THE SMOKE

[GenerallyKilling]

It's the greatest city in the world.

The original name long lost to time and cheap wine, The Smoke is the capital of the known world: A heaving, swelling urban center precariously built on top of it's own carcass, like a tumor extending it's cancerous polyps out into the deadened earth and purple-grey sea. It takes it's title from the eponymous choking smog that hangs over it's spires and rooftops like a veil, dampening the sun and hiding the stars. Underneath it, an incalculable number of people live in mixed fortunes-- a blooded caste of nobles live in sequestered luxury behind ancient walls in the nucleus of the city, and beyond them, centuries or more of cheap construction, always on top of the last, houses the rest. Beneath the preciously thin veneer of normalcy, wild tales of restless dead, heretical cults, man-eating monsters and treasonous plots against the state are a persistent element of life. What the rumormill can't provide, life will: Law is mercilessly enforced by the highly bureaucratized watch, and adherence to the True Faith comes in the form of the merciless persecution of moral offenders from gracious Inquisitors, agents of the Church. They have of course been completely unsuccessful in quelling the persistent criminal elements that dominate many people's lives.

It's a place where dreams are born, brought to life, and die screaming. The promise of a new life and quick riches have traditionally drawn life from the outer country and parts unknown into it's waiting hands, and now is no different than any other point in it's history. This is why you're here- you're not heroes. You're poor, and most of all, you're desperate.

THE GAME! THE GAME! THE GAME!

Swyvers is a lightweight game about grimy medieval urban adventuring. Life and wealth are easy-come, easy-go. Only the most cunning and lucky characters will survive long enough to go into wealthy retirement. Hopefully, you'll at least be able to cover the costs of your funeral. You can read up on the rules here. I strongly reccomend you do not spoil some of the content for yourselves by reading the 'Running Swyvers' section and beyond. I'll be able to update this once every day or two and everyone should feel free to drop in or out at any time. Characters are disposable.

CREATION:
1. Roll 3d6 4 times and assign these in order to your stats: Constitution, dexterity, strength and wisdom.
2. Roll 1d4 to determine literacy (success on a 1) and 1d10+10 for a starting no. of shillings.
3. Consult page 15's equipment table and outfit yourself for mischief. All prices assume 'shit' quality - 5x for normal, 10x for good.
4. Get a good name and life story that has brought you into The Smoke's clutches!

PREPARE TO GET RICH OR DIE TRYING!

[GenerallyKilling]

Story
story
story

Little things about the world at large that might answer some questions and immerse you a little more.


THE STATE:
The Smoke is officially ruled by King Canly XLII, descendant of the ruling Canly dynasty. His face is unknown to his subjects and so many things in daily life are presented as royal or word from the throne that his authority is undermined by it's own scale. The only common knowledge about the supposed monarch is that he was possibly involved in the plot which killed the previous monarch, his sister. From the throne, a complex network of agencies, guilds and committees administrates The Smoke, and the inner workings could not be more alien to the average citizen. What's important is that they write the laws, and that you'll never have any say in them.
Rebellious districts are much more common than state-funded pamphlets would like you to believe, but almost universally die from the inside out, or by decisive action from the Crownguard- an elite paramilitary wing of the government usually responsible for the collection of taxes and maintaining of order among the upper class.

TECHNOLOGY:
The printing press is an eternal menace. Chemistry is a poorly-developed but popular science, and laboratories authorized and otherwise are commonplace. Fighting is done with long knives and weighted clubs, but the wealthy can find fine plate and swords without too much trouble. Medicine is legalized butchery- sometimes it's better to die than to be healed like this. The suppression of a real and non-religious academia, as well as the guilds' tight-fisted control on trade secrets, stymies any chance of significant technological developments.

THE CHURCH:
An institution as old as the city. They organize the worship of the White Sun, a mythical solar deity- He is weakened by the treachery of man and burns cool yellow-red, His influence weakened and consciousness diminished. They preach His edicts as written by successive Patriarchs, supreme religious authorities, and their works form a body formally known as the Sacred Transcripts (and more commonly as 'the sacreds'). The books are universally written in an archaic dialect and skeptics claim this is a clever obfuscation used to justify on-the-fly rulings by priests in their judgements. Such heretics are captured and disciplined by the Inquisition, who under the authority of the crown and church have a right to interrogate any man, and bring him before a holy court. In general, the faith teaches:
- Strict adherence to the Church; donations, volunteering, attending services, etc.
- Violence against enemies of the Church. Blasphemers should be mutilated. Heretics- hanged.
- The promise that when Man is sufficiently pious, the White Sun will burn away the remaining impurity in the world, leaving behind a paradise for the faithful.

There are no holidays. Every day is a working day.
THE BACKYARD:
The land and sea around The Smoke are poisoned by the wear of supporting it. Overland traders tell that you can hear the first birds after a fortnight by horse, and the wet wasteland you can see from the walls is only inhabited by the lowest forms of life. Strange people live outside and turn the fast-growing grindwood trees into charcoal and cheap timber. On the west, the ocean is teeming with fish, inedible from a life spent in the water until cleaned with (luckily) common chemical washes. Away from the coast, mariners say that sharp-toothed fish-men steal their crew at night, so fishermen stick to the harbor, and never let it get out of sight. It's good to be inside.

PARTS UNKNOWN:
The colloquial term for anything outside the immediate area around The Smoke. Maps are a specialty product for the learned. Trade ships from abroad buy wholesale and foist, taking advantage of the eternally-uncertain market- foreigners rarely stay or tell meaningful tales, and the general conception of the rest of the world is that life is equally short but much less civilized. It's said that in the great steppe, men take many wives and the slaughter of cattle by anyone other than a priest is a capital crime. It's said that in the black mountains, fire-breathing lizards and stunted sub-humans wage wage against the heretical baronies, and in the boiling south, the jungle is alive, and will eat any man who enters. In short-- it's good to be in the greatest city in the world.

BELOW:
The Smoke is incredibly old. It has been built on top of itself so long that there are several stories of easily-accessible labyrinth ruins under almost every district. Almost every one is partially flooded, as the city slowly sinks and the water table leaks into the foundations. It is here that criminals ply their trade: whole businesses exist using only the underground, where a ruined cellar connecting to a toppled tower has become a convenient smuggling route past a watch checkpoint. The deeper you go, the more dangerous it becomes, and it is generally agreed upon that nobody with good intentions would ever consider anything short of turning back when the architecture is no longer stylistically recognizable.

[GenerallyKilling]

last reservation slot i swear i just like organization and ill write this one in the next hour

[Kobold]

Born a bastard, raised an urchin Fendrel has always found a way to survive working odd jobs.
He is generally unremarkable and plainly dressed.

Con - 16 (+2)
Dex - 16 (+2)
Str - 12
Wis - 14 (+1)
Shillings - 14
Items: Mace
2 lbs dry fruit
Pint Flask (ale)

[Georg W.B.L.M.H.]

I will roll my stats and wealth here and generate my character off of that.
3d6+3d6+3d6+3d6+1d4+1d10

François, the former clerk:
Con: 11
Dex: 10
Str: 11
Wis: 8 (-1)
Starting Wealth: 16 Shillings
Gear: Nobleman's Wear (15s) (Stolen), Sword (6d), Cheap Pipe(3d), Shitty Tobacco (worse than Prince Albert, 2d), Pound of stinky cheese (smoked and aged gouda harder than hardtack, 1d)
Current Wealth: Jack Shit
Literacy: Was raised in a monastery, the teachings didn't hold but he can read.

[GenerallyKilling]

Waiting on 2+ more people so that we can get the ball rolling.