I never realized how well Beowulf works as a SWM adventure.

I never realized how well Beowulf works as a SWM adventure. I just thought about it: it works! Really, really well. Can't you just picture how the mood swings from Jovial to Glum and so on?

Taryb of Family Bacchus

Taryb of Family Bacchus  

All that is deserving of a name:
Bands of Iris - circlets of a golden-hued metal worn on the ends of each of the four major limbs. They allow the wearer the gracefulness of purple, the strength of black, the elation of yellow and the power of red.
The Ville of a Thousand Delights - The raucous and joyous city over which the family of Bacchus ruled before their abdication and where Taryb lives and loves still.
Coins of a Thousand Faces - Monetary mementos of Taryb's deeds and misdeeds across the continent, bearing the faces of a thousand different kings, chieftains and gods.
The Rusted Lock - a salt-encrusted relic from the gods of sea and slumber. Irremovably affixed to a kelp-green sash buried amongst Taryb's more finely colored ones. Its key may be inside the gullet of a twin-snake-headed vulture god of the frog people.

Feats Heroic
Jovial - Taryb bursts into song, stirring the hearts of all who hear her to her cause and rattling the stuff of reality with her raucously booming voice.
Glum -   

Trick
Locus - The Ville of a Thousand delights is never far from Taryb's mind, nor her body. She may call upon this trick to have a scene set in the town of her birth.

Tales of Taryb
8-10-14 Taryb, Umsa and Grost stubble upon the funeral rites celebrating the death of the Iron Lord. Seventeen urns were placed upon the black sand beach to be cast into the salty sea. An assortment of motley colored tents stood upon the sands and a menagerie of motley colored birds sang their songs to Taryb, along with a warning to not toss the Iron Lord's urns into the dark water. When this warning was not heeded, all at the funeral where put at risk and our roguish trio had much work to do to save them. Umsa and Grost fought off the reconstituted Iron Lord who was now part maritime monstrosity while Taryb saved the citizens from a pit of agonizingly slow quicksand.

8-17-14 Taryb makes an unlikely pairing with Lord Maltivar (who himself bears no little resemblance to the Iron Lord). The duo head for a rendezvous with the Duke of Woodriff's war band, but find themselves separated from their goal by a chasm. On the other side prowl hellhounds attracted by the scent of sin and at the bottom arise driftwood-boned spectres bearing the likeness of the dead kings, chieftains and gods that adorn the coinage Taryb had earned on her previous exploits. Taryb pulled Lord Multivar from a watery pocket dimension and found herself riding a bucking hellhound. Lord Multivar grabbed his neon green and with the rousing strains of Metal Opera echoing his black plate, drove for the heart of a terrifying giant wood-and-stone ogre that followed our heroes out of the pocket dimension. He arched through the air, leading a wave of hellhounds who were hot on the scent of the sin of his pride, including the hellhound Taryb herself still clung to tightly. AND SCENE.

9-7-14 Taryb, Grost, The Scythian, Arah and Dario found themselves on a treasure laden ship borne upon a storm tossed sea. Huge, menacing forms glared out from beneath the waves with their doom-lit eyes. Propelled by these creatures, a huge column of water shot the collapsing vessel aloft. Taryb enclosed the rogues in a bubble of color drawn down from a slim rainbow as the boat finally fell apart. The five shipwrecked rogues stumbled toward the city of Eevesdown where Quince, captain of the Thieves’ Guild, awaited his cut of the treasure that now rested on the ocean floor.  Quince is not known for his compassion towards those in his debt. Fortunately, The Scythian discovered that the rogues had something else of worth – their stories. The Eldritch Elder who dwelled in the top of the tallest tower would compensate those who came to him for the power of their tales. Taryb, for the sheer joy of it, decided to trade in a lie: the story of how the rogues defeated the glowing eyed forms beneath the waves. The Eldritch Elder said that all spoken in his chamber was truth, so this story must become truth as well. The shadowy forms emerged from the corners of his tower room as seawater poured in from none knew where. Thinking quickly, Dario the bard began recounting a new story of how the rogues defeated the threat and as he narrated it, it came to pass. All the rogues traded in stories to the weird merchant – all except Grost who discovered he could not part with his memories of Lennay. He also discovered the reason for this and for why he was spared the destruction that befell the rest of his homeland: he was to re-form it.  Arah looked into the mind of the Eldritch Elder and discovered that he was one with the God of Sea & Slumber, who wished to see our rogues give up their vibrant ways and achieve calmness beneath the waves. And though she descended below the sea’s surface, Taryb did not find calmness. In fact, she found nothing. Taryb managed to spend every coin she earned by tale telling to launch an expedition to recoup the coins lost to the sea bottom, yet failed to find a single one. Oh, the life of a rogue is such.

9-14-14 (Michael Miller's words as I forgot to record this one) The PVC scrap raft, laden with rowers. The grapples and raiders in the sail-powered aircraft carrier. Curved weapons and anchors. The polygon of levitation drawn on the water’s surface by The Scythian and Oshala. Umsa claiming a curved coral spear of the frogmen—which bites its weilder. Oshala challenging the storm spirit, and losing! Eyes bloodshot with crimson lightning. Cast to the depths through the eye of the maelstrom. Ocean as undulating ceiling. Becoming agents of the ancient, bone-spurred wizard-whales. Working with Taryb to cast down the prophet from the unblinking nuclear-powered lighthouse. The short-lived gratitude of long-lived wizard-whales. Umsa weilding the lighthouse itself to bat away the lightning. The Scythian soothing the storm with song while Taryb becalmed the sea with blood, sinking into the waves to join the gods of sea and slumber. 

1-4-15 Taryb, a pawn in the scheme of the gods of sea and slumber, is offered up as a sacrifice to the frog people's twin-snake-headed vulture god to usher in the new year. She is imprisoned in a gilded cage that the frog people carry up a pole to the moon and their waiting god. The Sythian and Gammora attend the raucous festivities. While Gammon attempts to teach the frog people the True Song of the Moon, the Scythian scales the pole to free Taryb. Taryb hears Gammon’s song, and while it is a true song of the moon, the moon has two true songs - waxing and waning. Taryb takes out her pipe and plays the song of the waning moon. All who hear it slowly slump into slumber: frog people reveling, the Scythian scaling, and the god Vultwin attempting to devour Taryb from both ends. The monstrosity descends into slumber and topples from its pole, tearing the gilded cage asunder as it falls and freeing Taryb as she finishes her song.

