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File 127365619567.png - (81.85KB , 800x1209 , Intimidation Failed.png )
3693 No. 3693 ID: f04685

Got a cool RPG Campaign you're in? Drawn something for it? Got stories to share about it? Post 'em in here! Doesn't matter if it's still goin' or not. Let's post some arts!
Expand all images
No. 3699 ID: 288dda
File 127375415669.png - (53.12KB , 375x579 , overlyfamilarfamiliar.png )

Newly arrived on a strange new world, our Umbral spellcaster finds his new familiar...
No. 3724 ID: 0fc814

>Intimidation Failed.png
I dunno. I think I'd be pretty intimidated.
No. 3727 ID: 288dda
File 127432504475.jpg - (63.69KB , 500x500 , asixcasts.jpg )

I like to draw. Poorly.
Also, these are all TOTALLY CANON don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
No. 3747 ID: 10c20a
File 127441148168.jpg - (198.29KB , 769x1000 , DWARFAPEDE.jpg )

the back of my Warcraft 3.5 RPG Dwarf's character sheet
No. 3750 ID: 288dda
File 127442511143.png - (138.72KB , 500x525 , sauzerbrainstorm.png )

This happened last session.
No one is quite sure why.
No. 3752 ID: ad2a2f

We have /draw/, you know...
No. 3754 ID: 8bdb6a

So, wait a second, you played in an actual campaign with sergals?
No. 3758 ID: 710b93

Southern Sergal rogue, Cutebold Casanova sorceror, grumpy oracle of battle ratbold with a gym teacher healer's philosophy, paranoid PTSD cyral, umbral witch, subtle letcher gnoll alchemist, sauzer fighter dude sharing innocent personality with aforementioned umbral. And more are joining.
No. 3759 ID: 620bfb

...more are joining? When do you guys play? It'd be neat to at least spec.
No. 3761 ID: 242766

Campaign reports pretty please?
No. 3762 ID: f95872

Yeah, this.
No. 3763 ID: 7630d5

Good lord I laughed so hard.
No. 3778 ID: 0a2dea


Session archives.
No. 3904 ID: 6f3bc8
File 127582261612.png - (56.05KB , 347x587 , Scarlett.png )

Different group, different system.
Terribly fun to think up justifications for generated maids. Be they actual maids in fluff or not.

Meet Scarlett Blanche. She's a Boyish sort with a bit of a sexy side. When this wild west woman was young, she had the misfortune of having her parents shot in front of her. The same incident cost her one of her eyes. She has since grown up, intent on resolving some 'business' she has with the ones responsible. The incident haunts her, resulting in her constant bad expression, deeply ingrained into her weathered face. Years of smoking have started to take their toll on her, giving a sickly smoker's cough. Don't think that you can get away with something just because she's down an eye. Chances are, that intense glare of her remaining gray eye Saw It all. She carries a broom with her, modified for giving a single shot surprise upon sneaking close enough to her latest target.

So far, she's only been in a one-shot, but she's one of my more favorite maids. Possibly because she's a bit of a bitch. Takes no lip from anyone, just as a proper wild west woman should act. Terribly fun to play as.
No. 3905 ID: 1ac39d

and then master teaches her to love again. ;D
No. 3907 ID: 6f3bc8

If only. Guy that ran it has been pestered about revisiting the setting, but seems like it's not about to happen anytime soon. Ah well. I'll just have to keep an eye open for another wild west setting to migrate her to. Same system or different system.
No. 3933 ID: 7630d5
File 127622753022.png - (322.04KB , 1996x3155 , NedREALISM.png )

I blame Rosque.
No. 4090 ID: 7647bf
File 128016454165.png - (89.77KB , 800x2415 , Goddammit.png )

Damn those 'tribal traditions'.
No. 4103 ID: 9cb4b3
File 128034147124.png - (152.25KB , 1000x1000 , Ler Unt\'ild.png )

This is a picture I did for the Cutebold Slaughterfest game I'm in.

Slowpoke is DMing, our party is

Bitequest - Captain Dooberfield (Doobie Land Pirate)
Clockwork Seal - Ramblimus/Rambold (Cutebold Commando)
Numbers - (Sergal Medic)
Lucid Dakou - Quolarn (Mok Driver)
Me - Ler Unt'ild (Lorhke Heavy Weapons Guy)
Gnoll - Some other Cutebold

I'm sure they'll post the pictures they did for it. This is my heavy weapons lorhke currently not using a heavy weapon because heavy weapons are expensive. Also, in his day-gear because lorhke, sun, etc.

And yes, he looks like a STALKER Lorhke wielding a gauss rifle from Fallout 2, because that's basically what he currently is.

Our first session was last thursday, in it we saw some sergal bikers coming down the road so we all hid to wait in ambush.

That is, except for Dooberfield, who stood on the side of a road using a ship's hull door as a shield and swinging around a cannonball in a giant sling.

They tried to fire a shot at Dooberfield so we all opened fire and they eventually all flipped their bikes at high speed and became sloppy joes all over the pavement, where Numbers's sergal ran over to try to perform CPR in an effort to save his sergal brethren that were more or less in twenty pieces each.

