TOOK A QUICK INVENTORY OF THE ROOM.  A HALF-DOZEN PATRONS WERE DEAD AT THE FOOT OF TWICE AS MANY OF THE EMPEROR’S WIZARD HUNTERS.  THE “BERSERKER” TO MY RIGHT WAS GONE, REPLACED BY A MASSIVE, MUSCLE-BOUND WOLF-MAN WHO FLEW ACROSS THE ROOM IN A BLUR OF BLOOD AND FUR.  IT TORE THE THROAT FROM THE NEAREST MAGEHOUND AND WAS ALREADY ONTO THE NEXT BEFORE I COULD DECIDE IF HIS VICTIM HAD BEEN HUMAN OR ELF.

    A RAVEN-HAIRED ELVEN GIRL HAD SLINKED UP BEHIND ONE OF THE SOLDIERS AND WRAPPED HER ARMS AROUND HIS CHEST.  HE SEEMED TORN BETWEEN WANTING TO TEAR FREE AND NEEDING TO BE SEDUCED.  SHE SUNK HER TEETH INTO HIS NECK AND DRAGGED HIM TO THE FLOOR.  DOUBLE CRAP.

    A GOLDEN-SKINNED ELF NEAR THE BAR, WITH A FLOURISH OF HIS ROBE AND CAPE, LAUNCHED A SMALL BARRAGE OF MAGIC-MISSILES AT OUR COMMON FOE, PELTING THE ONLY DWARVEN MAGEHOUND IN THE ENERGIES OF HIS WILL.  I CHOSE MY TARGET AND SPOKE THE INCANTATION TO FOLLOW THE ELF’S MISSILES WITH MY OWN FIERY ASSAULT.

    ANOTHER MAGEHOUND DROPPED TO THE FLOOR, I BARELY GLIMPSED THE HOBBIT AS HE DUCKED BACK INTO THE SHADOWS, GRINNING EVILLY.  BESIDE THE NEWLY FALLEN SOLDIER, A YOUNG HUMAN GIRL WAS PRAYING OVER THE FALLEN PATRONS, BESEECHING HER GOD FOR HEALING GRACE.

    IN LESS THAN THE SPACE OF A DOZEN BREATHS THE MAGEHOUNDS WERE ALL DEAD OR INCAPACITATED; BUT THE ALARM WAS RAISED OUTSIDE, AND MORE SOLDIERS WERE SURELY ON THEIR WAY.

    “WIZARDS!”  KENDAN, THE BARKEEPER CRIED, “LET IT NEVER BE SAID THAT THE DRUNKEN GOAT WAS AN ENEMY OF LEARNED MEN!  OVER HERE!”  HE KNELT DOWN BESIDE HIS BAR, HOLDING OPEN A TRAPDOOR.  THE WOLF WAS THROUGH IT IN THE SPAN OF A HEARTBEAT.  “IT LEADS TO THE SEWERS,” HE SAID AS THE WOLF SPLASHED DOWN BELOW, “FOLLOW THE FLOW OF FILTH AND WATER UNTIL THE SUPPORT STRUCTURE TURNS FROM STONE TO WOOD.  COUNT FOUR WOODEN STRUTS AND YOU’LL FIND A SECRET PASSAGE WHICH LEADS TO A CLEARING IN THE FOREST OF THE ALFATHER.”

    THE ELF AND THE HALFLING DROPPED DOWN THROUGH THE FLOOR.  THE VAMPIRE WAS STILL FEASTING.  GUNLÖDA AND I APPROACHED THE DROP.

    KENDAN SAID, “BEST OF LUCK, FRIEND.”  i NODDED AND LEAPT DOWN, MY BOOTS SPLASHING IN FILTH.  I REACHED UP TO AID MY DATE’S DESCENT, AND THEN WE WERE OFF.  BY THE TIME WE REACHED THE HIDDEN DOOR, THE VAMPIRE HAD CAUGHT UP TO US.  AFTER A SHORT DISCUSSION, WE ALL AGREED THAT KENDAN’S TUNNEL TO ALFATHER FOREST WAS OUR BEST BET AND WE STARTED DOWN THE LONG PASSAGE TOWARD...



