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Messages - Attano

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1
Helpline / Re: Faulty Battle Allegiances
« on: July 09, 2018, 04:04:09 PM »
The issue is that Highmarch didn’t fight Vix alongside Redhaven.

2
Beluaterra / Re: Sacred Obia'Syela
« on: May 13, 2018, 09:52:43 AM »
I am not the best guide as I think myself the layman in 40k but basically it was a pen'n'paper RPG setting (originally just warhammer without 40k) of futuristic, very grandiose sci-fi that over time turned into entire franchise with video games, books, animation movies etc.

Basically in this setting there is God Emperor sort of that rules everything and has lots of orders. Basically the social structure, to put in in coder's language boils down to:

if problem - apply terror
if solved - good
if not - apply more terror
rinse and repeat

Inquisition is the top branch of the tree. When they find signs of heresy they don't throw the baby out with the bathwater, they throw the entire kindergarten out with the bathwater.

I believe it translated well into Obia'Syela, since early Inquisition in OS was the one time I had the inexplicably awesome opportunity to enjoyably balance on the edge between being rewarded and being executed.
That’s a rough idea. God-Emperor’s been dead for 10k years. His soul is lighting the space lighthouse, human FTL travel is through hell.

The plan settled is only done by Inquisitors. Local governments are usually more lenient, agri-world governors are very lenient, hive-world governors tend to be more harsh because gangs.

It started out as the RPG Rogue Trader, a few editions later it turned to the 40k tabletop war game.

It did translate very well to OS, due to the actions of Spearhold and co.

3
Beluaterra / Re: Sacred Obia'Syela
« on: May 11, 2018, 11:21:26 AM »

4
Beluaterra / Re: Sacred Obia'Syela
« on: May 11, 2018, 12:19:55 AM »
I don't think a faith of 50,000 followers is big enough to make that happen. Flights from beyond the Veil aren't cheap, you know. Get back to me when we hit a million faithful or a hundred noble followers...
cough Portal Stones cough

5
Beluaterra / Re: Sacred Obia'Syela
« on: May 10, 2018, 08:13:38 AM »
Oh, I don't think you want to do that...
I think I really do.

6
Beluaterra / Re: Sacred Obia'Syela
« on: May 10, 2018, 02:20:44 AM »
Best birthday gift to Obeah would be summoning Her, no?

7
Roleplaying / Apostate’s daze
« on: May 04, 2018, 01:50:04 PM »
After being thrown into a tree by Erasmus.

Roleplay from Apostate
Message sent to everyone in the region Avengmil (22 recipients)
Apostate gasped with pain as he awoke, head exploding. He groaned as he felt around the back of his head, searching for the source of the white-hot pain. His fingers touched something wet. He staggered to his feet, gripping his staff. His vision was blurred and tinted with red. He stumbled forward and nearly fell.

Awkwardly and mumbling incoherently he took a few more steps, dazed. His staff saved him from falling, barely. Ahead was a large tent, he took another step.

The next step had him fall to the ground. Pain exploded in his head again and he cried. Blinking away the red, he saw more clearly. He saw the low dancing of a flame. He smelt death, smoke, burning flesh. He heard steel on steel. The sounds of war.

He rose to his feet, nearly falling again. He continued to the large tent, pawing at the chest of his robes. He mumbled.

“Gythrul, Gythrul...”

8
Roleplaying / Throwing off the Inquisition
« on: May 02, 2018, 03:30:55 PM »
Roleplay from Apostate   (6 minutes ago)
Message sent to everyone in "Heralds of Obeah " (27 recipients)
Apostate cursed as the guards threw him to the ground. Begrudgingly, he picked himself up and walked to the Temple of Obeah. Scribbling his name in the Book of Names, he marched off to Avengmil.

After five hours on the road and a quick hunt he had arrived at his hut. It was near the Northern Hills, on the fringes of society. It suited him well. His position also allowed him ample opportunity to spy on the Attano Manor.

The hut, like its owner, was in a sorry state. A section of reed roof had fallen in, the hole patched with a spare tent. A weed choked garden sat by the door. Inside was a dusty, smoky mess. A pot of day old stew boiled over a campfire, a chair by it. Two tables were in the room, one for carcasses and the other stocked with old cutlery and plates. Three full kegs of beer sat upon it as well, tankards cluttered near them. The back wall had a hammock tied to it, also an extra tent. Odds and ends were littered around the hut, old books and interesting baubles. Herbs hung from the rafters amid potential spell components, items which were in reality useless to all but the wisest sages.

Apostate set the fawn carcasses upon the bloodied table, the smaller of the two he prepared the meat for the stew and set the other parts aside to be readied for the market.

He unstrapped his staff and bow from his pack, setting them by the door.

Hours later he had completed his toil. From the mouth of a hill cave hung bone chimes and scriptures made from deerskin. The skull hung morbidly above the macabre decorations. Inside, three bedrolls, discarded supplies, a crude Daimon Idol and a roaring campfire. He was pleased, this would serve as a nice distraction for his true endeavour.

Using his skill as a hunter, the disheveled former priest made his way to his hut. It would take time for the rumours of a cult base in the hills to pop up, but he was patient. Contentedly, he served himself up venison stew, his first hot meal in weeks.

9
Beluaterra / Re: Netherworld
« on: April 23, 2018, 05:07:37 AM »
Was Aletha a PC?

10
Beluaterra / Re: Sacred Obia'Syela
« on: April 22, 2018, 09:22:42 AM »

*vexed grumbling*


Of course, its not like we know for sure how he's doing over there. If he comes back we'll ask him.

It can’t be that bad, right? That’d be something.