That's about it so far, really.
No. 4104 ID: 10c20a
File 12803417577.jpg - (57.70KB , 800x600 , Quolarn.jpg )

alright, if you insist. Here's Quolarn, the mercenary Mok trucker, already in the campaign with 1 and a half kills on his belt (after stealing the kill from Gnoll by flipping the bike with a side car containing the Sergal he had shot and failed to finish off thanks to one extremely lucky rifle shot.
No. 4105 ID: 8c0848
File 128035369621.png - (154.43KB , 657x708 , Snaviblimus.png )

This is Snaviblimus, the deserter kobold soldier. He actually drew first blood in the campaign, blowing a sergal biker's chest open at long range.
No. 4106 ID: bf1e7e
File 12803557864.png - (212.02KB , 768x768 , Ramblimus.png )

Ramblimus hid under a bridge
No. 4107 ID: 8e18cd
File 128035781741.png - (329.52KB , 750x1000 , SergaMedic.png )

Bayar is a Northern Sergal medic that joined the army to fight with the Cutebold menace. He's quite lucky, being the only survivor of his squad. His squadmates met their demise as the intelligence data was completely wrong and the mission resulted in slaughter. Right now he's trying for find some Sergal unit to join.
No. 4111 ID: 283fa9

There is a CSF game going on? D:

How come I never hear of these things until way after they start?
No. 4112 ID: fd6c77
File 128045094157.png - (527.71KB , 993x1378 , 01.png )

doing a comic where I repeat what happens each time my brosephs and I play Meidu RPG. Wednesday was pandemonium. I'll post it here if I can possibly cover everything that happened there before this thread dies (which is unlikely)
No. 4113 ID: fd6c77


wish I set a password to delete posts, 'cause I could easily just start a thread on it on /draw/, huhuehuhue
No. 4115 ID: 997545

rolled 3 = 3

Well done. Have some favor.

But then you wouldn't have gotten that delicious favor. :3
No. 4117 ID: 5a2e05

Oh man, an all-drawfag game would make things so much more awesome than I am used to.
No. 4135 ID: f4963f
File 128089247028.png - (5.92KB , 296x288 , Sonya_Stick.png )

Oh, hey. I guess I can stop posting stuff related to The Vault in the 4e thread and start posting them here. Hooray!
No. 4176 ID: f4963f
File 128172497454.jpg - (1.02MB , 1746x1129 , Full_Nemos_Map_Final.jpg )

So I've mentioned the 4e campaign I play in here, but I don't believe I've ever mentioned the 3.5 campaign I've been running for... oh, a good three years now. I've produced some related arts during that time; I'll open with the big one, an entire world map I made.

If I had to do things over again, I think I would have handled the map much differently - having every major city plopped down on a map, as a PC informed me, does remove a certain sense of exploration. Also, I've learned a bit more about geography since then.

Image is about three years old and was created rather ameteurishly, but here it is.
No. 4177 ID: f4963f
File 128172557781.jpg - (372.17KB , 826x680 , Erimil_Mountain.jpg )

This... is two years old, so like a lot of artists, I kind of wince when seeing it, but it also represents a pivotal moment in the campaign.

The campaign's gone through two major story arcs. The first one involved a crazy elven wizard trying to attain godlike powers and bring back Vecna. This image depicts him, his two minions, and the obligatory hostage/victim heading to the location of an obscure planar gate far in the mountains.
No. 4178 ID: f4963f
File 12817259201.jpg - (164.46KB , 667x500 , Nerufo.jpg )

This was after my return from studying abroad in Germany. The now high-level PCs were infiltrating the slave capital of a massive Hextorian theocracy - in disguise, naturally - to support the resistance movement. I wanted to lay on the atmosphere thick for this part, so I produced a few images. This is one of them, depicting a local town square.
No. 4181 ID: f4963f
File 128172656658.jpg - (212.42KB , 640x709 , Propaganda.jpg )

Another piece of Denizian fluff. The PCs had helped the resistance and the slaves at the city's largest concentration camp strike back, and essentially slaughtered the entire guard population before turning the concentration camp into a defensive structure against the theocracy's army. In the short period of time between their victory and the military backlash, propaganda posters like this one were scattered all over town.
No. 4182 ID: f4963f
File 128172660729.jpg - (195.71KB , 750x600 , Earth_Go_Boom.jpg )

Finally, an image prepared for yesterday's D&D session. The party recently found out that another
elemental gate - like the one the evil elf guy used in the last arc - exists under Deniz' palace, and it's the reason they've been able to conjure up so much extraplanar support. A long-time on-and-off rival of the PCs also found this out, and decided to complete what his last boss - the elf guy - had failed to do.

This gate leads to the elemental plane of earth, hence the cavernous appearance.
No. 4183 ID: f202ec
File 128174676546.png - (283.29KB , 400x1200 , DnD-frigidbitch.png )

This one was a while back. Our 3E D&D campaign was focused around a high-level interdimensional mercenary's guild. Basically an excuse for lots of one-shots in different settings.

So at one point they are hired to slay a dragon that, along with its frost giant allies, has become a menace to the northern shipping lanes. Their employer, an archmage of some renown, also requires its liver as a component for a great work of magic.