We rejoin our heroes in a caravan, the twisted cage used as payment to Abra, the caravan’s stout and curly-haired headmistress. The Scythian observes her carefully and realizes she is an agent of the frogs and merely using Taryb as protection from the Vultwin, whose shadow cuts across the full moon. Taryb, drunk on vermillion liquor, gazes at the constellations that seem foreign. How long was she below the waves? And didn’t the moon previously move the opposite direction? 

Gammon finds himself among riches untold, among which is a jewel-egg with a the shadow of baby Vultwin inside. The frogs try to seize it and it drops from Gammon’s grasp even as he tears apart his attacker in a shower of gore. A massive frogman emerges from the crowd seeking retribution. He, too, falls to Gammon.

At the head of the caravan, Abra whispers forlorn words into Taryb’s ears and brandishes a salt-encrusted key. Could this open the lock affixed to the kelp-green sash? And if so, what would happen? Taryb does not wait to find out and instead of offering up the lock, wraps the sash it is attached to around Abra’s neck and pulls slowly and inexorably. The Scythian tries to persuade Taryb to disengage, but it is too late; the trio is lifted into the air by the Vultiwn. The heads chomp and all three are encompassed in the venom-drench mouth. Abra’s hand opens and the key slides down the gullet. Taryb dives down, tethered by the kelp-green sash. The Scythian hauls her upward and tired of soothing words, slices the Vultwin’s head off clean from the inside. The severed husk falls to the ground with Taryb and the Scythian cradled in its concavity. The powerful venom, separated from its system, melts the flesh from the skull and the duo find themselves sitting in an inverted cage of bone. Taryb regards her hands, empty.

1-18-14 (Many words borrowed from Michael Miller) The traveling wizard’s tower, closed for the night. A single light in an upper window. Dario boosting Gammon’s impossible leap to the roof. The rogues down the chimney. A serpent, scaled in crimson and gold, writhing and throwing heat in the hearth. Dario soothing the beast with his ocarina.

Flashback: Taryb in the marketplace. It is outdoors, but covered by so many ad-hoc roofs that they blot out the sun and the moon.  She is trying to sell a mysterious bag of untold treasure to each merchant. They shake their heads and she moves on, and, on, and on until she finds herself in the desert beside the wizardarium. The horned wizard buys it from her.

In the wizard’s tower, patrolled by lynxes that stalk the walls and ceilings. The upper greenhouse, resplendent with greenery. Taryb finds a pool carved of rock from the ocean floor. Within is the treasure she sold the wizard, a pearl the size of a bowling ball inscribed with events of the Wizarding Whales which cannot be sung of. Her hand dipped into the water. A finger-length eel with angelfish fins slips seamlessly under Taryb’s skin.

Months later our rogues clinging to a decaying steel building frame. The girders covered with flowering vines. Gator-apes in bronze age armor howling and throwing spears chasing them up. A hurled spear hitting a flower. An explosion of color and seed-shrapnel. The building’s creak. A sheet of green vines peeling off with a rogue hanging out like a fruit.

From one building to the next, but those are not vines – they are eels. Rogues ferried to the mother eel, a gaping maw of darkness inside the swirling morass of eels.
The eel inside Taryb, grown to enormous lengths, leaps from her throat to protect its host.

The rogues covered in eel-gore. The numberless dark eels cannot sense them. Gammon mesmerizes the eels with dance, finding the moves to part their sea.

Outside, the horned wizard and his tower. “The pearl can never return to you, Taryb.” “I have something to return to you, horned one.” Wrist clasped to wrist. The too, too long angelfish-finned eel writhing out of her wrist into his. The horned wizard receiving all the numberless dark eels into his modest carpetbag.

Dario, certain the gator-apes want only the other building, ignoring their attentions. Their armor glinting in the starlight as they carry him off.

Taryb, weakened and uncoordinated, leaning on Gammon. “This was just another long game of the wizard-whales, wasn’t it, my friend?” “What isn’t?” Lifting Dario’s dropped ocarina. “We don’t dance to their tune.” A single high-pitched note. The greenhouse windows growing bright. Flames consuming the top floor of the wizard tower, the crimson and gold serpent writhing within.

Days later A discarded snake skin. A charred ruin of the oceanic pool. A soot-stained pearl, unseen amidst the rubble.

A year later Dario’s ballad of the gator-apes, sung from the lips of everyone.

1-25-15 The blood-veined map, the serpents of lava, He Who Was Small but Ambitious, and the treasures that raised a sunken city.
https://plus.google.com/117516100985204134844/posts/BHa5CzaxPHS

2-8-15 The Neon Knights and a Wizard Whale Trap https://plus.google.com/u/0/+MichaelMiller1000/posts/bHDsdYZWwXw?cfem=1

PvP in Swords?

PvP in Swords?

Sometimes even Fafhrd and the Grey Mouser found themselves at the pointed end of each other's sword. How would you handle this in SwoM? Has anyone had it happen?

The Thunder & Storm mechanics work wonderfully for Overplayer threats, and the occasional stymie adds flavor to the Rogues' stew of success, but what of the occurrence of the Storm being a PC and two Rogues not both being able to get what they want? The dice are generally not used as tools of conflict resolution, so should they be so employed here?

Tough questions.

Help me answer them?

Grost Im'Grupp, Doomed Armsman

Grost Im'Grupp, Doomed Armsman

He strikes onward, the blackened ruin of Lennay kept ever in his mind.

