Throughout the annals of history, legends and tales speak of powerful kings, brave knights and diligent saints; each spawning whimsical and glorious tales of their exploits.
However this tale is not about them. It is about you. The common man. The small-folk. The serfs and slaves. The peasant. You will tame ox and horse not dragons. You will harvest the heads of wheat, not the heads of enemies. You will learn the cycles of the sun and moon, not the cycles of runes and spells. You are the foundation to every great civilization under the sun and maybe through luck or cunning you can aspire to be slightly more. But for now, you are a lowly serf, bond to a single master and the land he owns,
Where is it that you spend your days toiling.
>The crags, mountains and hills of [The Vandervale], known for its vast wealth in precious stones and metals
>The fertile plains of [Ravnony] where the gifts of earth grow bountifully along a calm river.
>The arid savannahs of [Ki'Bodi] whose cattle and elephants graze in vast fields of dry grass.
>The cold reaches of [Norland] where pelts of beasts both grand and small hail from.
>Or rather one of the many island of [Ryloth] making trade in pearls, whale and fish.
Ki'Bodi, a grand savanna bordering a great desert. It's inhabitants have tamed many beasts that share ancestry to the wild herds that still roam today. Most of these shepherds of the high grass are nomads, but a few have established great trade cities fed the numberless citizens of the continent the livestock of influential cattle-barons. So what did those wise barons condemn you to spend your days as
> A field worker (+STR, +PER, +Farm)
> A smith’s lackey (+WIT, +STR, +Metalworking)
> A Lord’s hunting dope (+SPD, +PER, +Hunting)
> A housekeeper (+CHR, +WIT, +Lore)
> A shepherd's ward(+PER, +SPD, +Beast-care)
> A pit slave (++STR, +Ore)
A housekeeper to the Cattle-Barons. All in all, not too bad of a post. You kept yourself indoors away from the harsh savannah sun making sure your master and his many wives have a clean home to live in. As such you were more well-spoken and learned than common workers, the masters even allowed you a bed. It was demanding work and many of your fellow serfs ended the day with welts and bruises for their incompetence. But not you. How did you go about this?
>I toiled hard and with diligence
>I formed pacts and bonds with fellow serfs to support one another
>I worked smarter
>I always sought to find opportunities to rest or obtain small luxuries
>I made sure to be first to all meals and beds.
Your fellow serfs were rather dull, content to labor in pain and anguish so long as their jobs were done. You, however, sought to find small exploits: leaving choice tools in hidden crevices, heating the water for baths while the cooks toiled, and other smarmy tricks to lighten the load. And so you do your best working smart, year after year, season after season. Times could be harsh and cruel, pushing you to edge of your mortality. However, some way or another you finally achieved freedom. How did you go by achieving this?
>Saving the life of your master (++Relation, +Small Gift, -Loss of an appendage (1d100)
>Paying off your price through labor (+Small Gift)
>Your old master free’d his bonds on his deathbed (+Relation)
>Escaped (+SPD, +Tools, -Relation)
>Liberated through war (+Martial skill)
I have one question are you going to turn this into a fucking stupid vampire bullshit or bail on us because that's what happened with the last four or five people who did so-called peasant quest
Not in this roll, its body part and severity.
God no pls.
Come the night of a great festival the master had arrange for a lavish ball, and many noble barons had come. Unfortunately the decadence of the good master was well known and had been the cause of misery of the small free folk that resided in his lands.
And lo a violent insurrection,swept the manor. Common peasants took to arms and aimed on ending the master dynasty. But whether through loyalty or lofty promises of a boon you stood by your master, taking an arrow to your calf that tore it asunder.
The master's bodyguards finally put a quick end to the peasant uprising, and in the good master's gratitude patched up your wound and offered you a small boon along with freedom.
To this day, you have a slight hobble to your step, but you've learned to live with it. More importantly the master passed to you a small token of gratitude, an [Ivory Shepard's Horn], to call upon aid, or to your flock
A few years have passed, and you are now a freeman, owning an allotment of land. It pales in comparisons to the more established families but for you the 20 acre of grazing land is yours. You look to your side and notice you traveling companion.
A rather soft youth. He tried to keep up with the fellow [serfs], but usually fell short in his quotas and was beat for it. Through pity or brotherly love you picked up his slack allowing him to survive to see freedom. He has grown somewhat over the years but is still rather weak, however he loves and adores you, you will find no closer or more loyal man than your brother.
>A Fellow Freeman
An old acquaintance from the [fields], you toiled together as comrades both of you making sure you don’t catch the ire of your masters. With nowhere else to go he figures you two can make it together in the world watching each others backs.
You don’t know who she really was before she started to follow you, but you had seen her working the homes of the masters. She is rather young, surely no older than 14 winters, but somehow or another the masters saw to it that her tongue be ripped out. She is quiet, and jumps at the slightest movements, but she has proven useful in keeping your camps tidy and organized.
>The Grizzled Veteran
An old soldier and witness to many battles, but one battle too many. He has decided to settle down away from the frontlines and decided you would be his best way out. His body is hardened and strong and his mind still sharp, but his tremors at night worry you.
Mayhaps she saw common cause in two cripples trying to eek out a meager living, maybe you were the only one to tolerant her presence, but the fact of the matter remains, you, a common man having seen 19 rainy seasons go by, is now in charge of your own life as well as another.
You make a quick survey of your abode. A dilapidated hut made of grass and mud, little more than a single room with a straw roll and a hanging rope for a pot to warm over a fire pit.
What will you do now?
>Survey the lands (PER)
>Buy supplies from a local market
>Meet neighboring landowners
>Talk to The Mute
You look to and fro, and cannot really complain for the small price you paid for the land, you hadn't expected much. The Mute is content to look absently at nothing, avoiding your gaze and you realize you don't really know much about her. "So-" you began, but that elicits nothing more than her jumping at the sudden break of silence and staring more intently at the nothing she was focused on.
>Ignore her, do something else
I AM OP NOW
THE MUTE GETS BRUTALLY RAPED AS THE HORN PENETRATES HER ANAL CAVITY. YOUR PENIS TEARS INTO HER VIRGIN HOLE AND AS YOU PUMP HER THE HORN TEARS THROUGH THE MEMBRANE THAT SEPERATES THE POOP CHUTE FROM THE BABY CHUTE. SHE BLEEDS TO DEATH AND YOUR DICK IS TORN OFF. YOU BOTH DIE
mfw any quest or civ that shows great promise is always abandoned.