cryptomancer-actual
commented
7 years ago This is great @KadeMorton , thank you for contributing. We could use Stryholme, a city under martial law, as a backdrop for the Dungeon Escape adventure I'm writing. We could also use your three characters (and maybe one or two more) as pregenerated characters that players could play (instead of having to build their own). Do you (or anyone) have any interest in making character sheets for them? I can convert someone's notes into a character sheet (sadly, I never got around to making a form-fillable PDF for character sheets).
KadeMorton
Wanted to contribute something before the Sprint, found the time to write up some characters and the beginnings of an adventure. I've only had time to skim the Cryptomancer pdf so if there is anything glaring incorrect I apologise, I deliberately left things like true names for the characters out as I thought players might like to come up with them for themselves.
Common name: Alisiea Magmafort Female Dwarf
Alisiea was born Alisiea Brockwater. Born to a small relatively unknown Clan, Alisiea grew up seeing the finery around her of the other Halls and Clans, knowing it was something she would never have. Bitterness was a sentiment that permanently ate into her heart. Her fortunes were changed when she came to the attention of Biradan Magmafort, mogul of Clannhall Magmafort. Alisiea was sent to participate in a crystal carving competition held at Clanhall Magmafort, the best carvers of which would be given a retainer to practice their craft for the Clanhall. All competitors would be given a meal and a small amount of gold simply for participating which was all her parents were after, but Alisiea, with her skills worked from a young age in the mines was one of the best competitors on the day producing a beautiful crystal dragon from a single large piece of amethyst. The dragon still sits in her chambers to this day. On seeing the dragon, Biradan Magmafort produced a Shard crystal from his wonderfully tailored coat and asked Alisiea to cut it. Producing five perfect Shards, Biradan summoned his servants with contract and quill, and Alisiea was signed as a shardsplitter for Clan Magmafort. Alisiea plied her trade and rose through the ranks of servants to the Clan, but she had a chip on her shoulder. Her life had bettered, but it was through pure luck and the generosity of others. Alisiea never felt as grateful for the legup as she objectively felt she should, and more than once her temper with those wealthier or of higher status flared. When call came for Clan Magmafort to supply a shardsplitter to the human kingdom of Stryholme, politics meant Alisiea was sent. Working for the Stryholme royal family creating shardnets for royal household, Alisiea wasn’t content with her position. She wanted more. Doing little but cutting crystal, her mind wandered. In her personal time she’d say up late at night sketching out new ideas, new inventions, new ways of combining her skill and cryptomancy. She looked for a way to record echoes and store them permanently, creating a new system of record keeping. But her experiments ate a number of shards. It took Alisiea weeks to stomach the idea of asking for patronage. Eventually she approached someone rich enough to help her, bright enough to understand her work deserved support but dim enough, in her opinion, to not realise the sheer possibilities of her work. Prince Robric Ravenwing.
Common name: Robric Ravenwing Male Human
Robric was born to privilege. The king and queen left his raising to servants who he could complain about to his parents, so they dared not reign him in. Consequently Robric was a spoilt brat. He tormented servants and courtiers alike. Robric noticed that his father the king grew more distant from him as he slowly became a teenager, so grew closer to the queen. When Robric turned fourteen he learned why his father had grown cold towards him. Having grown tired with his sons’ antics but not taking responsibilty to do anything about it himself, the king had Robric shipped off to the neighbouring kingdom of Oyarheim. Robric didn’t know what he was in for leaving Stryholme in a gilded carriage. The lack of fanfare at his arrival was the first inkling. Instead he was met by Sergeant Mulkin, a grizzled drill sergeant in the Oyarheim infantry. Robric found out the hard way he had been enlisted into the Oyarheim military by his father, ostensibly to strengthen the ties between Stryholme and Oyarheim, but also to make Robric grow up. That first day, Sergeant Mulkin yelled at Robic until he was horse and Robic had no more tears left. On being marched to his barracks he was beaten by other soldiers. The beatings became a regular occurrence until one solider, Private Sigmur Quelf, who took part in the beatings as much as his other barrackmates, stepped in when a particular beating went too far. Sigmur got into a fight with another soldier to spare Robric. The next day, Sigmur took Robric into the forest, skipping their daily duties, and taught Robic how to fight. That night, when the rest of the barracks came for Robric, as Sigmur had taught him, Robic picked the largest of the soliders and punched him square in the nose. The other soldier went down, Robric on top of him raining punches. Robric was still beat that night, but nowhere near as badly as others, and it was the last night. Robric could now defend himself. Over the course of many months Robric became part of the barracks, sharing in the chores and duties equally, eventually even building commradery with some of this fellow soldiers. Five years later, now an officer, Robric was recalled back to Stryholme. Robric had been given a taste of leadership and command in the Oyarheim military and didn’t want to give that up. He immediately inserted himself into the Stryholme military, and when not on patrol or exercises he was at court building connections and charming courtiers. The King’s coldness towards his son did not thaw. Robric spoke to the shardsplitter for the royal household, Alisiea Magmafort, since Robric made the point to speak to all household servants since his return from Oyarheim on the off chance they prove well connected or useful past their immediate station, and such was the case with Alisiea. Robric found in Alisiea a sharp intellect backed by personal drive. She had ideas, ideas Robric quickly realised he could use. They both started laying their plans.