Sea monsters are stupid and should be removed from the game forever.


Change my mind.

You know who doesn’t have monster troubles? Daimons and their followers.

11
Roleplaying / The Daughter
« on: April 19, 2018, 11:12:05 AM »
Mercy cocked her head to the side. She was an inch shorter than her father, standing at 5’ 7”, she had her father’s dark eyes and hair, but not his fair complexion. She had been told her tan skin was her mother’s, a woman from the deserts surrounding Tahgalez. She was supposedly an influential noble. Mercy didn’t care for that right now, she was focused on the present and the strange man sitting in her parlour.

He said he was twenty. He looked to be much older. His skin was a little darker than hers, his white robes were tattered and dusty, exposing an old brand on his chest that depicted an eye. His face, what was visible behind an unkempt and ragged beard, was disheveled. Heavy bags hung under his tired green eyes. His hands clutched a gnarled wooden staff.

“You are telling me that my father was resurrected by a Daimon and then literally walked into Hell?” She asked, her voice cold. The man sitting across from her nodded meekly. “You expect me to believe that?” He nodded again. “Who are you?”

“My Lady,” He began, his voice dry. “I was a priest in service to your father, The Last Tongue of The Gods.”

Mercy laughed coldly. “Don’t give me that Last Tongue crap. I don’t care if he was the leader of a cult.”

The man started to shake his head but the look in Mercy’s eye stopped him. “I am here to tell you that you are now head of your household here. I understand you are heading for Avengmil, no? Near the border to Ardmore there is a cache, marked by a lone tree, dead and split in twain. It has the answers to—“

“No.” Mercy flatly stated. She pointed to the door. The man promptly stood up and left. She shook her head.

Time to introduce herself.

Apostate sat by his tent in Avengmil, eating last night’s soup. The daughter would not listen, but he was persistent. The legacy of the Last Tongue must go on.

12
Roleplaying / Blizzard of Light - Ardmore Portal Event
« on: April 18, 2018, 11:01:58 PM »
Blizzard of Light   (just in)
message to everyone in the vicinity of Ardmore
With the portal stones set deep underground, the earth had been pierced with the beam of light. With Erasmus' ritual underway for several days, the earth began to rumble, collapsing the flimsy peasant hovels. Nearby, humans had fought unnatural creatures upon trembling ground.

But now, in the dead of night, all intensified. The buzzing and crackling that accompanied portal light beams shifted into the pounding of wardrums, deafening all else. What had been merely a shaking ground now erupted into a full earthquake within Ardmore, collapsing monster dens. Which just so happened to release Jessica and Tom from their rogue imprisonment. The normally pure white beam of light darkened to a crimson red.

Deep underground, visible only to Erasmus, the ring of portal stones had lifted from where they had been set and rotated from horizontal to vertical. Within the circle, a portal to another world became visible. Several flashed by, fertile lands of green, black endless emptiness, pastel wonderlands.

Yet when Erasmus dramatically completed his esoteric ritual, the world beyond flashed into a hellish nightscape that swirled with black smoke. One could nearly smell the acrid air, when a claw shot forth from beyond, followed by a flaming foot. Erasmus dropped to his knees when a daimon stepped forth. Placing a claw upon the chest of Usul and Gythrul, daimonic words spoken, their eyes widened awake. Stepping back, the daimon admired his work as the two arose once more.

Above, unaware of the horrors occurring beneath their feet, many rejoiced at the cessation of the intolerably-deafening wardrums, that had occurred once the daimon had crossed over into Beluaterra. However, Arterius, Divus, and Vahanian failed to rejoice upon realizing they were permanently deaf to all sound. More visibly comforting, the light column had lightened from crimson to a relaxing blue hue, calming the panicked wildlife, and then back to its typical pure white. Yet not all was over yet, as without warning the light column exploded outward, forming a whiteout blizzard of lightflakes upon all in the region. Even that didn't seem all that bad however when the wounded discovered that they were not only healed, but felt a bit more youthful as well.

Back deep underground, none had spoken since Usul and Gythrul had risen. Inspecting them as one might expect a military doctor inspects a recruit, the daimon then, without a word, turned towards the portal. Usul and Gythrul followed, seemingly understanding that they were to follow the daimon back into the Netherworld to retire, being no more for this world. As they crossed into the portal and their new afterlife amongst daimonkind, the portal snapped shut, the portal stones having poofed into dust clouds that now floated to the ground.

It was now that the whiteout lightflake blizzard aboveground abruptly ceased, plunging Ardmore back into night's darkness. Except shortly, it was realized that it was not merely night's darkness that blocked their sight, but that Astros, Jessica, Jorvik, Lyndis, Radzik, and Serena found themselves permanently blinded from the intense light-blizzard they had just survived.

13
Beluaterra / Re: Sacred Obia'Syela
« on: April 18, 2018, 11:01:06 PM »
Portal event. What was that Rania said about Gythrul finding no reward in the afterlife the first time he was in the cells of SOS?

14
Beluaterra / Re: Sacred Obia'Syela
« on: April 13, 2018, 04:06:53 PM »
Sooooo anyone spare a healing scroll?

15
Beluaterra / Re: Sacred Obia'Syela
« on: April 11, 2018, 02:44:30 PM »
Here's my worry: Invasions can happen in a lot of ways, but last time it began with monster spawns from sea and rogue regions, which SOS is still completely surrounded by bc the southern monster spawns have been ridiculous. And if you think we're struggling now, wait till those invasion-level, 50k+ Rogue hordes start popping up again. If we don't find a way to populate and pacify the south, we'll loose it.

Sooo, I should unpack my Portal stuff?

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