Bay 12 Games Forum

These tracks took lives to build. They worked to the bone in the cold and dark. You could tell a seasoned laborer from the digits missing from his hand, gnawed off in the night by frostbite. The unprepared bid farewell to limbs and good health for the rest of their lives. The unfortunate died. Cold and rigid carcasses line the route from Apex to Ossuary, beneath the ice, forgotten. Few of those who now take the line know of the blood shed to lay the rails. Few care to dwell on such things, safe in their heated compartments, blessed by the smoke-belching engines and fur-lined seats.

Of course, there are those who remember - who think of the men who oversaw the work, the captains of rail and industry, the drillmasters. Colder hearts can scarcely be found, they say, even in the Rime. The blood is on their hands. Pursuit of profit denied warmth to good, working men. Greed killed, as greed does. But what is the common man to do? They are beyond justice.

Five exceptional individuals board the train along its long route from the Thaw across the heart of the Rime. By chance, or perhaps fate, they share a destination. They are bound together, until the Rime claims them or they find what they seek.




Ronald 'Frostbite' McCarthy

Home is somewhere along this line, it occurs to you. The Terminus Express forms the main artery feeding the Rime, stopping at every town with any claim to the title. Coal and firewood is unloaded at every stop - it does rather make the journey drag on - to be used or hauled further to isolated settlements. The fuel filling the first ten wagons is the lifeblood of the Rime. Sure, there's coal in the Rime, trapped in frozen ground, and Cauldron survives well enough burning the vapors underneath, but few could survive here fully on their own. As loathe as Rimers are to admit it, you are dependent on the Inners and their supplies. By the time this train reaches its terminus in Ossuary, it will have saved thousands and thousands.

Assuming, that is, that it does reach its destination. You know too well the madness of the greedy and desperate. Coal bandits prey on the line. The train might be a behemoth of blackened steel and steam-fed power, but it doesn't take much to stop it even so. A simple blockade on the rails will force the engine to a halt to avoid collision. Raiders can just jump aboard, with the thing's limited speed - go any faster, and you'll slip off the treacherous ice on the tracks. There's always a chance for an attack.

You're not going home, however much your thoughts drift back to the place. You've left it behind long ago - and besides, it'd take a long trek through the wilds to even get there from the nearest station. It's work that's brought you aboard the Terminus. A town by the name of Stalwart is looking for hired guns to deal with a bandit problem. Someone over there mentioned your name, and a letter found you. The mayor's paying well enough in scrip or supplies for the job, and you've never said no to shooting people who oughta be shot anyway.

There's only a few passenger compartments in the train, and the damn thing's packed to the gills. You're one of the lucky ones, you're informed; in exchange for helping defend the train if it comes under attack, you've been given a compartment where there's space enough to sit. There's six other people stuck in there with you, shoulder-to-shoulder like kelpers in a slaughterhouse. At least you can share body warmth. You do the polite thing and try your best to pretend you're not at all uncomfortable. You suspect everyone else is busy doing the same.


Ulien Inervios

Your sisters and your diving suit are the only things you have left from your old life, and you are very acutely aware that neither of them is at hand's reach now. The suit is safely stowed away in the train's cargo wagon, sure, but your sisters are another matter. You've sent them ahead to stay with Lukas, a friend in Stalwart, and are on your way to join them. You wish you could've traveled with them, but money is tight and you had to take what you could get. It pains you to be apart from them - Lukas is trustworthy and a good friend, but he's not family. The sooner you can get to Stalwart, the better.

The Terminus Express grinds on at a steady pace, steam rising from the rails as it passes. The engine breathes out gusts of black smoke without pause - a good thing, too, since if it stopped, so would the heating in the compartments. It's chilly enough as it is. The Inner girl sharing the cabin with you is shivering already, much as she tries to put on a brave face.

They say bandits attack in these parts. You're a few miles out of Cauldron, by your reckoning, with endless miles still to go before Stalwart. That's a lot of time for things to go badly wrong. You have your sixshooter hidden in the folds of your dress just in case. The barrel is cold against your leg, even through the leather holster. Bandits might be the least of possible problems, though. At least you can shoot bandits. Engine trouble or ruined tracks or the train slipping off the rails are all very real possibilities which the gun can't do anything against. You hope they have qualified engineers on board to take care of that sort of thing - or you'll have to step in, with the little understanding of these machines that you have.

