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Dresden Files Roleplay


Aoiroo

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Right, not quite got all the aspects down pat, but I got a lot of the rest flushed out.

He's a friendly looking man in his 20s, with blond hair and blue eyes, clad in a nice-looking suit. To foster his "classical photography" business, he dresses in a sort of gentlemanly fashion, Dapper In A Suit, with a wind up pocket watch on a long silver chain. A quiet, shy-looking man who is somewhat nervous and doesn't look people in the eye much, but can come across and charming when he wants to.

In particular, he seems to get on well with kids (Friend To All Children), charging a discounted rate for children's birthday parties. He has to use old-fashioned photography, keeping a dark-room in his basement which has a permanent magic circle painted and meticulously maintained, inside which he contains equipment he doesn't want to have to fix too often. In one corner, he has a small box where he keeps all his old books and potion ingredients, largely forgotten until now.

When using magic, he projects his photomanctic spells and veils from two rings on his right hand. For longer spells, the silver chain on his watch unclips and can be carefully placed to form a useful, pre-reinforced and magically charged magic circle. Unskilled in most overt combat magic, he nonetheless can do a few useful tricks, like find someone using a photograph of them, bend light around him to form a veil, and project concentrated, hot beams of light from the two rings on his hand.

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Okay, for the Dresden RPG, I'm thinking of starting up on Saturday, so by than get your characters together, read through the books that sort of thing, probably have an account on the order of the stick site if you don't already. Sound okay for everyone?

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Works for me.

Question: in character building, the last 2 aspects come from other char/gm interactions (story building). How or are we going to handle that? I've got my ideas for the aspects but no clue on the story/connections bit.

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It's essentually who do you know, it's one reason why I want you guys to choose one of the stories selected, so we can figure out WHY everyone who's there is there and if there are possible connections to the faces in the stories. An example is the Devin family, their introduction story is Save The Princess, and any other stories using them afterwards requires that story as an opening. Ghost Lights and Family Business don't need any contact with faces though in Ghost Lights there may be a previous connection to Mark Parker who is a black cat officer.

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So ghost lights, alrighty than.

It's summer in Savanah, which means tourism, and not just any tourism late night ghost tours. The ghost trolley's in particular which have lately been guarenteeing ghost sitings, especially around Fort Jackson. However, things are getting a bit hectic as several people are being spooked long after the tour is over.

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Right, rough draft of the sheet. I was assuming we weren't going with by-the-books collaborative char gen, seeing as... well, Quinn already named most of his Aspects. But this is my current rough draft of Thomas Huntsman.

Thomas Gabriel Huntsman

Born in the mid-60s, Thomas Gabriel Huntsman grew up in Cincinatti, Ohio, to his parents James and Bernice. He grew up having a bog standard child hood, going to school, playing with friends, and eventually graduating with somewhat poor grades in the important subjects. But he loved photography, having spent a lot of his youth playing and tinkering with cameras. So he went off to community college to study photography, hoping to make a living that way.

But that all went downhill when he'd been struggling along for a few years, mainly making a little money selling photographs at art exhibitions or doing wedding pictures. At an exhibition, he came across a tall man with skin as pale as snow terrorizing a small child, and seemingly being genuinely pleased at the horrified responses. Without hesitation ("Friend To All Children"), he rushed over and tried to punch out the man... only to get thrown across the room with inhuman strength. In horror, he watched as one of the more prominent arts patrons lumbered into the room. And threw a lightning bolt at the pale skinned man.

In the confusion, Thomas grabbed the terrified child and made a run for it... only to be caught up later on and told he had some magical potential. And thus, was recruited as an apprentice wizard. His teacher, the rotund Wizard Damien van der Schnee, instructed him in many arts over months and months of boring lessons. Over time, it was found that while Thomas lacked much real talent for evocation, he was a very skilled man when it came to veils and subtler effects ("Subtle Trumps Powerful").

Then the Vampire War started, and the fledgling wizard was alarmed that he was likely going to be recruited, and asked to fight. When in fact, he'd done nothing wrong other than happen to have magical talent, and somehow had to fight in a war some asshole had started? ("I Look Out For Number One"). Well, as soon as his master began to be called out on missions, he left. He left Wizard van der Schnee a note explaining why he'd left, as he did respect the man a lot. But he just walked, and didn't stop until he'd got on several buses and trains, finally reaching Savanah, Georgia. ("Flunked Out Of White Council Training").

