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PoisonWar

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you get to punch people so hard that they turn into a duck.

 

 

 

I'm looking into this ASAP.

 

I was thinking of doing something wacky for this upcoming session... i think i got the notes of an all Malkavian half-written campaign lying around here... Maybe I could salvage that.

 

As for Exalted: I'm looking into this, which edition am I best off getting?

 

 

 

Well, the punching people 'til they turn into ducks bit you'll have to wait for until Sidereals comes out (they're the best* Exalted anyways, it's worth the wait). Re:editions, the Third Edition Core is currently in the art & layout phase, I suspect it'll be out in the first quarter of 2015, and you definitely want to wait for it, because a/ earlier editions had horrible systems**, and b/ because it's going to be really frickin' awesome (there was a playtest leak, so it's not just PR talk). If you just want to get to know the world, most of the First Edition will be semi-relevant; I'd recommend the Core for a general overview, The Scavenger Lands for a more detailed picture of the world, and Games of Divinity for the wider cosmology. Also, Masters of Jade from 2E is awesome and was written by the same authors as 3E, so it'll probably remain relevant.

 

 

*I mean, you get native powers like being able to hide between raindrops and the the minutes of the hour, planting a question into fertile soil that grows into a plant that whispers the answer to that question for you, cutting people up with strands of Fate itself, and dodging so well that the entire neighbourhood teleports with you across half the country, on top of all the funky Martial Arts styles they have.

 

**You've seen how clunky the oWoD core system is - 1st Ed had the same clunkiness with increased bookkeeping, while 2nd Ed was streamlined, but built on a deeply flawed core assumption (sky-high lethality coupled with easily available perfect defenses, leading to a/ characters without perfects being unplayable, shoehorning every character concept into a also being master of fighting, because perfects had really high combat ability requirements, and b/ long combat sequences where both participants just PD-d their opponent's attacks, leading to essentially nothing happening for a long time) and had a very confusing and hard-to-learn initiative system where instead of turns, everyone acted continuously, according to their relative Initiative score compared to that of the fastest actor, and the speed of the action they've taken last time. Also, both systems had a problem with the core engine simply not being able to function at the power level of the game.

 

Well, this is sounding like mage on crack! I'm getting really excited now... I love taking abstracts and turning them literal, add some metaphorical poetry to the mix... Damn...

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Well, this is sounding like mage on crack! I'm getting really excited now... I love taking abstracts and turning them literal, add some metaphorical poetry to the mix... Damn...

 

 

I also feel obligated to point out that the setting has dinosaurs that pee heroin.

 

A fact that is only made more awesome by them being called Beasts of Resplendent Liquid.

 

 

Edit: actually, I think the fastest way to get an overall feel for the game's world is to read an Actual Play of it. Thankfully, I've got you covered.

Edited by aluminiumtrioxid

"Lulz is not the highest aspiration of art and mankind, no matter what the Encyclopedia Dramatica says."

 

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Speaking of the Immanence Design (the actual play I've mentioned earlier), I've found my favorite part in the whole thing, a story (well, children's tale) within the setting. It just oozes atmosphere and is quite educational.
 
 
 

Once there was a man who was very good at hiding. 

This was a very long time ago, when there were very many people who were very good at lots of things. There were people who were very good at fighting and people who were very good at leading and people who were very good at talking and people who were very good at knowing. There were even others who were very good at hiding, but this man was the best at hiding of them all. He was called the Fade, but that wasn't really his name, and nobody actually called him that way back then. 

There were also lots of people who were less good at things than the people who were very good at them. One day they got jealous, and decided to get rid of all the people who were better at things than they were. So they all got together and killed as many as they could find, the ones who were very good at fighting and the ones who were very good at leading and the ones who were very good at talking and the ones who were very good at knowing, but certainly didn't know that this was going to happen, and even some of the ones who were very good at hiding, who apparently weren't as very good as they'd thought. 

But they couldn't catch the Fade. Not at first. But after he'd escaped, he looked around at the world, and saw that he was one of the only ones left. He wouldn't be able to hide forever, not after all his brothers got found and killed and everybody was looking out for just him. But the Fade was clever, and he thought that if he couldn't hide himself, he could hide all the parts that made him himself. 

