Having consolidated their power within the Sedarin government, the Scarred Hand turned their ambitions to Wizard’s Peak and the secrets held within. Isolated and under siege, the Wizard’s Peak Guild’s acts of desperation would introduce the Warforged to Erath.

The creation of the Warforged was an attempt to bolster the defenses of the Sanctum and the Hall of Worlds within Wizard’s Peak. The initial constructs were powerful but mindless, and proved insufficient against the forces behind the Sedarin military specialists. In an event of mixed luck and exhaustion, the Grand Artificer Dariun Ryel stumbled upon the long-lost secret of creating sentient objects by inadvertently infusing his consciousness into a non-living construct and becoming the first sentient Warforged.

The benefits of being a Warforged became apparent: there was no need for food or drink, nor even breathe, and sleep became unnecessary. Many within the Sanctum volunteered to become Warforged and were infused into ready constructs. To hasten the creation of Warforged, Dariun shared the arcane process with five of his pupils and bound them to oaths of secrecy so it would not fall into the wrong hands.

As they grew in number, the Warforged did much to help turn the tide of the siege. However, unforeseen misfortune would befall the sentient construct as they started to slowly lose the memories of their prior lives, keeping only their base purpose and memory from the point of becoming Warforged.

Part II to follow soon...

As an aside, Tieflings and Aasimar have always existed on Erath, although their nature is now apparent.

Tieflings are met with considerable prejudice and hatred, even when not warranted. Not all Tieflings were witting supporters of the puppets that the Scarred Hand placed in positions of power, nor were all aware of their infernal heritage prior to the action of the Divine Concordance. Now, Tieflings conceal their presence in the shadows of slums and remote locations as a matter of survival. Although rare, their presence was not limited to Sedaria.

By contrast, Aasimar are viewed with a wary awe due to their divine heritage. They are fewer in number than Tieflings due to the reluctance of divine beings to violate the Divine Concordance.

Being presumptive, but hoping that I am merely helpful, I thought I would start a thread if we have questions about character generation.

   

Here is a place to inquire about the recent changes to the world of Erath.

   

   

Use this thread to describe your characters

Attached is a PDF document outlining all current character options, including available playable races, classes, and their restrictions. Although it is comprehensive, there may be potential options that I overlooked with compiling the lists.

If in doubt, be sure to ask.

Also, be sure to check for updates to content and supplementary information on how the options fit into the World of Erath.

Good Gaming!

Attached Files

  Player Options Erath v1.pdf (Size: 322.88 KB / Downloads: 94)

According to Anders, it will take over a month to acclimate to the elevation necessary for the party's expedition. The ascent will be fraught with numerous perils, but can be negotiated with the proper training. His plan is to set up a base camp at the lower altitude of Half-Mountain, which will be incrementally moved as the party trains. Regular ascents and returns will be performed until the party is ready to perform the final legs of the climb.

Anders's mandatory training includes the following:

EXPERT MOUNTAINEERS (Player's Handbook II p.160)
Your team can work together to ascend difficult slopes and sheer surfaces with relative ease.
Training: Constant training with expert climbers has made your team comfortable with ascents and descents.
Task Leader Prerequisite: Climb 8 ranks and Use Rope 8 ranks. (Anders)
Team Member Prerequisite: Climb 1 rank or Use Rope 1 rank.
Benefit: If a team member succeeds on a Climb check, every other team member adjacent to him gains a +2 circumstance bonus on Climb checks made to ascend the same surface. Furthermore, each team member can make an accelerated climb with only a –2 penalty on the Climb check. Finally, a team member can catch a falling comrade by succeeding on a Climb check against the wall’s DC (not against the wall’s DC + 10).

SUPERIOR TEAM EFFORT (Player's Handbook II p.162)
When your team works together on a task... (in this case, mountaineering) everyone on the team does a better than average job of assisting each other’s efforts.
Training: Your team focuses on improving a particular skill (Climb). Each team member watches the task leader and learns a few specific actions that can help her succeed.
Task Leader Prerequisite: 8 ranks in a skill and Skill Focus for the same skill.
Team Member Prerequisite: 1 rank in the skill to which the task leader’s Skill Focus feat applies.
Special: This teamwork benefit applies only to checks made with the skill to which the task leader’s Skill Focus feat applies.
Benefit: Any team member who attempts to aid another member’s check with the relevant skill must make a DC 5 check to succeed rather than a DC 10 check.