In a truly epic battle they storm the giants' fortress, slay the wicked inhabitants, and defeat the fell Frostbite and her half-dragon progeny. They cut out the still-quivering liver and seal it into the enchanted chest provided to them by the archmage for this purpose.

When they return, the magus has a number of visitors in his laboratory. He begins to ask them questions as he unseals the chest. "So you have defeated Frostbite? You are certain it was the right beast? You removed her liver and placed it immediately within the chest? You did nothing more to it?" As he rolls up his sleeves and produces a blackened steel athame, his last question gives at least one of them pause. "...and I have never met any of you before hiring you for this mission, is that correct?"

He then proceeds to saw into the liver with his blade. It's a terrible mess. Dark blood splatters everywhere, and the mage's arms are coated in it. He then shoves an arm into the mangled organ and pulls out... a small piece of parchment?

He turns to the assembled guests, flourishes it with a grin, and asks...

"Is THIS your card?" The Three of Clubs.

Polite applause all around, and another round for his lovely assistants.
No. 4201 ID: 10c20a
File 128226075099.jpg - (234.85KB , 2868x1080 , CureboldSlaughterfest.jpg )

OC doodles that came about as a result of the last session of CBSF
No. 4210 ID: f55a21
File 128319517835.png - (194.77KB , 600x600 , perxasix.png )

This is really, really too in-jokey for me to explain. ENJOY ANYWAY.
No. 4211 ID: abb30a

You have an aversion to explaining in-jokes?
No. 4214 ID: 0b2a05

Maybe I can help. The player of Asix was wondering what his sexuality should be during chargen, alien weirdness and all. The response was "I dunno, roll it?" but then that turned into "roll at the start of every session", and thus, Asix became a promiscuous witch that hits on people one moment and completely rejects them the next.
No. 4217 ID: f202ec
File 128324131952.jpg - (223.85KB , 500x1300 , DnD-dablob.jpg )

My players continually find new ways to surprise me.
Of all the times to attempt diplomacy...
No. 4243 ID: f4963f

(24104) Brella: ( Hello, (BBEG; LE antipaladin). Look at your mount. Now back at mine. Now back at your mount, now back to mine. Sadly, it isn't mine, but if it stopped being weak and grew some wicked claws, it could look like mine. Look down. Back up, where are you? You're on a boat, with the party who will blow you away. What's on the deck? Back to me - I have it. It's a flame strike, with both fire and divine damage. Look again: The flame strike is NOW MAXIMIZED. Anything is possible when you have a druid and a transmutation specialist, I'm on a tiger. )
No. 4754 ID: abb30a
File 128536369011.png - (405.92KB , 480x640 , Rollo.png )

Rollo is the dicebot we use in Timewarp. He has a perverse sense of humor. I was inspired to do this doodly sketch thing during today's game (will I do a version that doesn't suck? Probably not!).
I picture his head as this constantly mutating and rotating shape.
No. 4756 ID: 24e2a9

Shouldn't his faces be all ones? =w=
No. 4757 ID: abb30a

Sometimes he gives the enemy good rolls, or gives us high rolls when they need to be low!
No. 4758 ID: 5a2e05

This is something I've been thinking of lately. Who else here applies personality/characteristics to their dicebots? I remember a while back my DM made ours the in-universe goddess of luck (primarily misfortune).
No. 4760 ID: 2563d4

All Nethack players know the playful wrath of the Random Number God.
No. 4761 ID: f52552

Our versions of FG hate the pants off one player.
By which I mean he whines endlessly whenever he rolls lower than a fifteen and asks for bonuses to balance it out.
Other than that, it likes to throw around runs of threes and sevens on occasion and seems to roll higher if you're doing something epic.
No. 4765 ID: d677cc

He doesn't only give ones; he just tends to average like a 4 on a d20 for the PCs. |3
No. 4771 ID: 0b2a05

But then he couldn't give enemies natural 20's!
No. 4776 ID: abb30a
File 12857162759.png - (15.77KB , 250x193 , Asixes.png )

Here's more Umbral spellcaster. First he had a witch hat, currently replaced by a top hat. I've got some adjustments to make to the second image, but here's what I've got for now!
No. 4841 ID: 1ec237
File 128735991624.jpg - (75.55KB , 406x757 , CuBW_CropLarge_w_mask_blade.jpg )

Dark Heresy

A noir film PI-style Arbites.
A matricidal(successful), patricidal(successful), knife-o-phile moritat assassin with a mono-molecular-edged longsabre.
A 17-y/o techpriestess with 4chan for a brain and an affinity for shotguns.
A 7'6" near-albino feral warrior(guardsman) built like the child of Slender Man and an Olympic decathlete, hailing from the dark, lovecraftian asshole of a planet made from solid nightmares and wielding a massive, hiltless greatsword that has proven itself capable of cutting down sniper towers like a lightsaber in the hands of an overenthusiastic ginsu pitch man.
A batshit insane psyker woman with pale blue skin and hair that flows like on a windy day... even in a vacuum. She has an assault rifle, god help us all.