You lean back against your sit and try to get comfortable. It's rather impossible with the other passengers pressing against you on both sides, though. You thought it a lucky break to get in here in exchange for pledging to defend the train, but you're beginning to rethink that. The air is both cold and humid with everyone's sweat. Someone's elbow finds your ribs with astonishing regularity. This might be a long journey.


Fiona McDougan of Cormwall ('Fry')

The Rime is so very pretty, but it is also so very, very cold. An expanse of blinding white snow stretches on through the window, broken at times by distance markers made shiny with ice crystal sheens. On occasion, there's a patch of slick bare rock or a distant frost-hugged mountain. Somewhat amusingly, the map you saw identified the peaks as islands. It's either very out of date, or part of that peculiar Rimer humor you're still trying to understand.

The train is a marvel - tons of steel and wood thundering away faster than any horse through this cold land - but, um, this compartment could be a bit larger. There are seven people jammed into a space you don't think was intended for more than five. They all look quite interesting - Rimers typically are - but you've not had a chance for much conversation yet. Perhaps you should change that soon.

You're headed for Stalwart - for no real reason, but someone you met mentioned the local saloon offered the worst meals he had ever tasted, and you thought that perhaps you could help rectify that and find work at the same time. If not there, then something else. There seems to be a lot going on in Stalwart; you've met quite a few Rimers heading that way already. Plenty of opportunities for a lady of your skill and will to start making a new life. Certainly since your funds are running quite low!


Sir Rimelight ('The Croc')

There was a time you could've had a compartment all to your own. There was a time when you could've bought this entire train. At least you were offered a place in a seated compartment - having to stand all the way like the common poor would've been... irritating - after you implied that you'd help shoot some bandits dead, if necessary. Not that you are terribly flush with scrip at the moment, either. You made some bad investments in Marrow - misplaced trust - slight errors of judgement - and in any case, they're all dead now, so it's no use dwelling on it. You'll get what's yours in time, and for now, you'll get by as you always do.

The Terminus Express continues on towards new opportunities. Stalwart's hiring hard men, and that's where you're headed. Frankly, it's little more than an excuse. If there's nothing of worth there, you'll find something else. You just needed to get out of Marrow. The bodies, well, they weren't great company, and it was best to get out of the town before anyone started asking unwelcome questions. It wouldn't do to kill everyone there, after all.

You show none of your discomfort, but this is simply not a very restful journey. You're starting to think you should begin a conversation with one of your fellow passengers, just to distract your mind from the discomfort of being packed in here with six other people and their luggage. Nobody seems too keen on talking to you, per se, but that is fine. You find you sometimes have that effect on people.


Cormac Hess

You're going deep into the Rime, getting as far away as you can from people who might recognize you, who might return to finish what they stared. Bandits are popular nowhere, however much they are tolerated by the pragmatic and the cunning. It's probably best to shed your old life as much as you can. Further East await new opportunities, new beginnings. You intend to follow the Terminus Line to Stalwart at the least. They're hiring men there - to kill bandits, supposedly. The idea holds a strange twisted appeal, but you might as well seek out the bandits and join them instead. Maybe you'll take some other job; there's been plenty of killing in your life in the last year. There are better ways to survive.

The train company gave you a seat in a compartment in exchange for some empty promise of shooting bandits if they came after the train. You don't expect you'll have to. Only idiots would attack a train of this type - you noticed the rotary gun up top as soon as you came near, for one - at this time of year, with easier targets aplenty. Idiots or the desperate, you suppose. A bandit's life is not an easy one.

It's a nice compartment, all in all - pelts on the walls and seats, heating, plenty of space to stretch your legs as long as the fellow opposite isn't also stretching any at the same time. Everyone's very close together, but it sorta reminds you of the old family pit - cramped even before the kids were all full-grown, but damned if it wasn't nice and cozy. These people don't look all that keen to share body warmth, though. A few of them look rich enough to make good targets... if you were still a bandit, you mean. You can't help but to wonder what's inside their bags and suitcases - especially the one with the fancy lock.



All

The compartment holds seven people; a brown-haired young man concealed beneath many furs that some know as 'Frostbite', a tall and gaunt woman with short grey hair by the name of Ulien Inervios, a strangely healthy-looking woman with sun-warmed skin and what seems to be a parasol at her side going by the name of Fiona 'Fry' McDougan, an imposing man in a suit with crocodile leather shoes and a regal fur cloak on his shoulders known to many as Sir Rimelight, or the 'Croc', and a short and wiry man with black hair and Rimer-pale skin by the name of Cormac Hess.

