Necrocarcerus Launched

Necrocarcerus is the new S&W game with the Emern crew, though we've recruited some new people and are back up to 7 people. This is post is purposefully a little vague, since some of my PCs read this blog and I don't want to give too much away about the setting.

The inspirations are mainly Dark Souls, Demon's Souls, Wraith: the Oblivion, and Bas-Lag, plus all those weird fashion photos I've been posting for the Dawnlands, though there's the usual grab bag of other weird stuff in there that'll come out over time.

The basic idea though, is that Necrocarcerus is where the souls ("pneuma") of people go when they die. There, they are sorted based on their moral qualities and passed onto a final destination appropriate to that quality. Those who are of "mixed" natures (being neither entirely good nor evil) are let loose in the City of Necrocarcerus to "live" until one tendency, either good or evil, predominates. Their memories of their former lives are vague, allowing them a fresh start to choose which way they will go. That may take centuries, or even aeons. Everything in Necrocarcerus is composed of pneuma, including plants, animals and equipment, and killing things lets you absorb some of their pneuma into yourself (i.e. XP) and turn the rest into equipment (a creature or person can be turned into an item with a cost equivalent to or less than their XP value).

So yeah, a lot of the tropes of Wraith: the Oblivion done using D&D. I never played Wraith except online once, but I always liked it. Each session until I get bored with doing it, the PCs will be drawing cards with various personal characteristics on them, representing the memories and tendencies of their past life returning. Some will provide XP for following them, some grant powers, and some will just be weird shit they can incorporate as they please. Because this is all stuff from their past life, they can choose to follow or not follow it as they please.

The first cards I handed out were vices, which was a misstep but with hilarious consequences. With seven PCs, I wrote up the seven vices, plus one "You're a perfectly decent person" card. The guy who got it asked to draw another, and did. This meant that the first session involved puke-bukkake, backbiting, and a discussion about who they should murder to turn into their first sets of equipment. After the session, I set a limit on claiming the XP reward from your vice to once per session. Morality started to rise to the surface and they decided to kill someone who had killed or harmed a child for their first gear, and the session involved penetrating the outer grounds of said kid-killer keep, which included a giant acid-spewing dog, some half-dead looking guys, and a charm person spell cast on a guy with no skin on his face. Nobody perma-died this session (outside of the set-up, I mean), though two PCs were dropped to 0 and had to make saving throws to avoid death.

I knew one of the new guys (first time roleplayer) was a natural when I said "You all have only vague memories of your past lives. You can't even remember your gods..." and he interrupted to say "Not me! Rogar worships Lupo the Wolf. Look, I wrote it down," and showed me where he had. I was beaming with pride.

Our heroes:
Sarah Beard, Assassin, who "is basically you as a woman" and wears a fur bikini
Rogar, Fighter, who "has a wolf-head hat" and worships "Lupo the Wolf" and carries a partisan
Logan the Huge, Paladin, who is "dressed like Bane from the movie"
Bathsheba, Wizard, who wears "a catsuit with a strapon"
Bruce Cocksucker (pronounced "Kosher"), Cleric, who "wears red robes and jewels and shit"
Carlos, Thief, who "is a fifteen year old kid and a pirate"
Dathun, Paladin, who "is dressed like Logan but with a yellow coat" and has a harm touch

Last session they were equipped with daggers, saws, hammers, a partisan, and some drills for handweapons. They managed to kill enough guards, stirges and acid-breathing giant dogs to get some swords and armour, and 500 ft. of rope.

Gonzo, here I come.

[Dawnlands] Your Friends and Neighbours, the Orthocracy

The Orthocracy is a weird place. Here's what its ordinary citizens look like:

An adventurer

A rich mercenary wearing custom-made plate from Dwer Tor

A katalictor on duty

A priest of Red-Handed Makar, patron of war and agriculture

Upper-middle class formal wear

A soldier of the Orthocracy

Recent fashion trends in the Orthocracy are to obscure the face with veils, masks, facial hair and tattoos

A soldier in the field

A mamluk of the Black Vermin Gods

Women in the Orthocracy need to be as capable with a weapon as any man.

A Weykulnic mercenary in the Cattle Market

An orthocrat's bodyguard 

An adventurer-assassin

Mamluk of the Wives of Dukar.

