RPG/FIC

Another quick game backstory log, remember last time, newly vampire'd Robyn wrote to his Godfather? While that was happening, said Godfather (Hrothgar) was already penning a letter to Robyn. this letter gets to Robyn, whilst they are sailing south from the Frost Giants' Glacier.... Dear Robyn ,  I write to you from Slash’s reconstructed barge, that I hurried  to hammer together as our home has fallen down upon our ears. Dragonport has been beset by Dragons. Black Dragons, historic enemy to the Patron Copper Dragons that once ruled Dragonport, in the Olden times. I am sailing to our ancestral home in the Old Lands.  I have ‘The Terror’s’ Loot, and our own treasure, your crown, and all else I could find of real value before our entire city block was drown in acid and fire, the gargantuan old Black Dragons disintegrated whole buildings in minutes, groups of beings in seconds. One minute, the elf in front of you is screaming in sheer terror, the next second, she...

My Pathfinder game is tomorrow. One of the NPCs, Robyn, a Dwarf Fighter, has gone missing. Someone intercepted this letter addressed to Hrothgar, who is Robyn's Godfather, and former boss at the Armoury in Dragonport. Robyn has been fighting with the group as long as they have been a group, almost. The letter was given to them by a mongrelman street urchin, as the group were eating breakfast one morning in the pub. Dear Hrothgar, I don’t much like being a vampire. I mean have you ever met a Dwarf vampire? I didn’t think so. We aren’t nearly as appetizing to the undead, nor are we as numerous as Humans and Elves, which is the reason that almost any Vamp or Wight, or what have you, that you meet, is of either Human or Elf extraction.  I think if I can get myself away from these assholes who have turned me; I will start a fellowship of The Less Glamourous Vampires. Do you recall that Half Orc Vampire lady a few years ago, who paid upfront for adamantine armour for he...

I Have Been Living  In An Airship: Part 2 Both the Tiger Man and the Gandaberunda had done damage to the airship, and we had to stay in Bombay for a few days. Professor Eaglesbury was transported to a hospital in Bombay and I resolved to visit him before we headed north to Delhi, ourselves. But first I had some real work to do in terms of preparing myself for whatever transformation is slowly creeping through me. This is definitely not my first time in the bull ring as those bastard Spaniards living in that Mayan temple hidden deep in the Amazon liked to say. Aside from all the backstabbing and betrayals, they weren’t a bad group of sorcerers.  I spent much of the next few days performing rituals that I have created that tap into the Mayan, Outback, and Egyptian ‘Dream Times.’ It is tiring, but when not consecrating myself and the Airship, I am out on the drydocks where we getting refitted, documenting the various algae, and moulds that I can find, small innocuous un...

Below is the first part of a game log/ RPGFIC from a steampunk Mutants and Masterminds game I play in. there are a few previous logs here from earlier games. Our characters had a long break, in game time since our last adventure (2 years) so I filled in some backstory on my own. The telling though was getting too long, so I am breaking it up into two parts. What I have here is my backstory, and the first part of the game. I will have the remainder done in a day or two. Excerpted from The Journal Of Rosie Ramses I have been living on an airship! (part 1) A couple of years ago, my dearest friends and compadres in adventure and esoteric practices and I, returned from a trip to a very bleak future. None of us has really been the same since that time: The Lady Penelope Westmoreland, or simply “The Lady” as I usually call her, as she was and is one of the few women I have met in England who deserve a title...  The Lady returned to the horrible future to rescue her nie...

The following is a translation from Old Dwarfish into the common tongue, from the Original Source Material provided to the Weekly Tattler, and this reporter. The following report,  be it truth or fiction, was found to be a scroll on a kind of vellum not seen since the time the old Lands were young; a scroll that washed ashore inside a rather large wine bottle, magically corked. Your Reporter of Tales Tall & Small: El-Ray P. Dodds Presents: The Last Dwarf In the Old Lands ,  A Memoir by Rusilka Muntansdottir , Last of The Old Dwarves . Part III Remnants of The Six & The Copper Dragon How The Six Became Seven, Then Eight. I had nary a moment to sit and pen some more of my tale of helping to bring the Offer of Peace from the Dragons to the Frost Giants’ fabled domed city, where it is purportedly always colder inside the Ice City, than outside, even when there is a winter storm. Magic, or perhaps some engineering of the d...

{Excerpted From the DragonPort weekly (and perhaps world's only) Newspaper, The Tattler} The following is a translation from Old Dwarfish into the common tongue, from the Original Source Material provided to the Weekly Tattler, and this reporter. The following report,  be it truth or fiction, was found to be a scroll on a kind of vellum not seen since the time the old Lands were young; a scroll that washed ashore inside a rather large wine bottle, magically corked. Your Reporter of Tales Tall & Small: El-Ray P. Dodds Presents: The Last Dwarf In the Old Lands ,  A Memoir by Rusilka Muntansdottir , Last of The Old Dwarves . Part II Remnants of The Six & The Copper Dragon This is the second of my “scroll in a bottle histories” of my band of companions and our trek from the headland of the Old Lands across the ruined cities, and the desert, swamps, jungles and ultimately the Sea, and beyond the so called New Land...

Turns out one of the NPC's has been lying about who she is.... The group finds this letter addressed to "The Gang" upon their Oracle's tidy bedroll, just before the game starts. a little morsel to whet the appetite. "Gloriana’s" Last Letter Fellows, it is with a heavy heart that I bid you farewell, as, if you are reading this, I have already left Skull Island. You might think I have run off with that beautiful Fetchling Baritone who you well know I have been trysting with.  Alas, that was not to be so. While I may stray off the path my Goddess has strewn for me at times, the young baritone is about as evil (- in a radiating it at such an intensity that it makes one who is sensitive to such things a bit dizzy, and eventually, vomitously ill, kind of way) as it gets. Twas merely a tryst, but no more; as you likely do not know also, I am once again single. My wedding contract with Craddock the Djinn, Bess’ right hand man, is over. I am fort...