First he hid his name; he dug a hole, then he put his name in it, and when one of the Fair Folk came along to see what was caught in the hole, the Fade pushed him in. After a week without sustenance, the Fair One ate the name so that he wouldn't starve, and then the Fade let him back out, so that he could return to the Far Marches of the Wyld and take his name with him. 

Next the Fade hid his memories. He put them all in little boxes, and made little straps so that he could hold onto them all at once. That way his memories didn't have to be in his head, and when he wore the little boxes, he'd know everything he'd need to know. 

His two swords were bright and made of gold, so he had to sit and think for a month about where to hide them so that they wouldn't glitter and shine and draw attention to themselves. He sat and sat, until finally one day he had an idea. He got up and he walked as far north as he could (and this was very far indeed, because Creation was much bigger in those days). He swam through seas choked with ice, but the cold couldn't find him to suck the life out of him. He walked through miles and miles of lifeless tundra, but hunger couldn't find him to sap the muscle off his bones. He climbed ice-cliffs as tall as the sky, and the earth couldn't find him, so that even when he slipped off, he wouldn't hit the ground but could instead just go back to climbing again. Finally he made it to the very end of Creation, and he grabbed the edge and he looked over the side. He couldn't see what was beyond -- he was very very good at hiding, but he was still mortal, after all -- but he could see that, just as he thought, there was a seam between Creation and the Underworld, like the space between two slices of bread. He slipped his gold swords into that seam, and so long as they stayed in-between, nobody could guess where they were. 

Then the Fade walked back south, and as he did, he thought some more. Some of the people who were trying to kill him could read things in the sky. Worse, they were going to get to him sometime or other, and even if he did manage to hide from them, he couldn't hide from Time. Once he died, they'd have their hands on him, and it would be the end. All his hard work would be for nothing. He thought and he thought, but he couldn't see any way out of it. The more he thought, the more desperate his plans became -- impersonate one of the Maidens! Learn to walk on his cheekbones, so that when Death came, he'd laugh so hard he'd let the Fade get away! Suddenly the Fade felt very alone. His memories were all hidden in far away boxes, his weapons were far out of reach, a Fae noble had stolen his name, and most everything in Creation wanted to kill him. The Fade couldn't hide himself from despair, and he sat down on top of a glacier and began crying with all his might. 

He didn't know how long he'd been weeping when the voice interrupted him. "Pardon me, O Prince of the Earth, but I cannot help but notice that you are in some distress." The Fade looked up. Standing in front of him, on top of the glacier, was a man wrapped crown-to-toe in a beautiful cloak. The man had one big extra eye instead of a mouth, and when it blinked, the Fade heard his words melt their way up through his nostrils. "Do not be confused, O Prince, for I am one of the Yozis, and the Gods, in their jealousy, decreed that we must be all mixed-up before they would allow us to live. Now I see that their jealousy has spread so far that they cannot even suffer their Chosen to live in glory, for why else would a man hide his name, his memories, and his swords, if not to try to hide himself from the Gods?" 

"You speak well, O Demon Prince," said the Fade, his cleverness returning now that he saw a worthy foil. "Indeed, you have the right of it, and I am to be cast down like the rest of my brethren, because we grew too bright and too strong for our lessers to abide. But tell me, foul one, how is it that you can be here in Creation, under the watchful eye of the Unconquered Sun, treading upon the flesh of your traitorous sister, without bearing the dismaying brunt of their disapproval?" 

"Ah, the pitiful remnants of my soul are cut to the quick by your plight, O Prince, so I will honor your question with a reply, though it is one of the darkest secrets of my green-lit home. The virtue is in my cloak," the demon said, flaring the garment wide to allow the Fade to see the inner lining. "Witness the yellow-green constellations of my home, coaxed down from the squat heavens of Malfeas by the seductive songs of the tower-sirens which dot my brother's thick surface-skin, and sewn into the trim by generations of seamstresses, each of whom could manage only a single stitch before being immolated by the citrine radiance. While I wear it, none who dwell under the stars of Heaven can know me, or my fate." 