In the window seats - already sitting there when the rest entered - are two men. The first is a stout and short gentleman with neat brown hair and spectacles. He has a strong jawline broken by what might be whip scars. He wears a practical wool-lined coat over a fine suit and vest. He looks wealthy, but not Inner wealthy; too practical, too rough and provincial. His attention is focused on a newspaper he's perusing, but his eyes rise above the rim of the paper every now and then to steal a look at his fellow passengers. A large revolver decorated in silver sits at his hip.
   
The man opposite him has the look of a hired gun. The barrel of a stocky rifle peeks out of his bag. He keeps his eye on the others at all times, except for the gentleman in front of him. There is something to them screaming of 'gentleman and his bodyguard'.

The train continues its long circuit of the Terminus Line. The unchanging landscape rolls past through the window. If there is trouble on the way, it has yet to rear its ugly head.

Paper money - known as Marks or 'scrip' in the Rime - does exist, coming in from the interior. The further east you get, the less useful it becomes, though - it's great when you're buying coal right out of inner trains, but no good when you're bartering with a survivalist on the edge of the endless black sea. So, as Dwarmin said, an economy partially based on bartering goods and doing favors. Hard Bargainer provides a bonus to bartering when there's no actual money involved.

I'm changed some of the Traits:
-Quick Attack now allows you to dish out two attacks in a turn, but with a halved attack bonus. It's still potent, but not quite so overpowered.
-Frontier Cook now provides inspiration for up to 5 people; the 4 people version was from when I intended to have 4 players.
-Hunter... has not been changed, yet. It is very powerful, but only against single targets, and even bosses perhaps dying quickly is in tune with the themes of the game.

Will probably tinker more as we go along. In any case, I'll be choosing the players later today and getting out the first post sometime this week. This'll probably turn into an OOC thread and I'll getan IC thread up.

I do find it amusing the hard-bitten survivalist frontier folk are the most likely to die from the cold, though.

On the contrary. They know better than to get caught in the kind of conditions that require a Might check. You survive with your brain, not with your body.

Just curious but @gm, does magic, or occult stuff exist in this setting?

The Rime is a strange place. Many men have gone mad staring out at the endless black sea, claiming to have witnessed impossible things. Their ravings and heresies sometimes find audiences in the most unlikely places.

Whether there's any truth to what they say? Well, who knows - but having an occult-interested character is a viable option, if a bit of a niche one. As a note, if you intend to leave so many unanswered questions and mysteries in your background, you're basically letting me dictate what those mysteries and answers are. Which is very much fine by me, but you can include more detail if you like.

@crazyabe: Your character and backstory are fine, but could use more detail, maybe something about 'Jonah's personality.

@Dwarmin: Delightful as always. A more optimistic character among the gritty types would be great fun, I'm sure.

@Jerick: Looks good to me! Don't worry about your chances of survival. I'm sure you can get by in the Rime with luck... assuming you have incredible, stupendous amounts of luck.

@Irony: For a melee fighter, you'll want Speed and Might. Your current build has a decent +6 bonus to melee (Might+Speed) and the same for ranged (Mind+Speed). Traits can really make up for just a mediocre attack bonus, like your Quick Attack, so it's already fairly good. You could shift Mind or Learning to Might or Speed if you wanted to be even better at melee, of course. Your backstory is wonderful, in any case.

Was there supposed to be a place to put your Background, or where you saving that for later?

Background goes with Origins! I figured I had enough sections on the app and so rolled the two together. Feel free to write as much as you like - your third Trait will be determined by your background and role, after all!

I've gone and started the Rime RPG, with a short-ish self-contained adventure in mind. Let's see where it takes me. Everyone's free to do their own spin on the idea of the Rime as they want, of course, seeing as this was a community thing anyway.

Trump and Putin are meeting in Helsinki. I don't know if the actual meeting will have much of note, but Finland's certainly gone a bit overboard for it. The media's been flooded with anything even remotely relevant ever since the meeting was announced. The security arrangements are kinda crazy here. Police and soldiers everywhere, even in the quiet area where I live. Helicopters buzzing around overhead. Parts of the city closed and traffic redirected - getting to work tomorrow will be a pain. I saw Air Force One land just now while driving past the airport. This is probably the biggest gathering of police in my lifetime. It's all very surreal. We/I'm not used to being in the center of global politics for a change.