Image from http://klauspillon.deviantart.com/art/Sketch-18-03-13-360237421

All that deserves a name...
Minden: the shield inherited through four generations of my family
Crava: the ceremonial skirt worn by the Craglord’s guard
Lennay: the Kingdom of the Crags that lays in flames behind me
Ogga-Shan: the Specter of the Reaper who waits at the end of all our roads, who stands before me in my darkest dreamings
The Power of the Iron Lord: (added 9/7/14) The pulsing green fevered lightning that dances to the revel of a song.
The Cult of the Caves: (added 2/1/15) A troop of deadly archers converted from my new domain, an underground bunker-city

Feats Heroic
Burial of the Crava [Glum]: As one last dedication to the Craglord, I lay down my crava, the final remnant of Lennay.
Long Thread of Memory [Glum]: I still myself and call forth the dying magic bound up in the old adventures I've taken.
Blood of Grupp [Jovial]: Filled with a zeal for the fight, I loose my blade and let fly the blood of my foes, as their weapons spill my own blood in a glorious dance of battle.
Leap of the Bat [Jovial]: Leaping as though aloft, I dive upon my foe with fearsome intensity.
Power of the Iron Lord [Jovial]: The music of a reverie plays in my mind as green lightning pulses from my arms.
Assemble the Guard [Jovial]: Call forth warriors to my aid, by letting out a great cry. Rally to the Craglord!
Breath of Frost [Jovial]: I draw upon the lingering touch of the void-beast in my heart, unleashing my magic as a torrent of cold!

Trick
Doom — Why was I spared from the desolation of Lennay? You may ignore one roll you just made to suffer a Mystery that leads to this question.
Born in Fire —Instead of waiting for a Discovery or Rogues’ Phase, you may add one name to your list of named after surviving a Perilous Phase with the named.
-Omen --write down a Thunder, some ill portent or distant threat. (An unnatural deathly chill) Before the Thunder is provided for a new phase, you may demand that it be this.

Tales of Grost
Venture of the Crags (July 28th, 2014): Grost and his crew returned to Lennay, and left behind its gates to the tolling of a great bell, having bested the scars of their pasts.

Venture of the Bats (August 3rd, 2014): (Sunday Morning Swords) Grost took up with a new band of Rogues, who were all set upon by traitorous bat-riders, then infiltrated the castle of Duke Khaled. He found within him the capacity for great leadership, and then the Duke's castle began plummeting into the ocean.

Venture of the Frenzied Revel (August 10th, 2014): (Sunday Morning Swords) Grost and a new slate of fellow Rogues stumbled upon a funereal celebration of the evil Iron Lord. A sorceress appeared, there was feverish dancing, there were many colors, the Iron Lord reconstituted in the seas, and Grost ripped forth the Iron Lord's power to claim it for himself. Sadly, Minden was lost within the quicksand created by the Iron Lord's power.

Venture of the Tales (September 7th, 2014): (Sunday Morning Swords) A water beast struck down the treasure-laden ship of Grost and his companions, and when they washed up, they found themselves faced with a great Spire inhabited by the Eldritch Elder, who buys tales for a strong price. Grost found himself face to face with the destruction of Lennay, which held him back from selling his tales. The Eldritch Elder told him his answer, at long last: "If Lennay is to live again, Grost must be the one to found it.." He began forging a new Lennay, striking a mountain's peak with the Iron Lord's power, wearing down its cap into a plateau.

Venture of the Bugs (September 9, 2014): (Sunday Morning Swords) When Grost and his companions ventured through a forest, they were beset by peculiar and massive flying bugs, directed by the radiation suit-wearing Saffron Queen, who captured them and put them in jars for preservation! Grost made a cowardly attempt to trick her by swearing fealty to her, but it was the wrath of the forest (and Dario's mutt!) that made the caves of the Saffron Queen come crumbling down. Also, Grost used the Power of the Iron Lord to temporarily control the bugs.

Venture of the Unnamed Crypt (February 1st, 2015): the Rogues were ambushed amidst a great walled ravine, and then were taken into custody by the cult of an underground city who revered the blood of Lennay. They were beset upon by a strange chilling creature from the void of the sky, and turned the tables on the cult, as Grost laid claim to the underground city and took members of the cult as his personal bodyguard.

Venture of the Stars (April 19th, 2015): caught in a tempest in sight of a tree that shapes the heavens, Grost and his companions were assailed by strange beasts, he was swallowed by an orca-man, and they then ascended the tree, becoming witness to cosmos and realities and wonderments scarcely dreamed of, stars without number and a great bird which devoured worlds and galaxies. They left behind the Scythian, and Grost finally laid his venturing to rest, taking the throne of Lennay, thinking from time to time upon the things he saw atop the tree.

So ends his tale.

Just played my first game, thanks to Keith Stetson.

Just played my first game, thanks to Keith Stetson. AWESOME. Also, I immediately started thinking about games that you could directly play with Swords vanilla, without even hacking the moods.

Capes Without Master: Somebody has gotta have thought of this already. Superheroes! It's totally the game for Peter Parker's webslinging antics! Be brooding and glum, then flip and be awesome and jubilant!
Vamps Without Master: Angsty existential dark thoughts vs. super-awesome supernatural powers! (Would also work for werewolves.)
Mythender Swords: This was my first idea, and it was prompted because the action in SWM immediately reminded me of how Mythender works, particularly when it comes to generating awesome action.
Shounen Without Master: Because, really, Glum and Jovial are too good of a fit for the tone of a shounen anime. (Maybe swap out Glum with Angry, or...maybe one of the characters just has Unparalleled and replaces Glum or Jovial with Angry.)

Also, Swords is definitely going to be one of the key influences to a game design I'm working on. That passing-the-dice thing, I was already doing something a bit like it.

Eidolon!

Eidolon!

Originally shared by ALAS SUPERSONICAS

EVEN Amundsen

Music for Adventure.

Music for Adventure.
Epic Legendary Intense Massive Heroic Dramatic Music Mix
Vol. 4 Epic Legendary Intense Massive Heroic Vengeful Dramatic Music Mix - 1 Hour Long

Most Beautiful and Powerful Mix, Vol. 1
2-Hours Epic Music Mix | Most Beautiful & Powerful Music - Emotional Mix Vol. 1

#SundayMorningSwords
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B7zPiF149q8

Sunday Morning Swords: 27 July 2014

Sunday Morning Swords: 27 July 2014

Good morning!

Here's our organizational thread. Comment below if you're interested in playing this morning and mention if you're comfortable being an Overplayer and whether or not you have play Swords before.