That cloak is a cunning thing indeed, thought the Fade. Fortunately, I am the more cunning still. "O Yozi," he said out loud, "it is clear to us both that your garment is the solution to my current predicament. Still, it would be insulting to us both to presume that you could be cajoled into simply giving it to me." The man blinked his great mouth-eye in pleasant acknowledgment, for the Fade's words were no less than his due. "But it would demean neither of us to consider a trade, would you not agree?" 

"Indeed, O man," the Yozi twinkled, "you know that it is in the nature of demons to appreciate a finely-crafted bargain. And yet, do not think me disrespectful were I to point out that you have very little with which to bargain. You are bereft of name, memory, and weapon: what could you offer in exchange for this wondrous cloak, the hell-borne fruit of ages of labor?" 

"I could offer you my soul," said the Fade. 

"Wouldn't give an obol for it," confessed the Yozi, mirth gleaming through his eye. "That's always the first thing you mortals offer, and there's rather a glut on them, I do confess." 

"I had anticipated that, and made the offer for form's sake, merely. Might I then offer you my mouth?" 

"With which to speak, perhaps? I can do so very well already, as you no doubt have observed. With which to lick the secret places of my consort Brasidas, the Wasp Whose Sting Is Inspiration And Abandon? The novelty would wear out long before your tongue, under the acid touch of her blissful secretions. To affix to my forehead, and therefore cause the mortals to scream even louder when I ride out among them during the five days of Calibration? You must think me a crude, rough beast indeed to propose such a thing." 

The Yozi, bored, began to turn away, when the Fade's voice came yet again: "Truly, sir, yours is a discerning mind, and a keen eye for a bargain, if you will allow so clumsy a pun to pass my lips without taking your just due of umbrage. I tender to you, then, my final offer. For your cloak, sewn with the yellow-green stars of Malfeas, I make this offer: I will give you my death." 

The demon stood teary-eyed in amazement. "Your death? What would I want with your death? It is a limit, the boundary which circumscribes you, mortal. What use could I, undying, have for such a thing?" 

"Ah," said the Fade, studiously diffident. "I had thought better of the fabled perversity of the Demon Princes. They sought out all that was forbidden, to embrace them for the sheer joy of violation. That they might understand the breathtaking vertigo of limit, of constraint, of boundary. That they might thrill in tainting their own natures with the base stuff of mortality. Alas, I was misinformed, and I therefore am undone." Dejected, the Fade began his long slow climb back towards the frozen seas, and the new Realm of the Dragon-Blooded which wished for nothing better than his heart. 

"Wait!" called the Yozi. "You have piqued my interest, O Prince of the Earth. It is true, none among my fellows have tasted this death of yours -- at least, none who dwell now in Malfeas, death being the part of our Neverborn cousins who slumber dreamingly on Oblivion's blasted slope. Such a thing might have value indeed, value enough to be parted from my cloak." 

"I salute your discernment, O demon, and gratefully accept your acceptance. As there is no use wasting time in matters of business, I trust you will have no objection to handing over the cloak immediately?" 

"Fine, fine," the Demon Prince said grouchily, unhappy to be giving up his prize before first tasting the sweet merit of his bargain, and divested himself of his great cloak. The Fade wrapped it around himself hungrily, savoring the scent of mothballs and burning metals. "Now, then, the cloak is yours. Where, then, is your death?" 

"It is here," boomed the earth, as it felt the foulness walking on top of it. "It is here," whispered the sky, as its gaze beat down upon the uncleanness which offended its sight. "It is here," sighed the wind, as it caressed the demon like a hated lover. "It is here," cried the host of Sidereals, who had been sneaking up on the Fade even as he bargained. 

And that is how the demon got his death, and the Fade got his cloak.

Edited by aluminiumtrioxid
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"Lulz is not the highest aspiration of art and mankind, no matter what the Encyclopedia Dramatica says."

 

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I'm loving this... Getting a very "planescape-ish" vibe from it. I'm definitely gonna at least read through the first core book..

 

They're both fantasy games with a penchant for the weird and a dash of pretentiousness, but whereas Planescape is a D&D world* about multiversal industrial London** where belief moves mountains, Exalted is an animistic post-apocalyptical Bronze Age magical kung-fu world about mythical heroes and the morality of power. It's apples and oranges, really.

