Juzo and Sylvia
In his dreams, he lay on green grass surrounded by ancient trees, a cloudless sky, and an azure sea, while the gentle touch of the summer wind and freshly fallen pink petals were the only variables in his serene and secluded pastime. In these dreams, which began visiting him after his twelfth birthday, he had no need to rush anywhere or be distracted by anything; he could savor a feeling of peace and tranquility to his heart's content, fully surrendering to unity with the universe. But with awakening, the spell was broken, and along with it, the vibrant palette of that magical place gave way to the gray hues of everyday life.
— Juzo! — Throwing the teenager's door wide open, a stout aunt burst inside and busily planted her hands on her greasy hips.
— Huh?.. — Having barely rubbed his eyes, he stared at his aunt with barely concealed irritation on his face, but her perceptive gaze was enough — with agility unusual for such a large body, she rushed over to him and yanked him hard by the ear.
— How much longer can you sleep? Get up!! The work won't do itself!
He didn't argue with her, and besides, it was already too late — thanks to his reddened, throbbing ear, the last remnants of his drowsiness had completely vanished. Seeing that the mission to wake her hapless nephew was accomplished, the stout woman left him alone (but, of course, only temporarily) and went about her own business. Juzo wearily pulled on trousers patched countless times, threw on a shirt, and left his small, rotten little room behind.
Chop off the chickens' heads, pluck their feathers, and gut them — done. Milk the cows — done. Chop firewood — done. Drive the livestock to pasture and feed them — done... The number of completed tasks grew with each passing hour, but not fast enough for there to be any time left in the day for anything else. As always, really.
In the evening, after having dinner, he collapsed into bed in anticipation of his fairy-tale dreams. Far, far away, somewhere on the other side of the world, there was grass green as an emerald, a clear sky, and an azure sea, majestic trees, and a warm wind carrying beautiful pink petals all around. For Juzo, this was the only joy and hope that warmed his young heart, weary of routine and grayness: perhaps someday he would go there. Who knows? Maybe he would even stay there to live... Away from society and its problems.
***
That day, Juzo had a day off, so he wanted to spend it reading books. His parents had taught him to read and write, and they had also left him a dozen or so various books before disappearing from his life — they left their young son in the care of his father's sister and went off to travel. That's how he remembered them — as philosophers and travelers. However, that meant little to him, since his future life would not lend itself to their reunion.
He still read very slowly and uncertainly, but that didn't stop him from deriving genuine satisfaction from immersing himself in the various stories written on the pages of the books his parents had given him.
— Why are you sitting at home on such a fine day? — His reading was interrupted by a voice he had already grown tired of. — Still reading your scribbles. Better go hang out with the other kids.
— But I don't want to…
— What do you mean you don't want to? Everyone's out playing, so you go too. Come on, come on, get up. — The aunt snatched the little book from the teenager's hands and cuffed him on the back of the head with her free hand, leaving no room for argument.
In his home village, Juzo had four "friends": Gregor: the woodcutter's eldest son, narrow-minded and unusually robust for his age, dumb and ugly. Albert: the opposite of his brother Gregor: smart, frail, and handsome. Erwig: the son of a wealthy merchant: strong, smart, and popular with girls; Gregor and Albert had long obeyed him in everything. Edward: the blacksmith's son; contrary to his family's and everyone else's expectations, he had no interest in the blacksmith's trade at all and instead studied in the big city, only occasionally showing up in the village; he was older than the rest and earned his own living.
Today, Gregor held Juzo by his left arm, Albert by his right, while Erwig enthusiastically punched him in the stomach. Juzo didn't resist and took the blows like a sack of manure, making no sound other than pained groans. Finally, the trio got bored and left him alone.
— Well, well, — Juzo wheezed, sprawled on the ground, — that was a nice walk…
He remained lying right where he had fallen, unable to get up, and soon fell asleep.
...
— Hey. Hey!
He was awakened by the pleasant voice of a guy he knew. It was Edward, the blacksmith's son, and the only one he could consider a true comrade.
— Ed?.. — The guy helped Juzo up, and soon he began to come to his senses. — And you... What are you doing here?
— Well, this is my home, actually. — He chuckled. — And you? Erwig again? — Receiving no answer, Ed shook his head disapprovingly. — When are you going to start defending yourself?
— What's the point?.. Nothing's going to change. I'm stuck here with them in this lousy village, like convicts who've done something wrong. Whether I talk back or not, my life won't change. Cows, chickens, the awful aunt... Besides, there are three of them, and I'm alone.
— Listen, I'm sorry... It's partly my fault. I left and basically abandoned you alone with these monkeys. I know you're a smart kid, and your soul craves more than a peasant's life.
— Pff... Pah.
— Well, isn't it true? Let's start small: I'll save up some money, and in a couple of months, I'll take you to see the city.
***
— O-o-oh... — The teenager's eyes burned like stars in the night sky. Juzo and Edward were strolling through the capital of Grisal, and the young country boy didn't miss a chance to announce his origins to everyone around him with his amazement at the people and architecture. — Ed, what's that?!
