Verdure

The gates of Fungria stand stalwart, the flickering lantern-bugs providing a small bastion of illumination in the face of that unending night.

Tylin holds her spear aloft in the universal symbol for ‘stop or I’ll stab you’ as someone approaches these gates. The figure, cloaked in all manner of robes, collapses to the ground. Cautious, Tylin took a step towards it. And another.

A series of steps, culminating in the reveal that this figure was dressed in great finery, and their large amaranth head symbolized that they were one of royal lineage. Tylin curses.

Meanwhile, some distance away in the Floral Empire capitol of Gomphrena, the emperor Makhmali falls from his throne and onto his knees to die, with nobody else in the room.

Far, far away from all this in the Scrub-lands, another mysterious figure arrives in a tavern in the small coastal town of Hebe. The bartender, a stout thistle, grabs a flagon off the shelf with one thorny hand and passes it to this newcomer.

"What, say, is your business here traveller?"

He awaits your response.

I'm here for questionable business. I want to know what I am. For as long as I remember, since I was a child, I have been always this creature.

You Seek to Charter a Ship to aid you in your quest to capsize the great sea-toad that Devoured your parents some 20 years hence.

You Seek to Charter a Ship to aid you in your quest to capsize the great sea-toad that Devoured your parents some 20 years hence.

You tell the bartender your tragic tale, of how the magnificent and deadly sea-toad devoured your parents and their fishing trawler when you were but a child. You've never seen them since, and had to raise yourself in an uncomfortable land, fending for yourself in the wilds among the Scrub-lands.

+2 Tough
+1 Knowledge

I'm here for questionable business. I want to know what I am. For as long as I remember, since I was a child, I have been always this creature.

Throughout your tough childhood you've met many people, all of which have queried what exactly you are, but you've never known the answer. It lies in a sea-toad's belly, along with your parents. Your physical form resembles that of the Ceropegan people of the Eastern Scrub-lands, but you were born in the South, and those people were thought to have died off long ago. Your parents may have been the last of their kind, and now, that may be you.

+1 Talk
+Unique

The bartender looks at you, thorns bristled.

"Wow, for the life o' me... I don't think I'd e'er see one o' your kind 'round 'ere. Y'know, me grandmother always told me that you folk were still 'round, but I ne'er believed 'er!" He chuckles, drying a cup in standard bartender fashion.

It is, at this point, that the door is bashed down by a large Flytrap holding a bat in her hands. She licks her lips, pointing towards the bartender. Behind her swarms a group of gnats, one of which she eats but the rest fly towards the bartender.

Conveniently enough for him, you are in the way.

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Character
Quest: Find parents, kill Sea-toad.
Race: ???
Stats:
Knowledge - 1
Tough - 2
Talk - 1
Qualities:
Unique - You are a unique individual of an all-but extinct race, and nobody, not even you, knows about your downfall or if any of you remain.

>Challange the person-with-a-bat to a drinking battle, your guts will survive
>Break a bottle and use it as a weapon against the gnats.

Offer to buy her a drink. It never does pay to make a huge deal out of A Flytrap getting a little over-excited and using force in excess of what their task demands.. They can get quite snappy and their tempers tend to be on a Hair Trigger. In any case, A lot of the Carnivorous Folks tend to misjudge their strengths around things made for and by those who Drink Sunlight. Their own constructions tend towards a far sturdier build. A Little Rude of her to send her Swarm to attract the BArtender's attention like that, but honestly, We've all had those days.

>Attempt to tame swarm.
((Goodness. i didn't exactly expect this adventure to have plantpeople.))

>Break a bottle and use it as a weapon against the gnats.

>Attempt to tame swarm.

You shatter a bottle, nectar ale dripping onto the floor as the bartender hides behind the counter and the peony playing the piano starts a hectic combat tune.

However, you aren't of the kind to engage in wanton violence, your wild birth leading you to a deep respect for natural life.

+2 Feeling

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Roll
Compassion = 2d6+Feeling
Result: 6 + 2 [+ 2], 10, Success

You hold the bottle in your hands, drops of nectar still lying within as you gather up the gnats. Now in the gnat-equivalent of a food coma, they peacefully float by, falling into a deep sleep beside you. The Flytrap snarls.

Offer to buy her a drink.

You tell her to hold it right there, as you offer her the flagon from the bar, half-full of ale. She smashes her bat against one of the tables.

"I don' care 'bout no bloody ale. Ah'm 'ere for 'im. That slimin' bastard took my child."

What? That is your last thought, before the bartender grabs the flagon from your hands, smashing it against your head.

...

......

The Flytrap smacks you awake. The smell of charred wood assails your senses, coughing pollen from the vents around your stigma. The bar, ablaze with red, is falling to pieces around you.

"He escaped. We gotta get outta 'ere."

She drags you out, throwing you onto the ground outside, before she rushes back in herself. The bar isn't going to be standing much longer, and the bright heat from the bar is the only illumination under the starless sky. Two moons out, tonight. Two... an unlucky number.

You're brought back to reality by the sound of a wagon approaching, as you see a gang of pitcher's dressed in a similar rogue's garb to the Flytrap from earlier. They ignore you, focusing on rushing in to help her.