 

*with all the baggage this entails

 

**tabletop version's a bit more apparent about it than the CRPG)

Edited by aluminiumtrioxid

"Lulz is not the highest aspiration of art and mankind, no matter what the Encyclopedia Dramatica says."

 

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What I meant was: Both are very foreign worlds with nearly unlimited possibilities where gods are present in their physical form, just chilling with the others.

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What I meant was: Both are very foreign worlds with nearly unlimited possibilities where gods are present in their physical form, just chilling with the others.

 

Ah, yes, that's reasonable.

 

Notable difference, though: in Exalted, you're pretty much expected to be able to throttle gods right from the beginning (I mean, your previous incarnations have slain titans of such immense scope that their death-throes have fundamentally broken the concept of death itself, so that's really more of a minimum expected capacity than anything else), while in D&D, even threatening one god might be the endpoint of an entire chronicle.

Edited by aluminiumtrioxid

"Lulz is not the highest aspiration of art and mankind, no matter what the Encyclopedia Dramatica says."

 

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How about this?
 

 

Exalted is a game where one of your main antagonists is Death, Creator of the Underworld. Except there's several of him, probably six or seven. Oh, and he's got 13 dread henchmen, one of whom was probably you at some point in time. Also, Hell has a personal grudge against you this time. Did I mention Magical America regularly trains and sends ninjas out for you personally? Ninjas specially trained in ass-kicking? Which, if they won't work, they keep giant robotic suits of armor on reserve for. Oh, and the Transformers have united under Omicron, and are invading. The Jedi have corrupted Heaven and usurped your rightful place as the Masters of Everything. Your ex-wife just dropped by, and she's a two thousand year old shape-changing man-eating monster now, interested in maybe going on a date next Thursday. Your best friend from your last life and while growing up now seeks to cover all the lands of Middle Earth in darkness, if he can just find this damn ring. And your God has the world's biggest crack habit, and needs some serious rehab.

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"Bones heal, chicks dig scars, pain is temporary, glory is forever."

What is glass but tortured sand?
Never forget! '12.01.13.

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How about this?

 

 

Exalted is a game where one of your main antagonists is Death, Creator of the Underworld. Except there's several of him, probably six or seven. Oh, and he's got 13 dread henchmen, one of whom was probably you at some point in time. Also, Hell has a personal grudge against you this time. Did I mention Magical America regularly trains and sends ninjas out for you personally? Ninjas specially trained in ass-kicking? Which, if they won't work, they keep giant robotic suits of armor on reserve for. Oh, and the Transformers have united under Omicron, and are invading. The Jedi have corrupted Heaven and usurped your rightful place as the Masters of Everything. Your ex-wife just dropped by, and she's a two thousand year old shape-changing man-eating monster now, interested in maybe going on a date next Thursday. Your best friend from your last life and while growing up now seeks to cover all the lands of Middle Earth in darkness, if he can just find this damn ring. And your God has the world's biggest crack habit, and needs some serious rehab.

 

 

 

Encapsulates the gonzo insanity of Second Edition pretty well, but 3E is going to move away from this somewhat.

 

To the direction of Even More Awesome.


"Lulz is not the highest aspiration of art and mankind, no matter what the Encyclopedia Dramatica says."

 

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So... Today we plated WUSHU, and created a whole new world where candy is heresy, and animal kung fu resulted in turning you into the form of your spirit animal..
Our heroes, Whinnie, a horse who adept in kung-hoof came all the way from Texas to joined our mourning protagonist JC, a hyena FBI agent (master of necromantic kung-fu) who had lost his fiance in what was known as "the incident" one week ago.

 

The incident involved the statue of liberty being turned into solid candy, while the torch was turned into ice cream.

Our heroes fought incredible odds and foes in a journey that takes them half across the world., including candy cane-wielding monks, ninja elves and suicide bombing reindeer, will they ever find out who's behind the incident? Only time will tell.

 

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Homebrewed. We took turns coming up with nonsense. And tortured alu with delicious, delicious puns.
 

It was rather awesome, if I do say so myself. :lol:


"Bones heal, chicks dig scars, pain is temporary, glory is forever."

What is glass but tortured sand?
Never forget! '12.01.13.