When we get an Overplayer and three or four Rogue Players, those players will run off and start their hangout. For now, let's focus on getting everyone into a group. We'll probably wait until 9:15 or 9:30 to start the last group. I will be a swing player, jumping in where needed to fill out the final groups so we can make sure we have 3-4 Rogue Players in each group.

Feel free to enjoy some breakfast or brunch while playing. I know I'll be having some coffee and toast with marmalade, myself.

Also, feel free to use the hashtag   #SundayAMSwords  should you desire to chat about your game on the social medias.

P.S. Got some tips on how to do this and links to useful files here: http://www.worldswithoutmaster.com/blog/2014/7/14/sunday-morning-swords
http://www.worldswithoutmaster.com/blog/2014/7/14/sunday-morning-swords

I had forgotten that my mud run is this Sunday!

I had forgotten that my mud run is this Sunday! I will be absent from #SundayAMSwords as will Stras Acimovic.  This means we need new blood. We need your blood.

9AM Eastern time tomorrow morning. Show up here and have some of the most fun you'll ever have in sword & sorcery roleplaying!

Used Vincent Baker's Sundered Lands: Night Watch as an excellent addition to SWM tonight.

Used Vincent Baker's Sundered Lands: Night Watch as an excellent addition to SWM tonight. In our campaign we were longing for more backstory and conversation than is possible in a typical discovery phase and so began our play with Night Watch tale-telling followed by a 2 hour SWM session. It was a blast! The themes of the stories told bled into our SWM play, making it one our best sessions ever.

We chose the title, eidolon, overtrick, and tale requirements before playing Night Watch which helped everything mesh across systems. The whole thing took 4.5hrs, I highly recommend trying this if you've got a regular SWM game!

Perhaps Alex Carlson, Chris Larabee, Molly Forsythe, or Adam McConnaughey have stuff they want to add?

I propose the Overtrick Philandering Rogues:
Swords and Sorcery is not honor-bound to one dice-laden mistress! Rogue characters may travel between role-playing games, provided they return to Swords Without Master within one session of play.

Yes!

Yes!

Originally shared by ALAS SUPERSONICAS

Grzegorz Przybyś

Last Sunday we had our second session of Sunday Morning Swords and it was chock-full of psychedelic, 70s...

Last Sunday we had our second session of Sunday Morning Swords and it was chock-full of psychedelic, 70s post-apocalyptic sword & sorcery cartoon goodness. As one might expect.

This is just a little informal poll to see what times work best for folks should they decide to join in. It's two questions long. Are you willing to be an Overplayer and when on your Sunday morning would you be able to start? Times should be given in UTC so that we're all using the same math. If you're currently on Daylight Savings Time, take that into account. We'll deal with the fall when it comes.

So far, both games of Sunday Morning Swords have taken about an hour, after about an hour of getting organized, settling in, and making rouges. In total, roughly two hours. I suspect once we get some practice in, it'll only take an hour and change from your Sunday morning.

Wild Shen

Originally shared by Matthew Caulder

Wild Shen

All that Deserves a Name:

The Three: the three preserved skulls dangling from his axe. They were enchanted to contain the spirits of those I have slain to let me call on them for knowledge
The Symbol of Ark-a-tal: The boar-faced belt buckle he wears. It is the symbol of a champion of his people, this one signifying strength.

Feats Heroic:

Glum:  Drenched in blood, some of it his, Shen steels himself against the pain and re-enters the fray.
Jovial: The eyes of Ark-a-tal glow gold as Shen draws on it’s power, darting from foe to foe, cleaving pieces of them off as he goes

Trick:
Omen – The Three are wreathed in blue flame and chatter incoherently.

For anyone needing roguish inspiration for #SundayAMSwords (or otherwise).

For anyone needing roguish inspiration for #SundayAMSwords  (or otherwise).
http://www.pinterest.com/blazmointowowee/inspirational-fantasy-art/

Sunday Morning Swords: 20 July 2014

Sunday Morning Swords: 20 July 2014

Good morning!

Here's our organizational thread. Comment below if you're interested in playing this morning and mention if you're comfortable being an Overplayer and whether or not you have play Swords before.

When we get an Overplayer and three or four Rogue Players, those players will run off and start their hangout. For now, let's focus on getting everyone into a group. We'll probably wait until 9:15 or 9:30 to start the last group. I will be a swing player, jumping in where needed to fill out the final groups so we can make sure we have 3-4 Rogue Players in each group.

Feel free to enjoy some breakfast or brunch while playing. I know I'll be having some coffee and a cinnamon roll, myself.

Also, feel free to use the hashtag  #SundaySwordsAM  should you desire to chat about your game on the social medias.

P.S. Got some tips on how to do this and links to useful files here: http://www.worldswithoutmaster.com/blog/2014/7/14/sunday-morning-swords
http://www.worldswithoutmaster.com/blog/2014/7/14/sunday-morning-swords

Bjärne, Master of Hounds

Bjärne, Master of Hounds

All that deserves a name:

* Relentless and Faithful, the two gray hounds. Long limbed and with an almost preternatural nose, they are incredibly attentive, precise in following a trail, and able to communicate with you with almost human complexity just with a wary look or a flop-tongued doggy grin.

Feats Heroic: 

Jovial: You whistle commands to the hounds that dart towards the pray baying with abandon. With nowhere to run, confused, you are able to strike it down with your short sword.

Glum: In the murk of the hour before dawn, a hidden foe stalks, creeping towards you. But Faithful's hair stands on end, and Relentless starts a basso growl, almost subsonic. You are ready for battle.

Trick: Inevitable Foe. The Manticore that stalks the woods around your village. Few that have seen it have survived, but 'tis not a legend, and you and your hounds will one day claim it as game.

This is happening again this Sunday.

