"The Treasure of Set" is an adventure set in my setting of the Armorican Kingdoms.
Information for the character types I want, and a lot of info on the setting, can be found here: The Armorican Kingdoms [Setting Forge thread]
We won't be using stats. They get in the way of roleplaying.
Here are some ground rules for the game:
1. My word is LAW!
2. Absolutely NO MUNCHKINISM!
-Munchkinism is hereby defined as: Power-gaming, god-moding, playing a sorceror character, and/or controlling/killing off/otherwise affecting mine or others' NPCs without permission.
3. I want to keep this moving so it won't stagnate and die. If you don't post for five days, we'll go on without you, unless you provide a decent reason for not posting.
4. See Rule #1.
5. Also, follow all rules not hereby outlined that are outlined in the Freeform Rules in the regular Freeform board.
The crash of the waves sounded on the rocky cliffs of the Chargian coastline, booming like the shouts of the Sea Gods across the pre-dawn calm. The forest, couched like a dormant beast upon the headland, was dark, but a single flame glimmered on the marge of sea and stone.
The flame was a torch-light, and the hand that grasped it was that of a man, large in stature, and mighty of thew. He had the light brown hair of an Alsson, the high cheekbones of an Arcturan, and the aquiline nose of them both. He wore a heavy iron breastplate, with several prominent dents and scratches, and a wool tunic and baggy breeches of northern make. Rope sandals kept his feet from blistering, though the Chargian forest floor was soft and springy. A tattered black cloak, hood thrown back, draped his shoulders. Various leather packages and cases hung from a girdle on his hips. A single pauldron of Arcturan Imperial make spoke to an Legionare background.
Alssonus Proximo Gracchus, always wanderer, always adventurer, oft-times gladiator, frequent outlaw, swept northwards along the coast, following tales of treasure and adventure in a cove to the north of his former lodging, the Chargian seaside settlement of Meimeda.
He had been told that to the north, in a cove, there was an old, abandoned holt, dug into the cliffs. It was said that it had been the former home of the infamous pirate, Ezagros, called the Glaive of Bazzeis Coast. The pirate, of course, would have had treasure, and he would have stored some of it, at least, in his holt.
But there, ahead of him, there was a fire-light in the forest, and gruff voices sounded, shattering the stillness.
"Labba, ye're a cheat! 'Dem dice is loaded!" "Why, I amn't! Roll 'em, they ain't loaded! Ye'll see!" "Aw, shaddup, you two!" "Oi' want me money back!"
Alssonus frowned, and, hand on his sword-pommel, went to investigate.