They are... The D team, and this...

Is Duskwood Hearts.

Theft of alien tech!
Intrigue and wild, hellish shootouts!
Cult conspiracies!
Dark rituals in the night!
Chokeslamming 1-tonne crocosaurs!
Inadvertant genocide!

No. 5133 ID: bec62a
File 128843938856.jpg - (99.00KB , 800x1100 , Knight-Arturius copy.jpg )

Hrm, well, I guess I'll throw my lot in as well.

This is Arturius, a character I made for a campaign in which I also designed the world.

She's the universe's equivalent to a knight and as such is the only one in the party privledge enough to use advanced technology, like Shock Armor, Plasma Cutters and the like (Power armor, plasma sword, etc.)

Other party members include the universe's equivalent to an male elf-rogue who sucks at everything, a cat-girl hunter who hunts giant fucking monsters, a girl who's equivalent to a tech priest and fixes machinery and some crazed zealot dude.

Currently we're escorting a digital humanoid who's considered to be a deity in and of itself to a sacred temple to be repaired.

We encountered a dragon and Arturius was eaten whole, only for her to burst out of its gut thanks to her superhuman strength and endurance.

No. 5137 ID: bf1e7e
File 128857210366.png - (443.29KB , 2000x359 , charportrait.png )

Whee, new game started.

New players makes it slow going, but it's fun.

Here is a group portrait of the characters, though the size comparisons are a bit off.
No. 5139 ID: 36019b

Well huh. A Journey group? Don't suppose we could get any info on the characters, and who's playing them? Campaign stories are fun!
No. 5140 ID: f4963f

>Campaign set in Layridin
I am both in awe and a bit envious. Please tell me more.
No. 5143 ID: 283fa9

New game started?!?! Why was I not informed? D:
No. 5144 ID: 10c20a

from left to right
Kren Rogue- Beakie
Jungle Lazuhrek Rogue- Gnoll
Hatkal Fighter- Bitequest
Mountain Lazuhrek Cleric- GREEN
Tomias Runepriest- ClockworkSeal
Ploverlor Swordmage- one of Seal's and my real life friends who doesn't really come to this board.

It's a D&D 4e game. I went through and made some stats, encounter powers, etc for the various races that would make sense as being playable (pretty much everything except winged and Leviathan Engsami) and am in the process of finishing that word document up (filling out brief information snippets for each race) and planned to post a link to it in the Journey Quest thread or something once it's done.

This was mostly started because my real life D&D group has been having trouble with dwindling members, so one of them suggested asking the people I talk to on Skype if they wanted to try moving a game online, and this was the result. Sorry :<
No. 5146 ID: 283fa9

Ah, I don't really use Skype so... yeah. [Heck, I just logged onto it for the first time since I INSTALLED IT after I read that.] Ah well, maybe next time I'll miss an RPG group being formed. Since that's what I always do. :D
No. 5148 ID: 2563d4

We're not cool enough.
No. 5153 ID: 6c4937

>It's a D&D 4e game. I went through and made some stats, encounter powers, etc for the various races that would make sense as being playable (pretty much everything except winged and Leviathan Engsami) and am in the process of finishing that word document up (filling out brief information snippets for each race) and planned to post a link to it in the Journey Quest thread or something once it's done.
I am really looking forward to this.
No. 5530 ID: fd8412
File 129018507528.jpg - (26.34KB , 540x304 , 1289751604236.jpg )

I suppose this belongs here! I've been running a number of purposely silly 'My little pony' one shot games with whomever is around on #Tgchan at the time. They've been a hit with my players so why not:I'll share what we've done.



GAME LOGS (Players involved listed first)
Log 1: http://pastebin.com/yb2RR7tC
Log 2: http://pastebin.com/NzwdyZWA
Log 3: http://pastebin.com/hHVh6Cc7
No. 5533 ID: 62d071

This is one of the best things ever that happened lately.
No. 5536 ID: ca33c7

I now have incentive to visit #tgchan more often.
No. 5545 ID: f4963f

God, this sounds like the best thing ever.

Why... why do I want to roll up a character?
No. 5552 ID: fd8412
File 129057066665.png - (125.98KB , 467x264 , 1289755872708.png )

Glad you find the idea to be a good one! The players enjoy it at least! Had another game of it today. Not a continuation of game 3 Quite yet.


I'll admit I got a bit lazy with this one. I do have to come up with most of these on the spot so.. I just go with whatever comes to mind first.

Borrowing my villain from elsewhere and putting in a lot of Cartoon Cameos. Heh. The Villain was a hit at least: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ngBNklagsHQ
No. 5553 ID: 25c853
File 129059826573.jpg - (24.15KB , 409x308 , brilliant.jpg )


>My Little Pony game.

>Coily as the villain.
No. 5582 ID: bb52e7

Shit, now I'll actually have to start visiting the IRC again.
No. 5584 ID: 7d596c

I've been working on a story based off an idea of Kobolds in Steam-Tech ages.

Anyone care to read?
No. 5585 ID: 0b2a05

yes why would you even bother asking
No. 5586 ID: 7d596c

I've had the pleasure/misfortune of starting on 4chan.