This is happening again this Sunday. I'll be online at 9 A.M. EDT, but I encourage folks in other time zones to swing by whenever their Sunday morning is and see if they can fire up their own game.
http://www.worldswithoutmaster.com/blog/2014/7/14/sunday-morning-swords

#julyroguechallenge

#julyroguechallenge

It's called the Floating Island, among other things. When the morning fog off the coast burns off, there it is. It just... is. No one's ever gone there to see what is it. Or, more specifically I suppose, no one's ever come back to tell us what it is. But someone always goes. Someone always must go when it appears off the coast of their town. Someone always feels the irresistible, ineffable urge to voyage to the island. When morning's first fisherman spots the island's spire jutting forth from the dissolving mist he will run back to the village and raise a cry to warn the others. Some will fall to their knees and beseech the heavens that it be not them who is called. Others will strap themselves to their rude huts like a captain to his wheel in a storm. Still others will run or ride inland at the greatest haste they can manage. It does not matter; someone always goes to the island, although no one has ever come back.

#julyroguechallenge

#julyroguechallenge

The crops in this region do not grow in the fashion you may be used to in the lands from which you come. Here, our seeds sleep longer beneath the soil, still nourished by sun, still nourished by rain, but nourished too by the intricate magics of our floramancers. Then comes the summer solstice and all throughout that longest day our fields begin to writhe, to undulate, to heave, ripple and roll, tossing the long sleeping plants high in the air, their stalks and leaves barely connected to the ground by the umbilical cord of their roots.

So you see, of course, why we need your help. Though the day is long, our people's hunger is great, and we need every ounce of that produce...

http://sorcerersskull.tumblr.com/post/91838151831/art-by-chen-wei

http://sorcerersskull.tumblr.com/post/91838151831/art-by-chen-wei

LADY RETHEMNIS

All That Deserves A Name:

Goraque, her great war fowl.
Henshe, her home city on a cliff
Euminger, her court wizard

Feats Heroic:

Jovial: With a loud invocation to the Four Gods, Rethemnis descends upon the legionaires, skewering one and tossing his corpse on his fellows, to their great consternation.

Glum: Chivalry set aside, that she might spare her city from this beast, Rethemnis stole behind the impenetrably armored creature and straddled it, pulling the chain tight around its gullet, her knee against its neck, pulling silently, with all her strength, through its struggles, till they lessened and ended.

Trick:

Omen: Dark skies and far-off shrieks from the clouds.
http://sorcerersskull.tumblr.com/post/91838151831/art-by-chen-wei

H/T to Travis Scott for bringing this to my attention. More than anything, I'd love a Respite Phase here.

H/T to Travis Scott for bringing this to my attention. More than anything, I'd love a Respite Phase here.

Originally shared by Nature Photography

Rakotz Bridge in Kromlau, Germany

The village on the clouds

The village on the clouds
(for July's challenge)

They call it the village on the clouds, but its real name is Kingsbath.
Legend has it that a forgotten God-King, giant among mere men, stopped there one night after long travelling and demanded a hot, steaming bath.

The people of the small town, humbled and fearful, started boiling water with perfumed flowers, because they knew that enraging a God would have brought only disgrace to them. What they didn't know is that the God-King, not believing they were up to the task, had cast a sorcery on the whole town so that one bucket of steaming hot water would be multiplied thousandfold.

And so it was, that the sorcery multiplied the already abundant steam so much that a permanent hot cloud encircles the city from that day.

"And I know the story sounds made up, travelers, but believe old Sadekh, somewhere in that town there is still a shard of the God-King's power, I'm sure!"

Rogue eidolon:

Rogue eidolon:

Umsa the Zook

All that is Named
Petril - his bonded steed that he raised from a hatchling

Gauntlets of K'trath - gift from one of the Ancient Ones, endow supernatural strength

The Snake Helm - Booty from the Wizard of Tarn Mountain's lair 
http://38.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_ma7appceao1ryfivao1_500.jpg

Radictiv - The lense from the abandoned Russian lighthouse that Umsa wielded against the God of Storm and Slumber.\
http://englishrussia.com/2009/01/06/abandoned-russian-polar-nuclear-lighthouses/

Trick
Omen: Ill Fate. Lesson: "The enemy of my enemy is not always my friend."

Omen: Curse of the Raven Queen on me and my descendants 
https://www.dropbox.com/sh/np92y6b3di95y30/AADYl0ncVmuOu0AIYju2RuzXa#lh:null-115.jpg-

Omen: A mighty, purple-and-black clad sorceress from another world has dropped through an interdimensional crack, wreaking havoc in her attempts to get back home. 

Feats Heroic
Jovial - Drinking to the health of the gods in all the Realms and Dimensions; Tossing many enemies up into the air.

Glum - Silently stalking enemy or prey

https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivtWEwHQJbGb77SS4VU0MuninycV4_XaiMSf3sYBZaerFB0Ul6UNgs-9oLgdNrJAILDQJoIVtsOnPdA0Vcwp2xDLWabQHgVMxZdUvUS5DK5w8vA-xo-hNlmj6NEiidDMwwxfAPrXByqFM7/s320/ookla.jpg


Tales of Umsa
The Price of Magic (October 26, 2014)
With Dario Peregrino the bard and Gammon (known as He Who Whispers to Relics) take the great lens Radioactiv to the White Tower. Re-activate a feud between the 2 factions of the ancient ones and Gammon pays the first price of Magic, flies to the heavens in the White Tower with necronauts, great-winged lizard creatures and an un-named green-glowing horror. 

Betwixt the Storm and the Sea  (September 14, 2014)
Traveling by sea Umsa and companions Oshala, Taryb and the Scythian escape from Pirates, only to be caught in the wrath of the God of Sea and Slumber and an ancient Whale sorceress who creates a bubble of dry land under the sea to save them. Umsa bats away a deadly red lightning bolt with a nuclear lighthouse into harmless rainbow bolts. 

Funeral of the Iron Lord (August 10, 2014)
Threw the parts of the vanquished Iron Lord into the ocean, and encountered the wrath of the Otherworldly Sorceress, whom he trapped in this world by destroying her staff. 

Missile to Mars (July 27, 2014)
Warned to destroy an ancient missile, Umsa, his companion, Juntz are AND A POLAR BEAR, are sent to the Rat People's colony's new homeland on Barsoom.

The Giant King's Empire
Hunting priests with Zobar and Kalkar, and facing execution.  After being freed, toasting to all the gods of a many-peopled empire. Then facing down giants and a God in the form of multi-colored smoke, inhaled to save us by Kalkar the priest.