Their wagon and the accompanying staghorns sit there, unattended.

Rain begins to fall, as you consider your actions.

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Character
Quest: Find parents, kill Sea-toad.
Race: ???
Stats:
Knowledge - 1
Tough - 2
Talk - 1
Feeling - 2
Qualities:
Unique - You are a unique individual of an all-but extinct race, and nobody, not even you, knows about your downfall or if any of you remain.

Well, Shit, A Gang Of Rogues In a Coastal Town have GOT to have some sort of Ship or other such sort of Aquatic Locomotion. And there's a Certain themata of family Stolen that makes you sympathetic to her plight.
See if you can't convince them to let you tag along (also, apologize for getting in her way earlier. You didn't know what was at stake)

>Steal a fuckton of ol' and good ale as a personal vengeance of the bartender smashing your head.
>Offer your help because seem's like you fucked up, fast and hard. Even more because you can feel actually simpathy over the whole family stolen deal.

Well, Shit, A Gang Of Rogues In a Coastal Town have GOT to have some sort of Ship or other such sort of Aquatic Locomotion. And there's a Certain themata of family Stolen that makes you sympathetic to her plight.
See if you can't convince them to let you tag along (also, apologize for getting in her way earlier. You didn't know what was at stake)

>Steal a fuckton of ol' and good ale as a personal vengeance of the bartender smashing your head.
>Offer your help because seem's like you fucked up, fast and hard. Even more because you can feel actually simpathy over the whole family stolen deal.

You decide to dust yourself off and head in after the pitcher gang. They seem like good folk.

Bursting through the flames encasing the door, you see the Flytrap and her gang of pitchers attempting to heave a blockade off the door leading into the backdoor of the establishment. The bartender is nowhere to be found. The gang sees you and pulls you to help, and you use your strength to aid them in their lifting.

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Roll
Physical Exertion = 2d6+Tough
Result: 5 + 1 [+ 2], 8, Mixed

You manage to heave the boards blocking the door out of the way, but in the meantime you singe your hands pretty badly.
[+Burn]

One of the pitchers with a floral headdress pats you on the shoulder in thanks, as they all proceed to the back room. You hear the sounds of searching, finding, beating up, and escaping, as you steal most of the ale from the bartender's stocks. You can't take it all, but it's a pretty decent haul.
[+5 Nectar Ale]

You just get out of the bar as it crumbles to a pile of burning wood, and with ragged lungs from the smoke you cough your way towards to the gang.

The Flytrap stands with a large leafy egg-shaped object, and she seems to be smiling. She grins at you, specifically, and it's a little unnerving.

"Thank ya'. Ya' didn' 'ave to do that, but ya' did. I dunno if I'd of been able to get her out without ya'. Whaddya need? Ah'll see what I can do. My name's Diana, by the way."

You explain to her your parental plight, and she consoles you, but motions to one of the pitchers. In what feels like no time at all, you have been given a seafaring vessel. It seems to be modeled after a water strider, with a small spherical cockpit held up by 8 long mechanical legs which have little boats on their feet. The legs fold up so the cockpit can be carried with ease.
[+ Water Strider]

Diana wishes you well but says that she can't afford to feed an extra gang member without some real convincing, if you wanted to join them. The pitchers seem to provide her with enough muscle and skill to get by, so you see them off on their wagon, as they head back into the Scrub-lands.

What nice people.

Well, now you have a quest to get to.

...


...


...

A few days later, you are sliding along the water in the Water Strider, having been searching the coast for the great sea-toad for some time. Your rations are running somewhat low, so you decide to stop at an island rest stop specifically for sailors.

As you dock your large ship, the palm sprout tending the stall waves to you, awkwardly.

"Uh, h-hey! If you're a s-sailor, you've come to the right place! W-we've got anything you could ever need! It's free, if you're a s-sailor! The price varies on h-how sailory your job is, so... c-could I please take a look at your p-profession card?"

Of course he can, because you have one on you as everyone does. The sprout takes the card in his hands looking at... what is he looking at?

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Character
Currently:
- Burnt: Your hands are a little singed. No concrete effect, but it hurts to hold things sometimes.
Quest: Find parents, kill Sea-toad.
Race: ???
Profession: (?)
Stats:
Knowledge - 1
Tough - 2
Talk - 1
Feeling - 2
Qualities:
Unique - You are a unique individual of an all-but extinct race, and nobody, not even you, knows about your downfall or if any of you remain.
Inventory:
5x Nectar Ale - A sweet inebriating drink. Drink for extra Tough, but less Knowledge.
Water Strider - A dome-shaped mechanical boat which has 8 retractable legs that allow it to skirt along the water. Nifty!

He's looking at your general-purpose profession card, majoring in aquaculture, and minoring in etheric science.

You're a Questor, One of those Daring Doers of Derring-do With your Current (and, Given you've only just let the academy, First) Deed marked as Aquatic Vengeance (sea-toad). Once you've completed your Current Deed, It will be struck from your card and replaced by whichever quest you next take.

It's not the most standard of jobs, but the academy Has provided you with a lot of training in an eclectic variety of fields and some of the more prolific hunters have a level of celebrity and following matched only by those who carry Musician (Teen Idol) Cards