A veteran of the armed forces on deployment

The uniform of the king's bodyguard, rarely seen since the revolution; worn by counter-revolutionary factions

The uniform of a magistrate prior to the revolution. Still worn by country gentlemen as formal wear.

Priests of the Screaming God

Ordinary townspeople

Prosperous horse-traders from the hinterlands of the Orthocracy

The typical clothing of a rural peasant

A gnostic of the Halls of Nightmare in meditation

Miners from the hinterlands near Weykuln

The local council of a village in the hinterlands

A rural woman

Rural dress has changed little since prior to the revolution

The Orthocracy is the epicentre of textile production in the Dawnlands. Its fabrics are in high demand.

A rural family on a stroll

A counter-revolutionary partisan from the hinterlands.

A skilled artisan in his business clothes.

Cassius, high priest of the Red and Blue Snake Cult

A priest of the Black Vermin Gods

Bodily modification through soul-forging has left a legacy of odd-looking people in the Orthocracy.

Dragonman mamluk of the Red and Blue Snake Cult

A gnostic of the Zulaymna, the premier school of sorcery in the Dawnlands

A member of the upper class who has had herself soul-forged along fashionable lines.

A Burnt assassin.

The Assayers of the Forgetower inspect the latest candidate to become a Soulforger.

An adventurer 

Magic is ubiquitous in the Orthocracy. Many make a living selling charms and potions.

Kaddish is a lawless place, where any taste can find satiation.

Another upper-class woman, this time in formal wear.

All gods are welcome in the Orthocracy, the result of an ancient curse.

When they are not killing one another, the Kaddish are marvelously garrulous and jolly.

Household guards of the Hinam clan.

A priestess of the Blind God

An upper-class Burnt woman.

A vampire-cultist stands guard to prevent a murder-gnome from stealing the soul of this corpse before her master can.

A priestess of the Black Vermin Gods

Mamluk of the cult of Seven-Bladed Sij

A gnostic and her familiar

Cavalry officers like this man tend to come from the hinterland

A member of the College of the Wondrous Murder on patrol in Kingshead.

A member of their rivals, the White Square College.

A Burnt townsman

An acolyte pledges her devotion to the Headless God

People in the Orthocracy can vary considerably from what we consider "human" without seeming unusual. 

An acolyte of the Red and Blue Snake Cult has his vow of obedience consecrated

Zulaith the Patriot, the most powerful gnostic in the Dawnlands

Dragonmen often seek work as mercenaries,bodyguards, and manual labourers

A dragonman who survives long enough eventually grows wings

A dragonman thief

A priestess of Red-Handed Makar

Women are legally equals of men in the Orthocracy, and many take up the adventuring life

House guard of clan Shul

Orthocratic soldiers on deployment in the former kingdom of Weykuln

A priestess of the Headless God

Gnostics from the House of Blood and Bone

A conclave at the Zulaymna

All schools of gnostics that sat out the revolution must wear masks.

An upper-class townswoman's everyday clothing. Black has been gaining in popularity.

Brantha Jurthine Klex, the most famous living artist in the Orthocracy

The Orthocracy is known for its alchemists.

Lower-class townswoman's clothing

A gnostic at work

Conservative woman's clothing, the kind of thing daughters are dressed in by overprotective parents.

A mercenary

A fashionable upper-class gentleman, in this case with facial tattoos rather than a mask.

The mask craze started back when the Black Vermin Gods first rose to prominence. 

The Kaddish textile industry is capable of creating clothes unlike any others in the Dawnlands, with custom tailoring to each individual. Thousands of enslaved halfling toil to bedeck even the poorest man with fine clothing.

A vampire cultist praying

Masking the face is considered an act of patriotism that expresses the unity of all people in the Orthocracy regardless of species. Both men and women do it.

A clan assassin receives his mission

Gnostics rarely travel the plains alone. 

Lacking prisons, the Orthocracy punishes those who break its laws with exile, mutilation and death.

The Burnt are a true-breeding variety of human and elf. Their skin is darkly pigmented, ranging from night blue to deep crimson. Though mostly an underclass, their elites are tastemakers and trend-setters amongst the upper class.