Topic: The WestEnd - Description

LdyBelial

Date: 2016-04-11 13:15 EST
From the mouth of the WestEnd's Creator, Sid's Player, Julie:

WestEnd The WestEnd is a rundown and dilapidated district west of the Red Dragon Inn. It is on the cusp between Old Town and Stars End Sector. The neighborhood is bordered on its west by a warehouse district, with docks and the water beyond that. It isn't an easy place to live and has become a haven for the disenfranchised due to certain quirks of this particular area of Rhy"Din.

Some of WestEnd's peculiar quirks already in play and up for use include:

WestEnd seems to be a "dead zone," of sorts. When one is inside its boundaries one is effectively "off the radar." To "see" into WestEnd seems to be impossible by any means; magics, scrying, tech, second sight, telepathically, otherworldly talents. Once inside, it is near impossible for any to locate you who are also not inside the confines of the WestEnd.

This "dead zone" also has consequences inside the boundaries of WestEnd, or maybe it is just because the WestEnd is between the manna rich Old Town and the high tech splendors of Stars End Sector. For whatever reason, both magic and tech work often twisted and unexpected ways inside the WestEnd. Most of the lights, though there are not many working ones on the maze-like streets of this tumble down neighborhood, are spell lamps. If it seems to work like something in the modern world, one can bet the internal mechanism of whatever it is will be a marriage of tech and magic in order to function in the WestEnd.

((The OOC:

The WestEnd is a player-created setting. What's that mean to you? The WestEnd has an established setting with a few quirks that we ask players playing here to be considerate of:

* The WestEnd's layout and ambience are similar to that of New Orleans" French Quarter. With many alley ways that end in dead ends. Narrow, tight streets surrounded by a mix of multi-cultural buildings. Streetlamps can be found in the more heavily occupied area of the WestEnd, what local's call WestEnd Market, but are rare in less populated areas. * It is hard to find people in the WestEnd, almost as if no matter what kind of radar you are using it is broken. An aspect of the "Dead Zone" effect. * There are Gang Infested Blocks in the WestEnd where it is very dangerous to roam.

* Wild Manna Fluctuations are common and unpredictable. They can destroy most technology, (yes this includes cell phones,) and cause magic/spells to go haywire. It also impacts guns and black powder. Imagine Magic has a capricious sense of humor " a gun doesn't just explode, but instead it turns into a flower.

* Tech may not work correctly in the WestEnd but there are ways to work around this IC. You are welcome to be creative! The Bloods have made 'spellboxes" which are a merging of tech and manna. They absorb manna if it is too high or unpredictable, and create a stabilized field of manna if it dips to nothing.

* Urban decay haunts the WestEnd. It is a collection of buildings from various Earth time periods. Some of the older buildings are in need of serious renovation and have become home to the poor, the outcasts and the runaways. You will find the most rebuilt area in the WestEnd to be in and around the WestEnd Market. Although some individuals and organizations are attempting a broader rebuilding effort they often find themselves stymied by the wild magic fluctuations and the gangs warring with one another over street boundaries. Inhabited neighborhoods do their best to keep their areas clean if a bit rundown. Only the Gang Controlled blocks look unkempt and derelict. Did I mention how dangerous the Gang Controlled blocks are"

* A lot of NPC's and local color " and You can add your own!

You are welcome to overcome any and all of the quirks/environmental challenges above, all we ask is that you do it in a creative manner that explains how your character has accomplished it.

What can you do"

You can do whatever you want to do. All we ask is for you to be considerate of the WestEnd setting and play respectfully with the rest of us.

What can't you do"

You can't kill off or destroy NPC's or local color you did not create. If you didn't make it, you can't break it. But if you made it; you can do whatever you please with it.

You can't blow off the setting and try to remake the WestEnd into your personal vision. Just like in any other FFRP setting there is plenty of room in the WestEnd for you to create your own niche". You don't have to destroy what someone else has created to accomplish it. Be considerate and everyone can have fun.

In our next post to this thread you will find the IC Intro to the WestEnd.

Have questions" Comments" Need further clarification' PM me and I will be happy to chat. In the meantime?

Merry Gaming Kittens!!! Lan

Sid

Date: 2016-05-18 15:56 EST
This is part of the first posting I made in this folder when Artsblood and I introduced it back in November 2005. The below was written as an introduction to this little corner of Rhy"Din I wanted to share.

Silvery light of the half moon illumines the run down WestEnd neighborhood; washing through the bay window of a renovated Brownstone at its center, it falls ghostly across the sprawled occupant of a large wingback chair turned to face the maze-like streets outside.

She sat there, silent; a statue carved of moon-kissed alabaster; dark-threaded eyes of silver true watching all and nothing, while moonlight chased ghosts throughout the shadowed depths of the district and she missed the comfort that came from hearing the even breaths of her sleeping Ebon Knight and Twin Stars on the floors above.

"Interesting little side effect," comes the thought. Hours away from false dawn, a Cheshire-like grin shines out in the darkness as a single spell lamp flickers on two blocks north at Reynaldo's Bruised Fruit and Produce ('dented and bent, never abused"). Rey's youngest, Esme, is beginning the preparations for the coming day; fixing breakfast for her father and brothers so they can get an early start for the Docks to haggle over discarded crates of fruits and vegetables.

All about the Ancient's homestead the view is similar. Amidst the rubble and disrepair of this neighborhood the disenfranchised, and those that feed upon such, have begun to call this home. Her formerly fairly quiet community is beginning to emit the signs of life. More life than just the vermin who crawl amongst its debris, too, though some of the element drifting in does share a resemblance.

Across town, near the edge of the Warehouse district, five Makos dressed in grey dragon hide had a Club Baby cornered at the back of an alley. Bone jarring bass from the Meandering Rave rained dust from crumbling bricks down on the Club Baby's head.

"Och, real big men. Compensatin' for a few shortcomin's, lads?" That Cheshire grin grew wider in the dark, the tip of a pointed ear twitching beneath eerily quiet elflocks. "Five on one. Hardly fair, m'boyos."

Normally, she let nature take its course, but the Makos have been a particular pain in her arse since the gang made WestEnd their home base. Front-runners for a real piece of work she'd yet to learn the name of, this mixed species group of mid-level adepts took pride in head bashing, murder, extortion and a "lovely" little sport they called Rabbit and Hounds. Apparently, the Club Baby was their latest Rabbit.

If the Makos had left well enough alone, she would have continued to see them as just another group of useless flesh bags and let them go about their business; destruction is a part of creation, a part of nature. But, they went and yotzed her off.

By some fluke that she is currently attributing to the side effect of her last dabblings, one of the Makos tailed her as she decloaked inside the neighborhood one night returning home from the Red Dragon Inn. He followed her to the 'stone, and the next day while she and the bairns played in back beneath the Nesting tree a message carrying brick nearly hit her daughter. With one icy smile from the Ancient, the sender of that brick was able to taste his own liver just before the ground opened and swallowed him whole.

Since that time, the Ancient has played her own version of the Makos' game.

Silver eyes blanket in black and the grin grows cold, an image rises darker against the shadows of an alley across town. Sensitive ears twitch with the Club Baby's screaming, and one short nail scratches five lines next to others at the edge of her chair's right arm.

The Bell Tower rings thirteen out across the WestEnd night. Her smile warming, she rises, stretches and turns to head upstairs. Pausing at the second floor landing, she looks out the bay window as an annoying pounding resounds at her front door.