Common name: Evoness Guthrex Female Elf
Evoness never knew her elven parents. She was found by her human father, a woodcutter by the name of Haran Guthrex as he left the city walls of Stryholme at first light to gather wood from the Sylvetica forest that encroached on the city. Haran found a baby elven girl in a woven grass basket just past the treeline, and after many hours of looking for any signs of the elves that had left her, took her home. The Guthrexs had little knowledge of elven culture never having strayed far from Stryholme, and they chose the name Evoness as it sounded elven to their ears, but it sounds like a poor human attempt at their language to elves. Evoness quickly learned this but it was her name given to her by parents who took her in, she clung to her name. Stuck between both worlds, raised as a human but never able to be one, an elf who didn’t understand the deep intricacies of elven culture, Evoness never fit in and so applied herself to something that race and culture didn’t play a part in, education. Since none of the other children played with Evoness, she studied. She quickly outpaced her classmates and there wasn’t a subject, from arithmetic to cryptomancy that she couldn’t master given time and a good textbook. Evoness didn’t want to be a woodcutter like her father or a homemaker like her mother, and in her teenage years she started to wonder what she would do with her life. It was a simple problem. You needed money to buy food and purchase land, and wealth flowed from Subterra, so she applied to work for transport cartels, shifting goods from Subterra to Sylvetica to Sphere. Evoness was good at organising and her side project was learning what commodities sold for what price, who the players were in the different industries and figuring out how she could deal with them. Evoness saw that to get into the market you needed a lot of money and she was a simple transport clerk from woodcutter parents. In Evoness’s worldview, this was simply another problem, how to amass large sums of money quickly, and the logical answer was breaking the law. Evoness reasoned she wasn’t hurting anyone with what she did, so it discretely became known that if you didn’t have the right customs documents, Evoness could handle that for a fee. If you didn’t want anyone looking too closely at a shipment, Evoness could take care of that as well, for a larger fee. Unfortunately this meant dealing with unsavoury types, but Evoness could live with that, she wasn’t out to make friends. She was careful, never physically meeting with anyone she didn’t like the look of, used cryptomancy liberally, and the one time she found herself on the wrong side of dangerous people their shipments were seized and they were sidelined by the syndicates that appreciated Evoness’s services. Having learned what she needed and gathered her down deposit Evoness opened her own business shipping the most valuable commodity there was, shard crystals. After a number of shipments Evoness found that she didn’t have to just sell the crystals, she employed a shardsplitter and could sell the finished product, precut shards at a discount and shards cut in front of a wealthy client at a mark up. The precut shards were sold as full sets bar one but not advertised as such, the final shard being sold to her old business associates as back doors into the communications of Stryholme’s populace. Everything was going so well, until she received a fateful message from Gormath Bluffspire, he had information she would be interested in. After settling on a price that neither Evoness or the old Dwarven crook were happy with, Gormath told her he had an agent in the royal household. They had regular access to the shardnet used by Prince Robric Ravenwing and Gormath had been able to brute force the weak phrase used by the Prince. He was working with a shardsplitter to create something that would put Evoness's little business very much out of business. Evoness had enough wealth and contacts to get an invitation to the upcoming royal ball, she planned to attend and sort the matter.
Story:
Alisiea turned as the solid wood and iron door to the study was opened and an elf walked in. “Robric, who is your guest?” Alisiea snapped at the stunned looking human standing across from her. “She isn’t my guest,” Robric insisted. “I’m not anyone’s guest,” Evoness said coldly. “I invited myself.” Alisiea cast her eyes around the room. Dusty books, moth eaten tapestries. Not much to use as a weapon, unless she could heft the bust of Old King Danil Ravenwing and the elf didn’t move. Unlikely. “How did you invite yourself?” Alisiea asked, stalling for time. Perhaps a castle guard would come walking past, but then, Robic had chosen the room because it was out of the way. “He used a ridiculously weak passphrase,” the elf replied. “I told you it wasn’t strong enough,” Alisiea seethed at the stupid prince. “How was I supposed to know?” the Prince asked. His face then took on a shocked expression. “Oh dear, what else did you see?” The elf rolled her eyes and plucked at her evening gown. “Nothing else relevant. I’m here to discuss your little business plan.” Robric straightened the collar of his silk shirt, attempting to save some face. “Well then, by my reckoning there’s one of you and two of us. I was trained by the finest swordsmen in both Stryholme and Oyarheim. You aren’t armed or armoured.” “All of that would be a problem,” Evoness said slowly, “if you had a sword. Your just as weaponless as I.” Robric looked to his waist, around which was wrapped a beautifully embroided sash but indeed no belt or scabbard. “You clearly have us at a