The training will take a total of four weeks.

He will also incorporate the following into the training period in order to improve progress and survival on the mountainside:

CAMP ROUTINE (Player's Handbook II p.159)
The regular routine your group has established allows you to set up, watch, and break down camp quickly and efficiently.
Training: To develop a camp routine, the team must establish a regular schedule of tasks and responsibilities for each member. For example, one character might set up the tents while another starts the fire and a third prepares the evening meal. Your team must also set up a routine watch schedule so that everyone knows who goes on watch when, and for how long.
Task Leader Prerequisite: Survival 8 ranks or Self-Sufficient.
Team Member Prerequisite: Survival 1 rank.
Benefit: Your team can set up and break camp with an eye toward defensibility and efficiency. The team member on watch gains a +2 bonus on Spot and Listen checks, and each sleeping team member gains a +4 bonus on Listen checks to hear any sounds within 30 feet.

The following is a true story. This event did happen. The exact phrasing has faded due to the entropy of memory but I have done my best to adhere to the exact as much as I can, and to the intent when I cannot.


In early 2011, a certifiable psychopath, who does not deserve to be named, murdered a female guard in the Washington State Reformatory Chapel. A deed similar to his previous acts that resulted in his life sentence.

This horrible act of madness is not the topic of this retrospection but the backdrop of its telling and in no way meant to trivialize or reduce the severity of that act.

In response to this tragedy the Department of Corrections responded in kind. They removed two cherished bastions of solace. Rare safe harbors amid the chaotic dissonance of our fractured conformity. They stripped from us the last two meaningful conduits of purpose and belonging. That is, they shut down the hobby shop and the music program.

Yours truly, at the time, was involved in both. In the hobby shop I was spinning clay and tooling leather. In the music room I was playing guitar in my band "Travy Trav and the Trav Tones". ( Any correlation between the name of the band and an over inflated ego of the author is purely coincidental. I assure you. I am awesome)

The hobby program never recovered from this tragedy. It is now a fading memory of a bygone era to which we can only reminisce and lament. The Department was doing what it does best, take without reason.

A year later, however, the music room was poised to make a comeback. A miraculous recovery only experienced by coma patients in daytime dramas. Back but strangely different.

Within a month what equipment survived was dug out of storage, dusted off by caring hands, and tuned to perfection. As prisoners we are professionals at improvising with what we have for what we lack.

Some 47 prisoners prepaid the quarterly fee to participate in the program. 47 harmony starved souls flooded the gate. The dilemma? Scheduling the desires of those 47 into full band and practice slots constrained by the immortal limits of time and space.

This marks the true beginning of this tale...

It is a cool, quiet evening. A soft breeze blows through the open bars of my cell front. With it comes the smells and sounds of a hundred year old prison block slowly settling down for the night. The jingling of antique keys against a guards leg as he makes his last round, a burst of laughter from the tier above, and on the breeze the aroma of a well cooked summer sausage.

It is about nine o'clock, well after lockdown, when the Recreation Specialist steps up to my porch. He's not a uniformed guard but he's a cop all the same. He's wearing plain clothes and a baseball cap. I can tell by the look on his face this is not where he thought he would be spending his evening. I am already stripped to my skivvies and under the covers enjoying a little zombie box before checking in. He, clearly not expecting to find me so early in the bunk, excuses himself and starts explaining his interruption.

He does his best to avoid my disdainful gaze as he states, "Mr. Cox, I've recently received your quarterly payment for the music program. I'm sure you already know that we have limited band and practice slots. Some Offender's (That's the term they use to degrade us, we are in a state of perpetual offense) only want access to practice slots, and that's good because we have a lot of them. However, we only have one band slot per time block. If you want one of those you may only get one a week."