*

#SundayMorningSwords
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivtWEwHQJbGb77SS4VU0MuninycV4_XaiMSf3sYBZaerFB0Ul6UNgs-9oLgdNrJAILDQJoIVtsOnPdA0Vcwp2xDLWabQHgVMxZdUvUS5DK5w8vA-xo-hNlmj6NEiidDMwwxfAPrXByqFM7/s320/ookla.jpg

Kalkar the Barbarian

Kalkar the Barbarian

All that is Named
Zobar one of the reptilian cats of the Southron isles. It's pearlescent scales indicate a rare breed.

Nomek his axe. Less axe and more giant slab of metal. Kalkar is one of the few people that can lift it.

Trick
Unparalleled. Kalkar doesn't do Glum. He does Jovial, and Frenzied.

Feats Heroic
Jovial - With a 'Ho Nomek!' and a laugh, Kalkar swings his axe, it's sheer mass kicking up wind and shearing through obstacles.

Frenzied With blood pouring down face, Kalkar's eyes take on a golden hue. No longer the laughing he surges forward, cleaving through foes with a savage yell.

Sunday Morning Swords

Sunday Morning Swords

Good morning!

Let's use this thread to organize a bit. Comment below if you're up for playing this morning and mention if you're comfortable being an Overplayer and whether or not you have play Swords before.

When we get an Overplayer and three or four Rogue Players, those players will run off and start their hangout. For now, let's focus on getting everyone into a group. Emily Care Boss and I will be swing players, jumping in where needed to fill out the final groups so we can make sure we have 3-4 Rogue Players in each group.

Feel free to enjoy some breakfast or brunch while playing. I know I'll be having some coffee and a cinnamon roll, myself.

Also, feel free to use the hashtag  #SundaySwordsAM  should you desire to chat about your game on the social medias.

P.S. The Online Play Template may be of some use: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1UexjtyDtWkuCG-Aq8c-VG75xV90yvEwz0HMdMcuy8dg/edit?usp=sharing

As might the Trick Sheets: https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B4nYXSvbVX-AaS1qbHRzMzJvT28/edit?usp=sharing

Tamen Na, wandering priest and proselytizer of Rashen Na

Tamen Na, wandering priest and proselytizer of Rashen Na

Art by Eduard Visan

All that deserves a name:
Na Destrovo - Tamen's personal record of the sacred rite of Rashen Na, recorded in the textures, indentations, and extrusions of a well-crafted metallic object. Also, serves as his hammer.
Ibil-shen - The gold filigree insignia worn on one’s horn to indicate one’s priestly duties.
Rashen Na - A meditative life practice that connects all of Tamen Na’s people, living and passed
Laythana - Tamen Na’s spirit wife.

Feats Heroic
Glum: Tamen Na withdraws into himself, meditating on every aspect of the situation, synthesizing and calculating, before making one subtle move that changes the course of action.
Glum: Tamen Na lowers his center of gravity, squatting slightly, and lets forth a terrifying lo that freezes his foes in their tracks.
Jovial: Leaning back into the weight of Na Destrovo, Tamen Na cyclones himself across the field of action, toppling foes like trees in a storm.
Jovial: Lowering his gold-covered horn, Tamen Na hurtles forward, dropping down anyone and anything fool enough to stand in his way.

Trick
Canny cognition: Tamen Na can access the ancestral memory of his people through the rituals of Rashen Na. (Can demand discovery phase to show this off)

http://kaicarpenter.carbonmade.com/projects/5066442#2

http://kaicarpenter.carbonmade.com/projects/5066442#2

For some odd reason, I woke up this morning with the Galtar theme stuck in my head and it gave me an idea.

For some odd reason, I woke up this morning with the Galtar theme stuck in my head and it gave me an idea.

•   You can easily do a Swords game in less than two hours, right? Especially if everyone at the table has played before.
•   Mornings are a highly underused resource for roleplaying time.
•   For me, Saturday mornings were a time for Spider-Man cartoons and Land of the Lost.
•   But Sunday morning was a time for Thundarr and Galtar.

So I'd like to propose Sunday Morning Swords.

I'm going to try to get a cup of a coffee and some toast and get online around 9 A.M. EDT every Sunday morning that I can. If enough people join me, we'll whip up a two-hour Swords game on Google Hangouts. If more than enough people join me, we'll whip up additional, concurrent games. A little sword and sorcery in your Sunday morning.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pZP0s9lS2k0

Yeah thats an awesome setting

Yeah thats an awesome setting

Originally shared by ALAS SUPERSONICAS

Victo Ngai

How the guards roll in the City of Fire & Coin.

How the guards roll in the City of Fire & Coin.

Originally shared by ALAS SUPERSONICAS

C. Poppycock

I feel like Vb Wyrde's Literary RPG Society community has quite a bit of overlap with this Swords Without Master...

I feel like Vb Wyrde's Literary RPG Society community has quite a bit of overlap with this Swords Without Master group, especially in terms of locations. Check it out. https://plus.google.com/u/0/109710694905703914607/posts/JHx7YQ77QSA

Originally shared by La Belleza

Pöllat Gorge, Poland..

#JulyRogueChallenge (Gosh, I got a bit carried away. Sorry.)

#JulyRogueChallenge    (Gosh, I got a bit carried away. Sorry.)

The locals won't talk to you. Oh, they'll take your coin in exchange for a bed, a meal, watered-down wine, maybe even an old donkey that knows the way to the mountain. Rest assured, though, they won't be your guide, no matter how much money you're willing to pay. To be sincere, that's to be expected. The only prayers answered by the mountain are dark, twisted ones.

Maybe you've read about it in an old book, or maybe it was a stone tablet. Maybe it was a whisper heard among the market stalls, or in a dream. It doesn't matter. All it matters is that you reach the foot of the mountain, leave the donkey (it knows the way home), and walk.
The minute black rocks make crunching noises under your feet, and the light has a translucent, eerie quality.Your feet sink in the sand, making every step slow and deliberate. The silence and the monotonous black expanse leave you no company but yourself. You have plenty of time to think about why you're here. Plenty of time to ponder and consider. Plenty of time to turn back and put this place behind you.