Hense the hesitation.


The rap-tap-tapping awoke him from his dreamless slumber, which jerked him up from his bed and his pillow, wiped the drool from his mouth, and force him to role up to his feet, with a blink. It was rare to get a visitor, much less one at a late hour as this, when the sun wasn't even up and the stars had hidden themselves - or so a glance out the window told him.
The rap-tap-tapping at the door didn't end lightly, either. No, with a harder thump of fist on wood, and an indignant sound behind it, the lizard was forced to his feet and grumbled to himself while making his way towards the door to unbolt it, pull it open, and stare up at the shaggy mess that glared down at him.
"For'se?" The growling creature asked, a beast of shaggy yellow and brown fur and a bestial muzzle. It stunk to high heavens, and not the sweet musk of scale or dry scent of even a human - no, it was the rich, unwashed odor of beast.
"Mmm?" The lizard asked, eloquently, eyes still a bit bleary, and adjusting slowly to the dark. The lizard was clad only in the tight pants, laced up the front and laced over the groin with a protective codpiece - even a lizard could worry about a low blow. "Can I help you?"
No. 5587 ID: 7d596c

"Are you For'se?"
The lizard gave a nod.
"Good." Yellowed teeth gleamed in the flickering light of half-burned candles. With that, the beast pulled high a once hidden cylinder-gun, and leveled it with the snout of the ornery kobold of dark scale and yellow eye.
The gun roared and sparked, the light blinding to both eye and ear in the stone build room, but the spark, brilliant as the sun in the dark, was enough to throw off a sure aim - and for a slippery lizard to jerk to the side, though lost in a spin with the round sliding across and shattering a small budding horn on the side of his skull. The pain was immense, and sent the small beast reeling from the blow, but it was not a killing blow.
Dancing, stumbling, falling backwards in the dark room, the small dragon-man did well to get clear, as the gun roared again and again, a second, third, fourth shot tracking his movements, but the element of surprise was lost. The lizard ducked down and skipped up onto the bed, and reached beneath his pillow, and whipped a small blade out at his foe - who grunted, the small weapon burying in the lower bicep. Not the cleanest of throws, but enough.
A second blade was in hand, and as quickly as it was lifted, the beasts met, though three hundred pounds separated the two. Lunging in, and attempting to crush the smaller opponent, the shaggy furred gnoll leapt in, bringing both hands down to crush the skull of his scaled foe, only to meet air and a quick slash along his side, opening him up and making breathing difficult. Another jump slashed his back, only to kick, and crunch into the ribs of a lesser foe. The lizard spun, and bounced off of the stone wall, painfully.
"Better than I thought." The lizard gazed up, panting and coughing, as he fought for breath from battered lungs. Each breath was an ache, a pain, a needless touch of agony that burned deep. A rib was broken, at best. "Not good enough, though."
No. 5588 ID: 7d596c

Looking up, the kobolds eyes hurt, his head throbbed, and he felt a grin slowly press to his mouth, as the shaggy gnoll came up closer, the hyena like face drawn into a snarl. The face was malevolent, the snarl bitter, and the laugh dark. He stepped over the kobold, who stared up. The gun was raised up, aimed down, and the hammer cocked back on the cylinder gun. A bullet was primed - and ready.
But not ready enough for a quick leap and upwards stab. An upwards stab that struck true and painful, between spread legs. It was a strong stab, a sharp upwards jerk and twist, and it ended the fight, the gun falling free, from the hands of a stunned, shock-taken hyena-man. The kobold twisted to the right and got out of the way of the falling beast, who landed with a shudder, and clutched himself, painfully. The knife was lodged in against the pelvic bone - and would hurt very much to pull free.
"First lesson of attacking a kobold." A wheezing lizard spoke, while beginning to calmly pull his belongings together into a leather traveling case. He paid little notice to the gasping beast, and instead, simply withdrew his free dagger and quickly dressed. "Never announce your attacks."
Pulling up the cylinder gun, which took two hands for the small reptile, he glanced it through and tucked it into the case, and slung the case over his shoulder, while stepping over to pull up the message pouch from the hip of the beast. Inside was a simple bounty poster, marked with a red skull. Simple, neat, and clean - a bounty of one-thousand sovereigns for the kobold, dead or alive.
"Lesson two: Make sure the target is dead before gloating." Stepping back, ten sovereigns were tossed to the writhing creature. "For the healer's trouble."
And through a window, For'se, Gentleman Adventurer left.
No. 5589 ID: 7d596c