After a slight pause with no response from me he goes on and asks the question he came to ask,
"What do you want to do in the music room?"

(Foolish Mortal, he should have known better)

After but a moment's consideration I throw off my covers, with a flourish a bull fighter would be proud of, and leap proudly to my feet. Still in my tighty-whities. I take one aggressive step to my cell front and grasp my cage firm enough to make it rattle in its hundred year old tracks. With an age worn rebel scowl I look the Rec Specialist dead in the eyes, allowing him no escape from his folly. And in my best Dee Schneider falsetto I sing out,

"I WANNA ROCK!"

The entire block falls silent. The Rec Specialist, clearly shaken by my enthusiasm quickly takes a step away from the open bars and stares that stare of surprise people get when a too long caged animal refuses to eat. That innocent stare of shock, as though they are oblivious to this clear departure from sanity. 
Realizing my cage door still holds he collects himself and asks further, "So... you want a band slot?"

To which I reply, "That'll do."

Eighth born son of Vadani and Silaqui Nailo. Raised in the elven forests of Nodria and trained by his uncle Enialis
Liadon to be a ranger. Aramil, known by his friends as Revion (to wander) would often be gone for days exploring the
mountains around his home. Even though quiet and preferring to be alone, when amongst friends he is open, playful,
and trusting. Enjoying winter wine, dark haired lasses, and lakeside mornings.

The event that most informed his youth was the death of his good friend Mátamelcan (strong worker).
Mátamelcan persuaded Aramil to take him on one of his journeys into the mountains. While crossing a narrow cleft on
the side of a mountain the stone gave way under Mátamelcan’s feet. There was nothing Aramil could do but watch his
lifelong friend fall. After that Aramil would never allow anyone to accompany him into the mountains. The guilt he felt
for his friend’s death haunted him for several years.

Unbeknownst to Aramil war has broken out in Sedaria. A brutal war. Entire cities are labeled as either rebellious
to the Republic or rebellion sympathizers. Men, women, children, are being put to the sword, their homes burned for
nothing more than where they plant their crops. Companies of mercenaries have been hired handle the slaughter. When
their brutality becomes too much for the good consciousness of the people the Republic brands them as outlaws.
Denouncing any connection to them. Claiming that they are nothing more than brigands come to plunder their good
country. Bounties offered for their decimation are usually collected by other mercenary companies.
It is one of these hunter companies that shapes Aramil’s destiny. While exploring the northern woods of Nodria
Aramil spots a small group of humans. He follows them for some time, watching, listening, pondering their intent. After
two days of tracking them in circles Aramil concludes that these stupid humans, aren’t all humans stupid, are lost.
Moreover, they are killing every animal they come across for food or sport. Aramil decides that they need to be led out
of his forest. On the dawn of the third day the company’s commander comes out of his tent to find him sitting in the
center of their encampment. It was this arrogance that sealed Aramil’s fate.

The company, known as the Jomsvikings, was indeed lost and in need of a guide. But why pay for something you
can take? After a brief struggle, in which Aramil suffers two broken ribs and a cracked orbital socket, he is told that he
can win his freedom through service. Stripped of weapons and food, injured beyond his ability to resist, Aramil is at their
mercy and agrees to their terms.