So he set up a new life for himself, donning a suit ("Nothing Suits Me Like A Suit") and took up photography again, specializing in an "authentic, antique approach to the art", so he didn't have to use new digital cameras which would break near his magical aura. And, keeping his head down and not trying to keep him head in the wizarding game... he just kept up with a normal life, finding his powers and knowledge slowly receding even now to less than they were. However, in his heart of hearts, he knows he's still a wizard. And he keeps getting dragged back into the world he walked away from.

Timeline

[floatl]Huntsman.jpg[/floatl]High Concept: Photomantic Photographer

Trouble: I Can't Escape Magic, It Always Finds Me

Aspects: Nothing Suits Me Like A Suit; Friend To All Children; Subtle Trumps Powerful; Flunked Out Of White Council Training; I Look Out For Number One

Skills:

Alertness: Fair (+2)

Athletics: Average (+1)

Conviction: Fair (+2)

Deceit: Average (+1)

Craftsmanship: Fair (+2)

Discipline: Great (+4)

Endurance: Average (+1)

Lore: Good (+3)

Presence: Average (+1)

Rapport: Fair (+2)

Resources: Average (+1)

Powers:

Channeling (spirit) [-2]

Rituals (photomancy) [-2]

The Sight [-1]

Soulgaze [-0, discount from The Sight]

Wizard's Constitution [-0]

Rote Spells:

"Aurelius!" (Spirit attack, 2 shifts, one stress): directs a tight beam of light and heat at a single target, acting as a Weapon: 2 attack. Requires the umbrella, and so is executed with Superb (+5) control.

"Veilamentum" (Spirit block, 2 shifts, one stress): conjures up a quick and dirty veil around Thomas, opposed by Alertness against a Fair (+2) result. Requires the umbrella, and so is executed with Superb (+5) control.

One rote slot left free in case any improvised spells become 'signature' spells.

Focus Items:

Umbrella: +1 Defensive Control (spirit), +1 Offensive Control (spirit) (uses the two slots granted by Channeling)

Rune-Rimmed Spectacles: +1 Control (photomancy) [uses one of the slots granted by Rituals, the other traded in for two Enchanted Item slots]

Enchanted Items:

Runed Iron Ring: Once per adventure, releases an illusory cloud of inky blackness (3 shifts, 2 of which go into a Fair (+2) Block vs Alertness, the third shift goes into making the cloud last for 2 exchanges).

One slot left open for potions.

Stress:

Mental 000, Social 000, Physical 000

Refresh Rate:

1 (from -5 Refresh cost)

Important notes on his magic: As per the sidebar on blind spots on p179, Subtle Trumps Powerful can be used as a compel to get rid of some or the baggage of Spirit evocations that a photomancer should by all logic suck at. Namely, everything involving kinetic energy.

Secondly, yes, that evocation Veil sucks. For a proper veil, he'd most likely use a ritual.

His Lore lets him go to Good (+3) complexity off the bat, and he can invoke the Photomantic Photographer aspect to get a max of Superb (+5) complexity without preparations of any shape or form. He is able to just blow through those 5 shifts in one roll with his glasses, granting him Superb (+5) control over the spell... only it'd cost 3 stress to do so, and leave him one spell away from unconsciousness. This would actually be acceptable if the party had to, say, flee a scene, or if there were consequences to burn to do it.

But normally, he'd take 3 exchanges, just channeling 2 shifts in each one, which he can do easily unless he rolls -4 to his Control roll (a 1 in 81 chance of doing so), and end up with 5 shifts of veil! The default for this would probably be about one scene by default, and mean that viewers would need to beat a +5 to see Thomas. Alternately, he could split this up between a small group of people, which'd only be a Good (+3) veil.

But wait, there's more! Additionally, if he had a second Fate point to burn, he could also invoke his Subtle Trumps Power aspect for a spell with a complexity of 7 shifts. It'd take him 4 exchanges, not 3, when it came to casting it, but it'd make his veil impenetrable to anyone without at least Good Alertness, and only those with Epic Alertness would manage to spot him without rolling above a 0. He could also spread that among the group again, and have a Superb veil.

Potential Potions

Night Vision Potion: based on the Scentless Trail example potion, should give the aspect Sees In The Dark for an hour.

Sunburst in a Handkerchief: Weapon:3, but only against creatures weak against sunlight.