It was a warm evening in the marshlands, on the river-city of Denne' Runo. Walking Undamod Way, the limping lizard made his way from the shouting and yelling that came from the whereabouts of a now unpleasantly awoken inn. Limping, and clutching his side, the lizard dressed in a button shirt and slid his gloves on, while moving quickly, as the shouts grew angrier behind him. He slid into shadows and ducked down side streets, pulling his pistol belt on and tucking it behind a jacket, which gave him a more reputable air than being half naked in the street.
Not that it helped much.
He wasn't bleeding, to his relief - no blood from mouth and jaw, which meant no punctured lung or ruptured organs, though the kick still sent aches and pains through his battered torso. It was a shame he could not take his rapier with him from home, but the weapons laws were rather strict in this shady city on the boarder of Vojislav and Putheran. A trade city, as well as a city on the opening of a miles wide river, the place had a reputation for shady sorts to exploit, and those seeking a different life to make it to.
Built on the ruins of an old elven city, long since conquered as remnant of a once proud and now defeated race, the city had age and charm and hints of magic to it, something an investigative kobold could find if he followed his nose; but the place was also thick with trouble, from the old Dwarf Quarter, to the manors in the Elven Gardens, each place was dark and dangerous in it's own way. The Monster Quarter, also known as Beast Lane, was the most dangerous, and easiest to get through if one only kept their head down.
It was that way that the lizard made his way, for there lay the factories, and the job he had been paid to do.
Ducking into an older tavern, open all night with cheap prices and unsavory cliental, where the stink of unwashed mammal could rise up and clog the snout, the limping lizard entered, ignoring the stares of the bleeding and broken horn, or the fact that the lizard simply looked like a dragons droppings. He paid little heed as he moved into the back, into a darker room, to recover his strength. A half-orc bouncer gave a grunt, and waved the little lizard through.
There were always places for the dark-friendly denizens to go. He moved down the stairs, to a place of low water, and dark whispers - a place of tryst and treat and tricks, where blood might wash with semen and other scents, darker scents. And here, knowledge could be bought, for a price. The little lizard moved in, past the twined bodies of human and lamia, and past the quiet converse of darkened elves. A neutral ground, they would not draw blade on so small a foe. It was beneath them.
No. 5590 ID: 7d596c

Underestimating a kobold was always the game the little lizards liked to play.
"I need to talk to Abby." The bleeding lizard spoke, while glancing up at a pale, water-slick half-man, who gazed with large eyes and gasped out wordless sounds. The Herald, the ear of the creature of the great darkness. One could hardly tell if it was real, or simply a projection into the mind. With the creature in the dark water, one could never tell.
The voice struck his mind and sent him reeling, crashing into a box and nearly sending him into the water - where he'd be a quick meal, or turned into something not entirely alive. He clutched the edge of the under-docks, and shuddered, the voice slithering across his mind like a thousand tendrils, probing and prodding and leeching from his thoughts, making him feel hot, and cold, slimey, and used.
Some people even paid for this.
"Abby. I need your help."
"I was attacked not more than two hours ago. A Gnoll, using a Cylinder Gun. Aimed worse than a sober dwarf, but still hot me once."
He shuddered again, his head throbbing, worse than the impacted round against his horn. He rubbed at his temple, his vision throbbing as he stared into the dark waters, and could feel six glowing eyes upon him, staring up from the deepest depths.
"Your confidence is stirring."
The water stirred, and he watched a great tentacle rise up from the water, a sign of the attention of something very old, very powerful, and very, very dangerous. It flexed, performing a slow, arcane rhythm through the air.
"The bounty was a thousand sovereign, marked with a red skull."
"What do you want?"
No. 5591 ID: 7d596c

He simply hated having to pay the price for knowledge. The tendril slid in - and grasped the throat of the kobold, and drug his snout to the tip of the water. And he shuddered, as what seemed a thousand more tentacles came in, and enclosed him, shrouded him, covered him. He quivered and grasped and fought for a moment, as his thoughts were grasped and probed and pulled at, memories tugged and stolen away, to return battered, changed, different, but in ways he couldn't recall. It was a violation of self, in the harshest form. But it was payment, and payment had to be paid.
And he lay on his back, gasping for air, staring up at the old cavernous ceiling of this darkened, forbidden place. Soaking wet and a foul taste on his tongue, from the slime of the tendrils themselves, he stared up, head spinning and throbbing, and thankful he couldn't remember all of what had been. He never could tell what he had paid, but the memories, what experiences might have been had. Each payment was harsher than the last - but the knowledge was worth it, valuable facts to complete his mission.
Sometimes it was coins. Other times... other times a favor owed.
And the mind withdrew from a mind far smaller, and the troubling fog cleared away, leaving the dark kobold shivering, feeling violated and troubled, but knowing several more secrets about the city than had been held before. He clutched the box he had been placed on and slowly sagged down, to crawl inside of the box and curl up, shivering, and falling into a darkened slumber, away from the pain and coldness that had gripped him.
It would fade. And at least this time, there were no troubling dreams.
No. 5592 ID: 7d596c