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Behold Elric Doorslayer! The Doorvahkin! Son of the Thunder God! Vanquisher of the dreaded Lion-Goat-Satan-Door-Tank!

 

1WNakFo.png

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"Bones heal, chicks dig scars, pain is temporary, glory is forever."

What is glass but tortured sand?
Never forget! '12.01.13.

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Behold Elric Doorslayer! The Doorvahkin!

 

 

It's Door-Whack-In, you filthy heretic! The Church of the Dragonfly will enact revenge on you for misspelling the name of the Son of the True God!


"Lulz is not the highest aspiration of art and mankind, no matter what the Encyclopedia Dramatica says."

 

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Behold Elric Doorslayer! The Doorvahkin!

 

 

It's Door-Whack-In, you filthy heretic! The Church of the Dragonfly will enact revenge on you for misspelling the name of the Son of the True God!

 

Actually, having given it some thought, I think Elric should receive an asset to smashing doors from now on. Cause 1exp isn't really enough reward for that kind of encounter. What do you think, Marky?

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<blockquote class='ipsBlockquote' data-author="PoisonWar" data-cid="1552655" data-time="1420332408">PoisonWar, on 04 Jan 2015 - 01:46 AM, said:PoisonWar, on 04 Jan 2015 - 01:46 AM, said:PoisonWar, on 04 Jan 2015 - 01:46 AM, said:<p>

 

 

Behold Elric Doorslayer! The Doorvahkin!

It's Door-Whack-In, you filthy heretic! The Church of the Dragonfly will enact revenge on you for misspelling the name of the Son of the True God!
Actually, having given it some thought, I think Elric should receive an asset to smashing doors from now on. Cause 1exp isn't really enough reward for that kind of encounter. What do you think, Marky?
I like it. Everytime Elric smashes a door open, he should say: "FUS RO DOOR!"Sorry... Edited by Marky
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Seriously though, I never thought I'd ever have reason to IC utter the words "I'm proud of you, son. You vanquished the fearsome door through the power of 4chan."

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"Lulz is not the highest aspiration of art and mankind, no matter what the Encyclopedia Dramatica says."

 

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Behold Elric Doorslayer! The Doorvahkin!

 

 

It's Door-Whack-In, you filthy heretic!

Meh, that's just silly.

 

As I said during the session already, I never expected to say "That door is overpowered" ever.


"Bones heal, chicks dig scars, pain is temporary, glory is forever."

What is glass but tortured sand?
Never forget! '12.01.13.

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As I said during the session already, I never expected to say "That door is overpowered" ever.

 

 

That's just because you didn't invest in Lockpicking :p

 

(It also totally wasn't overpowered. Not to give ideas to the GM, but I wouldn't really say a (non-damaged) tank can be below level 6, and armor 3 is kind of a joke.)

Edited by aluminiumtrioxid

"Lulz is not the highest aspiration of art and mankind, no matter what the Encyclopedia Dramatica says."

 

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As I said during the session already, I never expected to say "That door is overpowered" ever.

 

 

That's just because you didn't invest in Lockpicking :p

 

(It also totally wasn't overpowered. Not to give ideas to the GM, but I wouldn't really say a (non-damaged) tank can be below level 6, and armor 3 is kind of a joke.)

 

This thing was conjured during the first session, and I didn't really want a wipe in the first session :p.

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As I said during the session already, I never expected to say "That door is overpowered" ever.

 

 

That's just because you didn't invest in Lockpicking :p

 

(It also totally wasn't overpowered. Not to give ideas to the GM, but I wouldn't really say a (non-damaged) tank can be below level 6, and armor 3 is kind of a joke.)

 

Doors usually don't have tank treads and laser eyes you know. Maybe where you live.. :p


"Bones heal, chicks dig scars, pain is temporary, glory is forever."

What is glass but tortured sand?
Never forget! '12.01.13.

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As I said during the session already, I never expected to say "That door is overpowered" ever.

 

 

That's just because you didn't invest in Lockpicking :p

 

Doors usually don't have tank treads and laser eyes you know. Maybe where you live.. :p

 

 

You're clearly underestimating the number of ways a door can kill you :p


"Lulz is not the highest aspiration of art and mankind, no matter what the Encyclopedia Dramatica says."

 

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