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[floatr]91019_1.jpg[/floatr]Character: Alacoque Smith

Template: True Believer

High Concept: Bookshop Preacher

Trouble: Insatiable Curiosity

Other Aspects:

Good Anglican Upbringing (Mostly)

“Faith Manages, Faith Manages…â€

Off The Beaten Track Bookstore

Helpless In The Face Of The Cute

“I Think I Read This Somewhere!â€

Powers/Stunts:

Bless This House [-1]

Guide My Hand [-1]

Item Of Power (Family Cross) [+1] -Righteousness [-2]

Holy Touch [-1] (Requires Item Of Power /w Righteousness)

Skills:

Athletics: Average (+1)

Conviction: Great (+4)

Contacts: Average (+1)

Investigation: Fair (+2)

Discipline: Good (+3)

Lore: Good (+3)

Resources: Fair (+2)

Scholarship: Great (+4)

Stress:

Mental OOOO, Social OO, Physical OO

Refresh Rate:

2 (From -4 Refresh Cost)

Background:

Good Anglican Upbringing (Mostly) – Alacoque Smith came from a small family of preachers in Alabama, growing up with the expectation he’d enter into the clergy. Like any teenager with expectations on their shoulders, he resented it more than a little bit, and decided to focus more on his education, rather than any ecclesiarchal ideas. While his parents disapproved, they ultimately let him go to university, sending with him something he’d have inherited should he have become a preacher; an old Spanish cross that had been in the Smith family for years. Their gift to him, hoping it’d keep him safe, and that he’d keep the faith.

“Faith Manages, Faith Manages…†– Eventually, he graduated from university with honors, but found himself adrift in a world where he really had no idea what to do. He’d rebelled against his family instead of going into the clergy, but other than that and his degree in English and in History, he couldn’t see himself as a teacher. After trying job after job, he found himself outside of an old run-down church, where a reverend had just closed the doors for the night. Smith was about to just walk by, when, out of the blue, he stopped. The young man turned and approached the priest, striking up a conversation, and the two just sat on the steps, talking into the night. Alacoque talked about his troubles, that he felt perhaps he'd let God go by going out from under his family's expectations. That he didn't really know what to do. The priest smiled, and offered some words of advice; that God was with you no matter where you went, that the Big Guy Upstairs would guide you to what you wanted to do, what would make you happy, not what others wanted you to do. Where Alacoque had gone was his choice, after all. No matter what, if he really did keep the faith (the priest pointed to the cross Smith still wore around his neck, and winked), then things'd turn around eventually. Alacoque nodded and left, pondering the words the old man had said. In a week's time, he found himself on the road to Savannah, Georgia; this time deciding to just trust to faith.

Off The Beaten Track Bookstore – Oddly enough, his faith was rewarded; although to some perspectives it could have been plain luck. As he sat sipping on a coffee and munching on a piece of apple pie, he opened up a local newspaper intending to apply for the first ad he saw. Whether by luck or an invisible hand, the first thing his eyes alighted on was that a local storeowner was having a going out of business sale; a bookstore was closing. Smith tilted his head, then shrugged and said a silent thank-you to whoever was above. A few weeks later, after spending what few savings he had buying the place from the bored storeowner (who was moving away with a significant other), and making some local connections, Alacoque Smith became the proud owner of a slightly dingy back-alley bookstore in the middle of the downtown area. Rubbing the back of his head and looking at the run-down old shop, he looked up at the sky and raised an eyebrow.

Helpless In The Face Of The Cute – Unfortunately, reality then ensued, and after a month of regular difficulties (to which Smith approached with a renewed sense of faith, and a considerably reduced bank account), he found himself still working to get the place open, and a balance dipping dangerously close to the red. Smith worked hard to come up with eye-catching ads in the local papers, personally spending three days straight cleaning the place and turning into something presentable; the poor young man worked to the bone to get the place respectable, but it still missed something. That something happened the day before the opening, as he was about to troop upstairs from the shop to his apartment. There was a meow at the door. He turned around, to see a rather rotund black cat sitting on his front doorstep, pawing at the glass. He walked over; the cat meowed at him in a very imperious manner, highly reminiscent of “Let me in!â€. Alacoque opened the door. The cat sat there for a moment, sniffing at the door jamb, then simply walked in like he owned the place. Smith named him Barnaby; he wasn’t sure why. Then he stepped out and bought some cat food. The two’ve been inseparable ever since.

“I Think I’ve Read This Somewhere!†– Amazingly (Al actually suspects the adorable furball he now quasi-owns), the opening went off without a hitch. A lot of the locals found themselves wandering in for some strange reason, and stayed to poke around the shelves and pet the cat. Smith was overjoyed, and spent his day walking around and talking to the customers, as well as ringing up purchases. By the end of the day, he’d accumulated a healthy amount of cash, as well as a number of stories told about some curious happenings in Savannah. Several people had asked him why he’d moved into town, and if he’d heard about these urban legends; Alacoque’s interest was piqued. Since then, he’s lived quietly in his small bookstore, selling and buying…and reading, learning about his new home’s history, and a lot of the local legends and folklore. He’s found in himself a curious affinity for the esoteric, digging up knowledge in old tomes that sometimes he never even knew he had. One of these days, that knowledge might get him into trouble; and that day’s coming up awfully fast…