Standing at the outskirts of the great wrought-iron gates that separated factory from the outside world, an unnoticed shadow moved across the face of the bare stones. Clad in a long jacket and scarf, with boots tucked tight and a lock-pick held in teeth, the creature moved quietly, up an outer drain rail and slowly up the face of the tall, smoke-belching factory.
The sun had set upon another day, and this was the night to face adventure and excitement. Thankfully, his ribs only gave a dry ache now, and his skull no longer throbbed, though the bandage did give him away if anyone cared to stare. Pulling higher, he paused at a great open window, to gaze in upon the factory below, where the slave shift worked, in a droning, monotonous manner, with the hopeless look of abused souls wishing it all to go away.
A pitiful sight, and one that would not stand.
It was not the fact slavery existed that so troubled the descending lizard, who clung to the inside of the wall with rope and tail and slowly moved to the floor below. It was not the fact that it happened in such deplorable positions, either. No, he mused, as he climbed up a set of stairs, to reach the overlook of the guards, who kept vigilant eye on the burly creatures beneath. No, it was the fact that choice was gone, the choice to improve oneself, to make oneself better than your surroundings. Slavery was not a horrible place to be, if one could improve and survive and strengthen yourself from who you were before.
He knew this from experience.
Clinging to the underside of the riveted walkway, the kobold moved slowly, trusting in training and balance, in strong grip and quick movements to take him along the rusted underside. He paused, now and then, to hang a small satchel of powder, one of fifteen that he carried. It would not do much by itself, but packed at certain weak points, it would provide amazing results.
He finished his climb, and glanced up, before darting into the supervisors office at the end of the walkway, and held back, unheard or unseen by the dwarf who was stationed inside. A dwarf smelling of ale, whiskey, and the scent of loathing of his position in society.
No. 5593 ID: 7d596c

A supervisor always held the keys to the slave coffle, it was simply not done any other way. And, hanging from a large brass ring, the keys lay just out of reach, near the watchful eyes of the dwarf, who looked over reports and grumbled to himself - an idle tug of his beard showing any real movement. A great axe lay beside him, Dwarvish make and heft and possibly with just a hint of enchantment to it, it was an heirloom axe, for the Dwarvish clans didn't make them quite like that any more. The kobold moved quietly across the floor in either case, and moving in closer.
The butt of the pistol was raised up and held at the ready, the scaled one gripping the barrel of the gun and making sure the weapon was unloaded - he didn't need to shoot himself to put an end to his career! Raising the gun high, the brass gleamed in the glowing light of the enchanted rods around the room, which made reading no challenge - even for a dwarf. Pushing closer, the kobold raised himself up high and felt the world go still, before the weapon crashed down across the back of the dwarves skull.
Which elicited only an indignant grunt.
Six more whacks across the head made the grunt into a groan, and the dwarf slid onto the floor, a sizable knot in the back of an extra tough skull. The skull wasn't broken, but the headache would be massively unpleasant in the morning.
Hefting the axe over his shoulder, the kobold hopped up and pulled down the keys to the slave coffle, and leaned back with a bit of a grunt. Phase one was completed, now for the more difficult phase two.
There was a count of eight guards on the upper tier walkways, each armed with a cylinder rifle; as well as an emergency whistle that they'd blow before firing on me, or one of the slaves below. Ten patrolled outside, which had been easy for one kobold to slip by, but would be a pain in the scaley rear end for a kobold leading a coffle of slaves to move through. The deep barracks were relatively unguarded but task-masters stood between them and freedom, as well as walking between the lines of the machines. Lastly, the destruction of the factory would raise up a city wide alarm. This would lead to being fired upon, or worse, the slaves being executed in a riot atmosphere.
To put it bluntly, it was going to be fun.
No. 5594 ID: 7d596c

Hefting the axe over his shoulder, and standing atop the desk, overlooking the great window, the kobold quietly tied a rope around the great wooden file holder, and grasped a rope, while taking in a long, deep breath, ready for an adventurous night. With thanks, the northern side of the factory was covered and dark, and gave him opportunity to plan his route of attack.
And so, with a flick of his match and the lightning of his personal pipe, For'Se took a long breath and leaned down to drop the match onto the outer catwalk, near the small twine of cloth that had been laid out, just above the last bag of explosive powder. He counted, fifteen seconds would run down before the first explosion, and he ducked himself out the window, and swung low - using the rope with a hand and pistol in the other, and took aim down below.
At the first explosion, his gun roared, a round lodging into the skull of the first taskmaster. At the second, with all eyes up, he dropped down and took aim on a second. Pandemonium began to rush through the guards, who couldn't identify where the explosions were coming from, until the walkway began to collapse down, a pop leading to another section. Their panic was thrilling, and another round took another slave-master down. The lifted eyes of a sorely abused lizard-man caught the attention of For'se, who tossed him the keys to the chains at his throat. It didn't take an alchemist to figure out what he had to do.
Dropping the axe from the sling on his back, For'se slid the axe to a burly looking scaled lizard, whom shouted a whoop and took up the hefty weapon. It understood, it knew what to do, and the beast set to breaking what chains couldn't be quickly unlocked. The time of liberation was at hand.
"Go. Free the others!" For'se shouted, moving between the men of scale and lizard blood, who tore at their chains, as the first sight of liberation came about. Rifles cocked up above - but another explosion in the timed manner made flighty ones panic. Panicking lead to wild shots, which did little but stir and make agitated the slaves below.
"Go! Free your bretheren!"
Some fought. They fought chain and threw them into the gears, others rushed the stairs, some falling dead, others roaring a challenge on sight of fallen brother. The men on the upper tier had little chance though - perhaps that was the blessing. Their deaths were quick, thrown into the machines below. Blood ran thick, and would be a terrible pain to get out of the gears.
Un-needed death was always a shame; but the kobold didn't think twice, as he reloaded his pistol, and set to keeping the doors from being reached by survivors. Thankfully, there were none to alert the guards outside; who wouldn't start investigating for some time.
Of course, phase three would be a little more difficult.
Of the initial eighty slaves, seventy survived. This, counting those drawn from the deep barracks who had been roused from exhausted slumber. The excitement stirred them from lethargy, as did the heat from the machines, which provided them with ample excitement. Hunger was prevalent, and a quick raid of the larder and captured of the cook allowed many to fill hungry belly and thirsty throat. They did well, and looked quite hale for their work, in the eyes of For'se. Of course, there were few young present, a sad state of affairs - low birth rate and infant mortality always was a sad factor amongst egg-layers.
But at least these scaled ones would know freedom.
No. 5595 ID: 7d596c