It's also plenty of time to linger on every grievance, vengeance and pettiness, and if it wasn't for the abruptness of the sky surrounding you, you probably wouldn't realise you've made it to the top. You stop a moment, take in the landscape. A deep breath is cut short by the sulphurous miasma that creeps around you in lazy tendrils.
This means... yes, there it is. A white stone, so old and worn that it might be mistaken as part of the mountain, if its colour didn't set it apart. You close the distance and touch it, as if wanting to ascertain its reality. Your hand outlines what once was a bas-relief, but it’s impossible to discern what it depicted.

They told you how to do it, and it's so simple it seems a joke, a hoax: pray. Breathe the fumes, close your eyes, and focus your mind, will and soul into one purpose. Do it, and it will be granted to you, as long as your wish is harmful towards another.
You're not sure how long it's been since you closed your eyes. The haze makes every hour look the same, the sun invisible above smoke and clouds. Your mouth is parched dry. Right now, that wine doesn’t seem a bad idea. Your first step is a bit unsteady, but it won’t take long to go down, and maybe the donkey is still there… Cool wine and a warm bed, and sweet dreams of wrongs set right.
Your body feels tired, and your feet drag in the sand. It won’t hurt resting a bit against that tree, close your eyes just for a moment…

Night falls, and when the following morning the sun rises it’s as if you were never here. Maybe one of the villagers will say a prayer for your soul, or for your victim. Maybe someone swears that next time they’ll speak, try to dissuade the foolish stranger from climbing the mountain. They never do. Everybody knows that the whispers will always find a way. Aitho’s hunger is insatiable. 


(Inspiration: Mount Etna, Sicily)

Another real world eidolon.

Another real world eidolon.
http://www.thisiscolossal.com/2014/01/serpent-d-ocean-huang-yong-ping/

The wind blows on the plains of Armorican Brittany

The wind blows on the plains of Armorican Brittany,
I cast a last look on my wife, my son and my lands.
Akim the blacksmith's son has come to fetch me:
The druids have decided to make war in the valley.

And yes, it's a French rap song by some brittany kids: I hope that the foreign language of the song doesn't stop you people, because it's evocative as hell, IMO.

Check the full lyrics. One of the best bits is the warriors (really just farmers and artisans) receiving magic and blessings from the Druids... plus some good quaffs of mead "for courage, to avoid crying 'enough!'".

(the linked video is pretty low-quality, but this song has some 20 years now... the subtitles are dual language though)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JcmyWt92CtY

Perils: Carumuri

Perils: Carumuri
It is known that several citizens from the city of Splendors are afflicted by a singular sickness: The Carumuri.

Like a plague, those demonic parasite infest their host's body till they are strong enough to leave. Those who bear the plague are marked by a languid look, like melted flames.

Thunders
Jovial - behind a door a man screaming in pain, and soon after a frenzied scratching on the door.

Glum - people dancing and feasting in a public garden, but their passion and euphoria it is ephemeral. On their faces they carry the cumbersome shadow of their inescapable destiny.


(It is the first time I try to do something like that, forgive me if it is lame!)

#julyroguechallenge

#julyroguechallenge

the Halls of the Murmurers
You can almost hear them whispering, some say. Empty eyes looking at you. People use to came here to ask for good luck, for protection, guidance or whatever they can ask and be granted by the spirits of the dead. But not anymore. The Baron itself has forbidden that dangerous habit. Mortals have understood that they can't simply expect that their prays come true without a price to pay.
But not you, you still go down there. Unseen, like you were a spcetre. You still talk with them, caress their dusty skulls, because you are not afraid to give them what they want in return.


Real inspiration:
http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fontanelle_cemetery

Resharing for the Swords community, because I suspect this may also be of interest to you folks.

Resharing for the Swords community, because I suspect this may also be of interest to you folks.

Originally shared by Epidiah Ravachol

Is my wait over? Can it be?
http://www.fandompost.com/2014/07/01/dark-horse-previews-groo-vs-conan-miniseries/

#julyroguechallenge

#julyroguechallenge  

It looks like the inhabitants leaved the village in a hurry a few years back. Nature is taking over. You can hear parakeets singings is the trees above and behind you the sea loudly hits the cliffs. Slowly a regular thumping starts to cover up all noises. The birds suddenly go quite.

Passing the dice for a discovery phase.

#JulyRogueChallenge Eidolon-worthy Real Places

#JulyRogueChallenge  Eidolon-worthy Real Places

A Jovial tale

These lands were once ruled by a powerful woman, a Countess. She was strong and brave, donned armor and built sanctuaries. She was rich and wise, beloved and powerful.
Many knights fought beside her when she lead them in battle, many lords called her liege, many cities payed omage to her. She had many palaces, but she often was back to the castle of her father, where she was born, in the heart of her fiefdom, on the hills watching the plain.

She was so powerful to take war against an Emperor, who deescended with a powerful army and was defeated. Humiliated, the Emperor stood for three nights out of her ancestral castle, kneeling in the snow, begging forgiveness from her.
It was the apex of her glory and power.

But wisdom and bravery cannot anything against the wrath of an humiliated Emperor and the treachery of men.
Betrayed by her subjects, poisoned by the Emperor the Countess fell, never to stand again.

The spurned Emperor conjured storms and earthquakes to destroy the walls that witnessed his defeat and his humiliation and now only rubbles remains of an once proud castle.

But, really, can such a great woman as the Countess fade away like common men? She is still there, my son, sitting in judgement between the ruins, and she hasn't aged a day. She sits tall and proud on the throne that was her father's and her grandfather's, a beam of light and hope in the ruins. Castles crumble, greatness remains.
She sits in judgement and will answer with wisdom and justice to those who dare to ask, and will punish those who welcome lies and evil in their hearts, with thunder and light, with the sound of thousand spectral horsemen and with the trumpets of the very angels calling her men to charge against the unfaithfuls and the evil!