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[PEOPLE’S EXHIBIT 17B - THE PRIVATE DIARIES OF SIMON WEESE, AKA THE ENDER (excerpt)]

june 16, 2011.  the people of this diskusting city never sease to amaze me with their continued inability to raise above the filth  instead they just wallow in it turning the brite shining hope of mans future into just so much more shit dripping out of the sewers of reality tv  considering joining a supergrup  today is the six anniversary of when the bitch left me for that superfreak neanderthul  still the best thing that could ever have happened to the hunt  worrying about the cares and wants of some telemagic bimbo was cereally getting in the way of my dudy  ending the apathy and depretation that ruins this rotten hulk of a once beutiful town  on my rounds through little tokyo, i found myself standing outside a japanese bar Yopparai Yagi  huh  my japanese is terrible but the words drunken goat i recognize in a heartbeat  its like dejavu  casting a sarcastic eye to god i walked in  a fucking yakuza bar  graet  the bartender was a fat old man named ken dan  he poured me a saki and watched eagerry as i lifted the mask to swallow it  he made some sort of bullshit coment that i was a man after all and then all the sound faded out of the world andthe shadows at the end of the bar grew and stretched out turning halve the place into blackest void  fuckin supers  one of the yakuza was standing in front of the shadow pulling knives out of the tattoos on his stomach  the italien man seated by the window stood up and got between the angry yakuza and the server  get behind me carla he said  he began chanting in some mystikal jiberish  a mage  thats just fantastic  another yakuza was removing his hoodie  big snakes were uncoiling from the ink wrapped around his chest and arms  one of the snakes tho whirled around and struck at the dark behind him  a third yakuza was knocked on his ass by a familiar black and red blur  i worked with swift once  good in a fight but that klepto streak of his is going to put us at odd ends of a beatdown someday  knife boy threws his blades at me and was immediately yanked into the shadow  i thought i caught the glimpse of a girl but i was too busy dodging to be certain  i was also too slow too  three small throwing knives sunk themselves into my gut my leg my groin  i fell to the ground in a heap  she was white  living light  the complete opposite of the vague shadow woman from which she emerged  the magician behind me had sumoned doberman sized honeybadgers to deal with the snakes and was now holding their master in some sort of magick cage  swift was punching and kicking a fourth yakuza and the glowing light girl was pulling a knife out of my crotch  the wounds healing almost instantly in the mystik light of her naked form  she was really pretty  i must really miss the bitch  i dont know why im talking like that  when it was over i found out that the magician was mystico the marvelous master of magic  the girls are twins shadoe and lyte  swift introduced me to their leader deus excelsior some cosmic entity that fancies itself the god of superheroes  hrm  i usually work alone but i could do a lot with their kind of firepower at my disposal

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A long time ago, in a galaxy far away...

I have no idea, why we need another slicer.  Sitting in an out-of-the-way cantina on Sleheyron with a cup of jawa juice in my hand, waiting for the damn Jedi to make a deal I still think is pointless, I’m forced to wonder again why I travel with these dumb nerfs.

The Anzat beside me had her eyes closed, sunk back into her voluminous cloak, she seemed to be meditating, or - more likely - daydreaming about her next meal.  The almost imperceptible tentacles in her cheeks twitched slightly.

The frakking Mon Cal doctor on my other side was still trying to comb tangles out of the fur at my elbow.  I turned and growled at him to cut it the hell out.  He jumped in his seat and apologized, getting the jist of what I’d said, even without speaking Shyriiwook.  The Anzat chuckled but didn’t stir.

Without warning, there was a shout of anger from over by the bar, a war droid I’d mistaken for derelict stood from its corner by the door and started firing its blaster arm at a man standing behind Hoon.  The slicer swept a leg out beneath another man who fell to the ground without one of his arms.  I didn’t even see Hoon ignite his lightsaber.

The big man behind the bar was shouting at the slicer.  “Here now,” he said.  “I told you that droid was alright so long as it didn’t hurt nobody!”  The droid, however, was already striding out through the front entrance.  Hoon and the new slicer were walking over to our table.

“We’d best leave, I think,” the Jedi said.  “This is our new slicer, Feen.  He’s got a pretty useful old wardroid too.”

Still unimpressed, I growled at Hoon, “he’s a Squib.”

“He speaks Wookiee,” the Squib said, “and he’s already in a bit of trouble with the Hutts, so the sooner we’re off-world the better.”

“Here now,” the big man from behind the bar said, walking up behind Hoon and Feen.  “My name’s Kendan; and I’ve a little business proposition for a couple of hard cases like yourselves.”

Everyone groaned, but no one really understood why.  We had a crappy plan, but we really did need some real work.