A city on the river, each factory was within a few dozen yards of the docks, at the furthest. To the chagrin of For'se, and the anxious creatures of scales and chains, it would be a harrowing run. The riflemen were deadly accurate on the docks, not to mention the potential of raising alarm. The other option was to rush through the front door, but that would lead to trouble in town, as well as everyone of the slaves captured or turned into handbags. Neither was a fulfillment of the contract.
"The water is not too far." The small lizard spoke to the larger - he perched upon a series of crates, packed with parts and woodwork. All were heavy. "But we may run afoul of several guards and patrols along the way. The risk is high, but some of you may survive. It will give a fighting chance for you to escape up the river, into the free lands."
"You free us, you lead us, who are you?" The axe-wielder asked. To For'se, it was obvious this was an elder, who remembered the outside, life beyond factory and chains. Chief of the tribe, if nothing more. "Why do you help Muddy River Clan?"
Why indeed. For'se shook his head, cheek tugging up a bit in irritation. Question, question, question, when freedom shrunk by the moment.
"Because I felt it was the right thing to do. Come on, get what you can to use as a weapon. We can move out." The kobold hopped foot to foot, feeling anxious energy running through him. It wasn't what he wanted to be doing, standing around and arguing when action could be had.
He grunted, looked down, and kicked the box once. Looking up at the gathered, a bit of an idea crossed his snout, and he looked to the one who spoke, one of the younglings that had the fortune of surviving the harsh conditioning. Eyes met, and a smile crossed a kobolds snout - something tricky and sneaky something positively bold.
No. 5596 ID: 7d596c

The simplicity of the plan was brilliant; and the simplicity meant fewer chances of making a mess of things. With one lizard inside of a box, two others could lift and carry it, after dumping the contained merchandise out. These boxes then were carried out to the docks, where they waited, stacked and heavy, for a transport to take them up the river. In the dark, it would take many hours for the crates to be ready for transport, as they didn't start until first dawn.
No, not until eighty boxes lay on the dock, stacked two or three high. They faced out wards, and only a keen eye would notice the lids were held open from the inside, not nailed shut, and the two lizard folk stood, tired, and waiting for the boat to arrive. A boat that wasn't due for a pick up - a boat that would find the boxes much lighter, as their contents slid out into the darkness of the night, and many shapes swam under the river, and slowly north, against the flow.
And sitting back, atop the factory, a kobold sat, sucking from a pipe. His head hurt, and his body was exhausted, but he felt content.
Content, to turn to the streets and walk up into Monster Quarter, to move into the quiet underground, where bodies moved in orgiastic tandem, or talked and dealed in the deeper darkness. It was past this, that he walked, to sit on the edge of the docks. It was relaxing down here, cool and dark, and reminded him of places in the ancient dragon blooded memory.
And the comforting sensation of an old friend touching his mind, like a thousand fingers, slippery and wet, massaging his brain and helping sooth his thoughts. And for some reason, he couldn't quite understand, the kobold didn't resist the grasp of the tendrils that withdrew from the water, and pulled him in...


(Damn that was long)
No. 6981 ID: f123de
File 130577478890.png - (172.62KB , 900x600 , escape.png )

This thread needs more attention. Whatever happened to the Journey-verse 4E game?

Anyway, Umbrals are too slow to escape from monsters without assistance. So here's a thing that basically happened in Rosque's game.
No. 6982 ID: abcbff

From what I understand, it was determined that the specific configuration of people necessary for the Layridin campaign was unlikely to ever be assembled again.
No. 6986 ID: 1854db

Oh my god, is that a tiny bat riding on the Umbral?
No. 6990 ID: 3e6377

It's the umbral's familiar. The umbral is a WITCH WITCH BURN IT AT THE STAKE i mean see also >>313699 and >>313727
No. 6992 ID: 1854db

That is one of the most adorable things I've ever heard about.
No. 7218 ID: 049dfa
File 130790379795.png - (1.53KB , 100x100 , AggeiaAvatar1.png )

guess I'll post this here

Layridin (Journey setting) races + some racial feats for D&D 4e. I hope to eventually fill out a setting info dump to accompany it, and a even a monster bestiary eventually as well. But for now, here's the races set up so you can take some and kill some goblins and kobolds or something.

This is basically a first draft, so there's bound to be some errors. So, just a heads up
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