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Well, I'm going to get in here, too, with a working draft, even though he won't be showing up until a later adventure:

Donnie Kent

600full-mickey-rourke.jpg
High Concept: Skeptical Prizefighter

Template: Pure Mortal

Trouble: Fighting Above His Weight Class

Aspects:

In For A Penny, In For A Pounding

I'm The Guy Who Wants It More

You Can See The Wires

I'd Stop Smoking But I'm No Quitter

Every Broken Bone Is A Story

Skills:

Athletics: Fair (+2)

Contacts: Average (+1)

Conviction: Good (+3)

Craftmanship: Average (+1)

Driving: Average (+1)

Endurance: Good (+3)

Fists: Great (+4)

Intimidation: Fair (+2)

Might: Fair (+2)

Presence: Average (+1)

Mortal Stunts:

Lethal Weapon (Fists are Weapon: 2 vs. Unarmored Opponents)

Martial Artist (Fists as Knowledge and Perception)

No Pain, No Gain (2 Additional Mild Physical Consequences)

Resilient Self-Image (2 Additional Mild Mental Consequences)

Tough Stuff (Armor: 1 vs. Blunt Trauma)

You Don't Want Any of This (+2 to Brush-Offs)

Stress:

Mental OOOO, Social OOO, Physical OOOO

Refresh Rate:

2 (-6 Cost, +2 Pure Mortal)

Background

Donnie Kent may only be in his early thirties, but the wear and tear of those decades has given him a weathered look that speaks of a mix of endured punishment and soaked up sun rays. A Savannah native, Donnie's working class upbringing taught him two lessons: to never trust anything he couldn't see with his own two eyes and to never take anything he hadn't earned with his own two hands. With a stubborn streak a mile wide and a habit of getting into fights at the drop of a hat, nobody was particularly surprised when he started hanging around the local gym as a youth and eventually began training as a boxer.

He wasn't the lightest on his feet, nor did he have a head for strategy but he could take hit after hit and keep coming back for more, powering on through with fists like sledgehammers. Donnie never seemed to quite make it to the top, but he was always a contender in any fight he entered. Among other prizefighters, he was regarded with a mix of respect and scorn for not knowing when to stay down, and with considerable frustration by promoters for his refusal to take a dive or otherwise 'play the game'. Over the years he became as much a fixture at the gym as the ratty old punching bags or bulletin board of layered posters.

Living in Savannah, Donnie's heard more than a few stories and rumours of the supernatural variety, but he knows shlock tourist bait when he hears it. If people want to walk around saying they can talk to ghosts or spend their time chanting in the middle of a circle of candles, well, Donnie's an accepting guy so long as nobody's trying to sell him anything. What doesn't sit well with him is the way so many of those creepy cult types have been nosing around the fights lately, looking to recruit up and coming muscle. Something stinks in the neighbourhood, but anybody who comes looking to throw down on Donnie's turf is going to get a little more than they bargained for.

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For the opening of Ghost Lights, Ecal, can you tell me where in Savannah is your character's studio?

Well, I was thinking he had one of those two-storey apartments, only instead of entering on the ground and having an upstairs, he enters from the ground and has a downstairs (after writing this, I realised that's essentially Dresden's apartment, but rather than 'dingy lab', my thoughts were actually 'photographer's darkroom'.

As for where... well, really, I don't know Savannah at all. Even with Wikipedia's help, any neighbourhood I name will be just that, a name, as it doesn't go into detail as to what each area is like. My thought was a sort of lower middle class area, maybe with slightly older buildings, a population centre rather than a shopping one. Sorry I can't be more specific.

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Well, I am not the Devil, and thus have never felt the urge to go down to Georgia.

But, looking at the Feiler Park area, I like the look of those yellow-painted bungalows. Probably with a nicely maintained lawn on it, and perhaps a small sign saying "Huntsman Photography".

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  • 1 month later...

Template: Unknown (Magical Something but not something known in the story yet

;))

Powers

-1 Inhuman Strengh

-1 Inhuman Quickness

-1 Inhuman Toughness

Mortal Stunts:

Lethal Weapon (Fists are Weapon: 2 vs. Unarmored Opponents)

Martial Artist: Tough Stuff (Armor: 1 vs Blunt Trauma)

Skills:

Athletics: Average

Endurance: Fair

Fists: Good

Intimidation: Fair

Might: Good

Presense: Great

Survival: Average

Physical 00000

Social 000

Mental 00

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  • 1 year later...

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