“Kendan,” I said, “what the hell is the name of this Cantina?”

The fat man brought himself up to his full height and adjusted his waistband. “Toagnek Nurd,” he said.  “A nurd is a small, horned nerf-like critter from Haasan VI.”

“Toagnek?”

“Haasani for ‘drunken.’”

“We need to get out of here,” the Anzat said.  Her eyes were still closed, though; as if she knew we weren’t going anywhere. 

---

* * *

---

We were in the Drunken Goat in Fallcrest, trying to figure out the best way to turn our talents into fortunes, when this asinine half-orc reached out and grabbed Kinda.  Apparently she was helping him lighten his pockets when he reached for some silver to pay his tab.  There was a bar fight.  Mayark put everyone to sleep with a quick spell, and we decided we’d best high out of town... maybe take a look for those kobold brigands we gave the slip to outside the gates

We beat feet out the west gate and made our way toward that old run-down building we’d seen on the way in.  If it wasn’t the kobold’s hideout, it’d probably be a good camping spot if we had to spend the night in the wilds.

   On the road west we ran afoul of...

Aamaw Olvar, Ithorian Senator

Iolun Vel - Jedi Youngling (WIP)

Reflections 01: The Woman is a Virus

How does this read to you?  It's the first episode of a web series I'd really like to see made.  Feel free to be brutal.  I really want to do this, and if the letters suck, the show will suck, so I need to know what to change.

REFLECTION - EPISODE 01: THE WOMAN IS A VIRUS

FADE IN

INT. COMPUTER LAB / WORKSHOP

Camera explores the detritus of the shop.  WILLIAM GIBSON DECKER is working hard on something technical.  Parts are strewn all about the bench.

DECKER (VOICE-OVER)

I don't really understand people.

A doorbell sounds in the background.  Decker doesn't react.

DECKER (VOICE-OVER)

Too messy, too unpredictable.  With people,

you put in data - time, effort, direction - and 

you have no clue how they're going to react.

The doorbell sounds again, ringing three or four times, impatiently.  Decker continues to work.

DECKER (VOICE-OVER)

Take this jerk.  I tell everyone I know not to

bother me in my workshop.  "Don't bug me

in my workshop," I tell them.  There's a sign

on the door.  It says, "Go away, we don't 

fucking want any."

Doorbell sounds again, twice.

DECKER (VOICE-OVER RISING TO DIALOG)

Seems like a simple command.  But with people, you

lock yourself away with your work and some asshole

won't stop RINGING THE FUCKING DOOR-

BELL!

Silence.  Decker listens.  For a moment, there is nothing.  He returns to his work.

WOMAN'S VOICE (THROUGH DOOR)

William?

Decker winces.

DECKER

Women.  Women are worse than people.  At 

least with some guy you can be reasonably sure

he won't start crying at you or telling you, you

don't listen.  One day, you're having a nice chat,

and then BLAM! out of nowhere, here come the

wet-works and a fourteen-hundred dollar

peripheral flying at your head.

Decker gets up from his bench and opens the door.  Standing on his stoop is an attractive girl in last-night's waitress uniform.  This is MARLENE "MARLI" BARA.  She's been crying.

MARLI

He's gone.

DECKER

Uh... Who's gone?  Wait.  Marli?  What are you

doing here?  Go away; I'm working.

Marli pushes her way past Decker, into his lab.  She dislikes this room.

MARLI

Christian, my boyfriend, is missing.  He was

supposed to pick me up from work last night,

and he never showed up.  I took a taxi home.

He isn't returning my texts or answering his

phone.

As she speaks, Marli fiddles with some piece(s) of tech from Decker's shelves.

DECKER

Maybe he's drunk.

MARLI

No.  He's missing, I know it.  We have to

go to the police.

Decker takes something out of Marli's hands and puts it down, then leads her to the door.

DECKER

That's a good idea.  Why don't you go to the

police and let them deal with it.  Why are you 

even here?

MARLI

I can't go alone.  You had that thing that one

time.  You know how to talk to the police.

DECKER

That thing.  You mean when your boyfriend 

and his minions broke in here and stole 

thousands of dollars worth of computer equip-

ment?  And the police couldn't make a case

because of half of what they took was my

surveillance gear?

MARLI

He doesn't have minions.

DECKER

Sure he does.  Four of them.  Rich, privileged

frat-boys.  You know them.  You gave them an

alibi.  I lost everything.