Once the commander is satisfied that Aramil is properly subdued he allows him to have his bow and three
arrows. Enough to defend himself against any woodland creature but not enough to cause any real harm to the
company. For the next six months Aramil guides this group of foul humans through Nodria. He witnesses the slaughter
of his people and his innocence. Eventually he becomes inured to it. At the end of this time Aramil has but a single arrow
remaining, the first fled in the side of a Velanto Niandon (land shark), the second over a cliff.
Aramil realizes that he could cause the most damage to his captors by gaining their trust. He begins helping
them plan ambushes of rogue companies. Setting up the killing ground and leading them to the slaughter. Few escape
and many thumbs are collected. The Jomsvikings are happy to let Aramil be the face followed into their traps. The few
that do escape spread the tale of Angha Bodhr, the bringer of destruction. On one occasion Aramil manipulates two
rogue companies into fighting each other. It wasn’t until dawn that they realized the deception.
Eighteen months into his pressed service Aramil stumbles across a skeletal finger piercing the duff. Pointing at
him almost in accusation. Pointing in the direction of his home. A ray of light, like a beacon, appears filtered through the
forests canopy shinning on untarnished steel a few feet away. As though Andra herself is revealing his path. Under the
duff are the skeletal remains of a long dead elf warrior. Clad in silvery breastplate this beacon of hope has rested
through the eons to offer Aramil redemption. Further digging reveals amongst other gear an elven thinblade, upon
which is engraved “Ken cín emel” (know your heart), a long bow, and a quiver embroidered with the name “Devraen
manui arros” (Devraen of the unending arrow). A name of legend, a lost hero of a bygone era. The light of Andra offering
freedom.

Equipped with the trappings of a hero Aramil, now truly Angha Bodhr, returns to the small band he is guiding
and without hesitation or warning takes their lives, their thumbs, his vengeance, and his freedom.
From their Angha Bodhr uses the very skills taught him by the Jomsvikings to help his people route them from
his homeland.

Sent as an emissary to Gadorah (not the correct spelling, will fix later) in search of aid in protecting Nodria from these invaders.

Hi everyone, and by everyone I mean Symon and Thorfinn, I want to expand upon some of what DM and Kearse said in the Homework/Cargo thread. I hope this helps a bit with some of the backstory and detail.

* The standard wages for the crew on this ship now carry a bonus. Bahiyya (and Kearse, I think) authorized this. This is because bad news got around -- the storm, the 50% crew death rate, and the flight of 2/3 of the merchants. In game terms, this meant a -5 reputation penalty when it came to hiring. It turns out that boosting reputation has a price, and that price is exactly 3 sp per sailor. I felt that a few silver pieces were a fair trade in order to get rid of the tarnished reputation. Consider it "silver polish."

* Speaking of crew: yes, 72 sailors. "The hell ... !?" you say. Well, here's the deal: when we went out last time, we had a much smaller crew. Losing 1/2 of that crew meant that we couldn't realistically sail onwards. That's why we're back at this port. Also, shifts can be spread out better amongst a larger crew, leaving the sailors more well-rested, and boosting morale among the ranks. This means they will work better, and less likely to mutiny. Plus, a surplus of crew means that we have more people to draw from if there is illness and/or death. This means we can keep going instead of turning back again.

In other words, Symon, I am living my dream by doing EXACTLY WHAT CORPORATE AMERICA REFUSES TO DO IN ITS HIRING PRACTICES UP YOURS CORPORATE AMERICA not that I'm bitter or anything.  

Anyway, more crew = higher morale; better work; less mutiny; and a greater surplus/pool in case **** goes south again.

* Speaking of crew again: Did you know that there is a Seafarers' Guild? There is. They have nifty tattoos, indicative of membership and rank, and you can see these tattoos when you get into Fantasy Grounds again. Sailors who aren't guild members aren't necessarily bad, but I think the captain had a preference for guild members in good standing, especially ones of higher rank/experience. Ex-guild members -- those who have had their membership revoked by the guild due to bad behavior -- are obviously not desirable, and we weeded out at least one of those during the hiring process.

* Remember Oleg, the soldier from Onostia who sailed with us before as Hanter the Merchant's bodyguard? Oleg also accompanied us to the derelict Mary Celeste, I mean, Alexandra. Oleg is sailing with us again, y'all! Apparently he bought out his own mercenary contract and is no longer beholden to that merchant anymore. He likes the Acacia and wanted to sail with it again. He was worried about not being a Guild member, but Bahiyya found him on the docks and encouraged him to apply. She put in a good word for him, but the captain is pleased to hire him anyway, due to his past experience and his familiarity with the ship. Hurray! Thorfinn, did you know that he has a daughter of around Aurora's age?

* Speaking of merchants: only Lyrlord will be with us for the redux voyage. Hanter and Ercell cut their losses and bailed.