disadvantage,” Alisiea replied. “You know who we are and what our plans are, but we don’t know who you are. You must have seen the value of my ideas. We’re always looking for business partners.” “Don’t flatter yourself,” the elf scowled. “I’ve come to tell you that I have friends in high and low places and I’ll make it my life’s mission to ruin your little science project if you don’t drop it.” “I shouldn’t flatter myself and yet here you are making threats. I think that’s flattery enough, wouldn’t you say?” “Listen,” Evoness started, pointing at the dwarf, but the sounds of yelling from down the hall cut her off. Alisiea flicked a glance at Robric then back to their unwanted guest. “The balls seems quite rowdy.” “Too rowdy,” Robric agreed. Evoness faltered. The yells from down the hall turned to blood curdling screams. “Mother and father!” Robric yelled as he pushed past Evoness and dashed down the hall. Alisiea was right behind him. She’d never worn dresses and her slightly nicer than normal workshirt and pants made keeping pace with the idiot Robric easy. The door at the end of the hall was shut, Robric reached for the handle only to have his wrist grabbed by the elf who had caught up with them. “I didn’t get to where I am in life by taking risks I didn’t have to,” the elf whispered. With her free hand she quietly wrapped her slender fingers around the door handle and opened the door just a crack. The three figures, standing in gloom, squinted as harsh light flooded through the opening. Black clad figures roamed the hall as party goers and courtiers screamed and ran. They were trapped though, and everyone who was too slow to avoid the black figures was cut down by the flick of a sword blade. Robric looked to the head of the room and saw more black figures standing around the throne. The bodies of the King and Queen lie slumped across them. “Mother!” Robric half cried half choked and Alisiea put the prince in a headlock, firmly planting her strong hand across his mouth. “Shut up or we’re dead, too,” Alisiea whispered fiercely. “What was that?” a strong voice rang out across the ball room. “Behind that door!” “Run,” Evoness urged the other two. Alisiea shoved Robric and he stumbled, breaking into a run to catch up to the elf and the dwarf. “Is there a way out of here?” Evoness panted as the three barrelled down the hall. Light flooded the hallway as the door was opened and voices raised in anger. “Yes,” Robric called out. The end of the hall with nothing but a hard brick wall and a view of Weswin Abby’s spires piercing the night sky through a stained glass window was coming up fast. “I don’t see it!” Alisiea yelled. “Trust me!” Robric responded, then sprinted past the elf the dwarf, throwing himself at the last second shoulder first through the ornate window. Evoness and Alisiea both screamed as they threw themselves out the window after the prince. The air whistled with crossbow bolts above Alisiea as she hit hard, a great unyielding jolt and a shot of pain running through her as she hit the shingles of the tower below. In a shower of shattered red tiles, arms and legs, Robric, Evoness and Alisiea all yelled at the top of their lungs as they fell again, this time hitting the roof of the greenhouse attached to the castle. Glass smashed, branches cracked and then another breath stealing thud as Alisiea hit the ground with Evoness and Robric beside her. Turning her head, Alisiea saw a giant and wickedly curved shard of glass embedded in the soft earth only a handsbreath from her head.
“Everyone OK?” Alisiea groaned. “More or less,” Evoness answered grimly, picking herself up slowly. “We have to keep moving, they’ll be down to check the glasshouse soon,” Alisiea said, gingerly dusting herself off. “I knew that man,” Robric said hoarsely. “As grateful as I am for your quick thinking and even quicker fall,” Alisiea drawled, “we don’t have time for this, we have to go.” “No,” Robric pressed, a burning intensity in his eyes. “The man in the ballroom leading the others, I knew him.” “Alright, you knew him,” Evoness said. “Who was he?” “Sigmur Quelf. I trained with him in Oyarheim. Those men in the ballroom must have been Oyarheim soldiers.” “Lets unravel the mystery later!” Alisiea urged. Shouts carried on the evening air. “Right you are,” Robric said curtly as the trio ran for the glasshouse door. Slipping out of the castle grounds, that were strangely devoid of guards, the unlikely trio made their way onto the streets of Stryholme. Evoness went to turn the corner when Robric grabbed her, pulling the elf back into the shadows. “What are you doing?” Evoness demanded. Robric put his finger to his lips, motioning for quiet. Alisiea then heard it too. The percussive beat of well drilled feet hitting cobblestones. A moment later soldiers marched into view, led by a greying drill sergeant. “Stryholme is under martial law!” a strident voice called from somewhere in the formation. “Oyarheim is in administrative control in the city until this crisis is averted! Stryholme is under martial law!” “Well, that was quick,” Alisiea murmured. “Far too quick,” Robric agreed. “The old one at the front is Sergeant Mulkin. He trained me. If anyone knows what’s going on here, he does.” “You aren’t taking on fifty soldiers by yourself,” Alisiea insisted. “We need a plan.” “This way,” Evoness said, nodding down the alley into the shadows. “I know someone who might know something.” “You know,” Alisiea said, trotting to catch up and fall in step beside the elf. “We never got your name.” “Evoness,” she replied, shaking hands with Alisiea and then Robric in turn. “Guess we’re partners after all.”