The world ended years ago. You were there.
It was underwhelming, to be honest.
You've spent your time since The Final Scene honing your combat and survival skills, becoming one of many lone survivors wandering the plains of your home.
Gangs, supplies, the nightbeasts, the depths of your own mind. All elements that you've learned to contend with to a degree.
For years you've been wasting away living a pointless, day-to-day struggle for survival until yesterday.
Yesterday you received The Call.
The Daystar, Lord of Life, Blinding Mercy, Peacemaker, Warbreaker, Godking of the North and Bane to the Midwaste has completed his journey. For a year, tales of The Daystar's ever-increasing exploits have been passed mouth-to-ear among everyone you've met. It appears that the goal of His crusade has finally been made clear: Having assembled both a small army and the Ultimate Weapon, He is ready to permanently settle in what will be known no longer as the Northern Sunblight.
"Come North to the Sanctuary of the Sun. Bask in the light of His Mercy. Be safe. Be fed. Live."
And so, for whatever reason you may have, you've left for the North.
Your journey begins.
First, who are you?
Character Sheet
Name:
Class:
Gang:
Other information:
—stats—
Hp:
Tp:
Strength:
Dexterity:
Endurance:
Instinct:
Knowledge:
Willpower:
—Skill Trees—
1:
2:
3:
4:
—Talents, Traits and Penalties—
Talents:
Traits:
Penelties:
—Equipment—
Head:
Neck:
Body:
Hands:
Feet:
Primary item:
Secondary item:
—Loot—
Gangs
Spoilers: A surprisingly large gang of rowdy boys dedicated to ruining everything for everyone. They taught you many useful skills, like how to ruin literally any food using only your bodily fluids, or how to eat said ruined food without puking. One thing they did not teach you was how to not be a dick. Everyone dislikes you.
Daddy's Boys.: Yes, the punctuation was part of their name. This is what happens when you let the prep kids take over the school, then get their hands in so many drugs. You are addled and addicted, but a savant of sorts in the old ways of life. Your cushy living in the college town of Sympathy has resulted in you having nearly no life skills. Also your gang uniform makes you look like a nerrrrrrd!
The Aristocrats: Based on the hilarious, classic joke is a gang that does it's best to live up to it's namesake through sheer, disgusting action. The reputation your gang bears is enough to cause shuddering at the sight of the signature mutilations you underwent during initiation. You are a horrible animal.
NRCMP: Developed as an evolution of the surviving police of the Midwaste, you are part of a force of well-equipped lawkeepers who patrol their jurisdiction and keep the peace. By any means necessary. You are oath-bound to keep to your order's code, and your mandatory uniform makes you stick out like a sore thumb. Still, the benefits of your provisions make it worth it.
Ridley's Raiders: You are a bike-less member of a bikergang in search of more fuel. As a footsoldier, your job is to harass people for the supplies needed to keep the Riders in fighting shape. You know, to keep your territory safe.
You hate your life.
Personal Gang: More like your friendcircle or family, but it still counts. Discuss the specifics with me please
Lone Suvivor: With no one to aid you but yourself, it's been sink or swim since the beginning. And God did you swim.
Other: I'm always open to your ideas! PM me to discuss ideas for other gangs!
Skill Trees
99 Bottles...: Based around your drunken tendencies. Who needs dexterity anyways?
Biker: Requires a Bike. Perform sick tricks on people's faces. Grind, dude.
Combat Pragmatist: You fight real dirty. You have to if you want to survive.
Chaser: From the french word for Hunter. Your skills at survival include both hunting and preparing food. Your prey will not escape you.
Omnivore: Teeth like daggers. Stomach of steel. Your. Hunger. Shall. Be. Satiated.
Scavenger: Throwing together bits and pieces of whatever you find lying around, glittering in the dirt where others have missed it, you have created: trash.
Diseased: you've developed a horrific disease that has had bizarre physiologicsl effects on you.
Whiplord: master of the weaponized rope. You can entrap your enemies with your corded weapons.
Bullwark: The ultimate, shield-bearing tank. It is you.
Butcher: Chop chop chop. He probably didn't need that arm, right? You deal in high-difficulty power attacks with devastating consequences.
Bladeplay: You are one with the blade, though not necessarily the sword blade. You're just skilled with Sharon things, essentially.
Sneakster: Master of the art of SLIP and LIFT, you can stealthily change the contents of an enemy's inventory. Or any storage crevice, really. You live in the shadows and work from stealth.
Other: May either develope over time, or be created by PMing me about your idea. Let's see what kinds of shit people can come up with.
Your first step in your journey has you meeting the other players at a crossroads. This is now.
For now, introduce yourself to your companions and myself. Don't worry about character sheets just yet. After introduction, we can discuss the specifics of your characters' stats.
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