MARLI

I wasn't the only one.  And they didn't take

your stuff.  We were all at the Crash House

playing beer pong - celebrating Brett's pro-

motion.  Come on, that was forever ago, I 

really need your help.

Marli collapses in Decker's arms.  He holds her, unhappy; but he melts a little.

DECKER (VOICE-OVER)

She came here because she knows I can't

say no to her.  It doesn't matter if she screws

me over a hundred times, I have to go with

her.  She needs my help.  She needs me.  How

can I turn that down.  Dammit.

Decker holds her at arms length and looks at her a moment; but then puts on his jacket.  Then turns to his workbench and retrieves a bulky smart-phone and starts to put it in his breast pocket.

MARLI

Is that an iPhone?

DECKER

(Laughs)  You know, there's more computing power

in your average smart-phone than was on

the early shuttle missions.  This?  This little

baby could tell you how to build a ship that

would take you to Mars.  Then you could

use it to fly the thing.  You'd be dead from

radiation exposure before you got half-way;

but it would get you there.

As he speaks, Decker places a metal and plastic device around the back of his neck.  It has two wires which he plugs into jacks hidden beneath his hair.

MARLI (KIND OF DISGUSTED)

What are you doing?

DECKER

I installed a few highly sensitive electrodes in my

head that let me interface remotely with my

mobile.  This picks up the signal from those 

electrodes and then connects with the glasses

and the phone.

He puts on the glasses - somewhat bulky, mirrored shades.

MARLI

You are not wearing those in public.

DECKER

Hell I'm not.  These are my lifeline.  They

figured out a way to use contact lenses; but

they can't do a full color spectrum yet; and I

don't have the equipment to make them re-

ceive the carrier signal.

What?  Okay, here.  Put them on.  Don't

worry, they're not going to do anything.  Hang

on.  It's not easy to do this without looking.

DISPLAY (IN THE GLASSES, MARLI'S VIEW): Facebook comes up in a simplified Smart-Phone App window. 

"Marli@Augnet.org" types itself into the email

 window then "*********" in the password.

Marli's page pops up.

MARLI

Hey! It's my Facebook page.  Wait.

What are you doing?

DISPLAY (NOW OVERLAID ON SCENE):

Marli's Status Update: I've been a real shit

to Decker, and I really should start treating

him better.

MARLI

How are you doing that?

DECKER

Your password sucks.  Get a better one.

Here.  This is what they're really for.

Decker wipes the Facebook window away.

DISPLAY: DECKERSPHERE (Laid out like any generic search engine).

Search: William G. Decker. Go. Results:

[List of Results]

DECKER

Anytime I meet someone, if they have any

kind of internet presence, I'll know about

it.

MARLI (FIDGITING WITH GLASSES)

Okay, that's kind of cool; but do they have

to look so stupid?

Decker flips her the finger and takes the glasses from her.  Camera wipe to black as he does so (as though we're seeing scene through the lenses).

INT. MARLI'S CAR, DRIVING.

As they drive, the Display shows a GPS Map.

MARLI

Did you say you put wires in your brain?

DECKER

That's putting it pretty simply; but yeah - 

basically.

MARLI

But why?

DECKER

An experiment.  The tech is based on work

done at Brown University, with quadriplegics.

I improved on the basic design.  It's how I 

run the computer without taking it out of my

pocket.

Marli looks worriedly at Decker, then turns the car into the police station parking lot.

MARLI

You are weird.  We're here.

The duo exit the car and walk into the Police Station.

INT. POLICE STATION

Alone and bored, POLICE OFFICER FREEMAN sits at a desk reading a magazine.  He puts the magazine down and sits up when Decker and Marli enter.

FREEMAN

How can I help you today?  Wait, you're William

Decker, right?

DECKER

Yeah.  And you are (reading badge) Officer

Freeman?

DISPLAY: As he says it, SAPD Freeman appears in the search bar.  Results:

* Local law enforcement officer receives state's

highest honor.

*Decorated Officer charged in beating.

*Police Brutality Down Home. Ken Freeman:

"Actions appropriate to circumstance."

*Local police support neighborhood baseball.

*Record Abroad "Sexy Model Adrenne Freeman

likes Harry Potter."

DECKER

And this is Marlene Bara.  She's here to file

a missing person's report.

Freeman perks up.

FREEMAN

That sounds serious.  Sit down, then. Tell

me about who's missing.

FADE OUT.