Castle of Canossa, Reggio Emilia
Inspired by history and local legends

#JulyRogueChallenge *Eidolon-worthy real places*

#JulyRogueChallenge  *Eidolon-worthy real places*

There is a city built on a rock.
On the rock there is no water, no river or creek. They collect rain, but it isn't enough. So they went and took their water... somewhere else.

There i a well. It's deep, large, long. You enter in it, with jugs and mules and walk its large steps, spiralling down, down, down, down forever. You start jovial and solar, you remember the light of the sun and the wind. After a couple of turn you start to realize that something is wrong. You feel the weight of the mountain over you, the air grows thick and wet. You cannot breath anymore. You have to stop, but the darkness calls you, down, down, down, down, forever down. Every step is torture, you are tired, you cannot breath.
You notice that nobody is coming up again. Were is the blonde guy that entered before you? Hasn't he reached the ground yet? Why that old couple entered half hour ago and you haven't them them coming back?

Then you see, a light, someone in front of you, a couple of turns. Your lungs ache, your skin crawls with humidity, you want to stap, to talk, to rest, to remember that a surface is still there. You walk faster, to meet with your friend, because you don't know her but she is a friend, you turn, turn, and turn again, and turn. Where is she? Why havent you meet her? You look and you see her again, upstairs, but you havent met.

You reach the bottom. At last. You cannot see the sun anymore. The sun is illusion, there only is the water, in the well and in the air. You fill your jugs and you keep going. The same way. You cannot make a mule turn in this a narrow path, you cannot go back.
You go ahead.
The road is the same, but now you are ascending.
It's worse than before.
It's far, far worse, with the weight of the mountain over you, with water and salt and moss and rock around you. Forever.

Then you are out. You are out from the same door you entered before. The sun and the wind still exist. You went down a well, not a big one, walked straight, you nevere turned around, you never stepped on the same stone twice, and you are back where you started.

They went and took the water where there is water. They went and took it somewhere else.

St. Patrick's Well, Orvieto
Inspired to the frigging real experience

#JulyRogueChallenge Eidolon worthy real places

#JulyRogueChallenge  Eidolon worthy real places

"You walked for more than 300 miles with it on your pack, and now that you see the place, you wonder if it was worth the effort. It is too late now to question the wisdom of your acts, you just get the pebble in your hand and throw it. The second it touches the ground you are unable to distinguish it from the million others piled around the cross. If this is an empty gesture, at least you are not alone at making it."

The "cruz de ferro" is place in the Santiago's way, a pilgrimage on the north of Spain. There is a tradition to carry a stone from your home place and throw it to the mound while facing the other way, as a symbol to have gone through the mountain pass.

#JulyRogueChallenge Eidolon-worthy Real Places

#JulyRogueChallenge  Eidolon-worthy Real Places

When a tyrant wants to build the biggest and mightest stronghold in the country he will crush his subjects with corvees and slave job.
This if you are one of the lucky ones.

If not the tyrant will be so cruel and callous to crush them literally, to use their houses and streets as the foundation of his stronghold, transforming a normal village in a dark, subterranean labyrinth, never to be seen or visited again.

Some says that when he did the act his guards killed everyone who tried to escape, he wanted the very souls of the villagers to defend his rock. They were trapped in their underground houses, they died there without seeing the sun again for the pride and ambition of their liege.

The sound you hear is the moaning of their vengeful souls roaming the halls.

Pick up dice

Rocca Paolina, Perugia
Inspired to historical facts

#JulyRogueChallenge Eidolon-worthy Real Places

#JulyRogueChallenge    Eidolon-worthy Real Places

Cool and fashionable h/t to Renato Ramonda 

You see that rock up there, young rogue? That enormous boulder in the middle of the valley? It looks natural to you? It looks like a hill or a mountain? It has been put there, I tell you! 

Look, look at the mountains. Not like that, in the right way! See? Is that a mountain to you? Look, that's a nose, a mouth. It has a belly, and feets, I tell you!

That's not a mountain, child, I tell you. That's the giant body of the King Of Thousand Demons. Once in an age, if you are unlucky, it will wake up that old body and walk the leand once again.

And that rock? That's Its Throne, I tell you! It will sit on Its Throne, holding court of demons and evils. 

Who knows what evil wonders will it leave behind, in those occasions? What dark magic? What cursed treasure? It's a dark place. People die on it, it thirsts for blood, I tell you!
You should be mad to go and try to climb such an evil place.

Pick up dice

Rock of Bismantova, Reggio Emilia
Inspired by a local legend

#JulyRogueChallenge Eidolon-worthy Real Places

#JulyRogueChallenge Eidolon-worthy Real Places

The Sea Prophet

"Listen to me, young man, I don't care if you are a perl diver of the western isles or the first mate of a huntship. And yes, I heard the story too, but to go and mess with the Sea Prophet is folly."

"Even assuming you can find a way to get a merfolk to owe you a debt, and that they are faithful and really loan you one of those necklaces that let you breathe water... assuming those even exist, and that those treacherous slippery bastards don't just drown you... why do you think the Prophet is made of Stone now?"

"Ah, you didn't think this through this far, I knew. Listen to me then: forget the Prophet, forget the Stone of the Eight Seas. It's not worth risking your life and those of your companions. Stay away and live."

#JulyRogueChallenge Eidolon-worthy Real Places

#JulyRogueChallenge Eidolon-worthy Real Places

The legends are contradictory: some say that she was a goddess that accepted to become stone to save the people that worshiped her.

Some instead tell of an ancient war in heaven and how the dreaded goddess of blood was struck with magic by the first of heroine of mankind, she who stole fire from the stars, but even her incantations could only freeze her in the state we see her now.

Nobody knows for sure. 
What you can be sure of, is that you saw the stone skin crack.
Picks up dice

Take an inspiration for this month's challenge.

Take an inspiration for this month's challenge. 

Originally shared by Amazing Places to See

Angel Falls is a waterfall in Venezuela. It is the world's highest uninterrupted waterfall, with a height of 979 m and a plunge of 807 m.

July Eidolon & Simulacrum Challenge

July Eidolon & Simulacrum Challenge

Inspired by Renato Ramonda's suggestion, this month's challenge is to pick a real world place and use it as an eidolon for a rogue or a tale.