— That's... — He glanced at the sign near the building the teenager was pointing at and saw a picture of a sword and shield on it. — That's a weapons and armor shop... — Seeing Juzo's eyes light up even brighter than before, he chuckled. — Want to go in?
— Y-yes!
Going inside, Juzo started running around the shop, examining the assortment of goods. He liked the elegant one-handed swords, majestic armor, and noble shields the most. Seeing this equipment, his imagination was immediately filled with various images inspired by the heroes of the literature he had read before: he pictured himself in full regalia, like a knight, a defender of justice and an enemy of evil. Then he remembered that men-at-arms are often depicted riding a loyal steed, and his fantasy ignited even more.
— Ha-ha, — Ed ruffled his young companion's hair, — I see you liked it.
— Ed, can we buy something here?..
— Mm?.. A-ha-ha, — the guy nodded at the price tags, which, however, meant nothing to Juzo, as he had never had his own money before and didn't know what cost what, — not in this century, little brother.
— Oh, alright... — The teenager bid farewell to the various masterpieces of the smith's craft, and soon they left the shop, continuing their journey through the city. Next, they passed by a noisy establishment near which Juzo noticed scantily clad women beckoning them inside. Ed politely declined. — Ed, why aren't we going in there?..
— Uh, it's still a bit too early for you for that, ha-ha...
— Huh?..
In the second half of that day's visit to the capital, Edward introduced Juzo to his acquaintance named Cedric, who, as it soon turned out, was the commander of a mercenary company and was renowned for his combat skill. The details of their relationship were unknown to Juzo, but that wasn't important to him right then, especially since he was now going to learn the art of swordplay from his new acquaintance... To his regret, not a one-handed sword, but a two-handed one: for a reason the teenager didn't understand, the mentor decided that this type of weapon suited him better.
In the near future, Juzo would visit the capital about once a month, each time greedily absorbing new lessons and brilliantly practicing the acquired skills at home with a wooden sword.
***
A few years later, Juzo would leave his home for good and join Cedric's company. By a twist of irony, his old friends from the village would end up there too: Erwig was appointed captain of a squad, while he, along with Gregor and Albert, became his subordinates. The presence of the woodcutter's sons under the thumb of the newly minted captain was, of course, no surprise to him, although he himself was not enthusiastic about working with his fellow villagers.
Erwig's squad wasn't particularly effective at eliminating bandits in the vicinity of Grisal, but it wasn't completely incompetent either. Erwig was a good swordsman and a moderately charismatic leader; Gregor, who had grown even bulkier than in his youth and was clad in heavy plate, was a walking fortress; while Albert acted as a tactician and strategist. Erwig's other subordinates weren't particularly remarkable, and Juzo, who had started learning the combat trade earlier than the others and possessed a natural talent for it, was the strongest fighting unit in the squad. This made Erwig change his attitude towards his fellow villager: whereas before he had been a punching bag, now he was a useful tool in his arsenal.
During this period of his life, the cloudless sky in his dreams filled with all-encompassing clouds. He sat leaning against a thick tree trunk, enjoying the music of the summer rain and thunderclaps, resting from the dreary and, at times, bloody reality.
— Hey, what's with your weird name? — One of his battle comrades looked up from his morning meal and asked Juzo an unexpected question. — Never seen one like it before.
— Born with it. — He answered his interlocutor with a stern look, causing the other to back away. — Do you have a problem with that?
— N-no, just curious...
One of the perks of being the strongest warrior in the squad was that Juzo could afford to keep bothersome comrades at a distance and not waste his free time on them, which he preferred to spend on a pleasant activity — reading books that he bought with his pay. And his name really was unusual, but what his parents were thinking when they named him that, he couldn't know.
One winter of some year, Erwig sent his squad to clear out another bandit hideout in the vicinity of Grisal, but when they reached their destination, they were first surrounded and then taken prisoner.
***
The heavy rain had stopped, and with it, the sun's vigil in the sky was coming to an end. A sunset, crimson like blood, was approaching — a spectacle undoubtedly beautiful and majestic, but also, in some ways, eerie and unsettling. He always woke from these dreams with an inexplicable feeling of anxiety.
Today, on the other half of the arena, stood a tall woman of about thirty, whose body was hidden by dark fabric, behind which there were surely concealed several pairs of various blades. This was Kitara, a warrior renowned in the arena of Arudal. She specialized in knives and daggers, was very agile and fast, and instead of parrying her opponent's attacks, she preferred to avoid them altogether. It was by her hand that Gregor had once fallen; she had first physically exhausted him and then struck him through the eye slit in his massive helmet.
In Juzo's hands was a two-handed sword of dark steel, the hilt of which was adorned with someone's skull. It wasn't the most elegant weapon, and it didn't match his own aesthetic preferences, but it was a gift from the masters, and a slave couldn't choose. Be that as it may, the sword itself was quite good, so complaining would have been stupid and pointless. He firmly gripped the weapon's hilt and rushed towards his opponent with the speed of the wind. Kitara deftly dodged Juzo's lightning-fast strikes, meanwhile inflicting small cuts on him in return, but at one point, her reaction time failed her, and she couldn't avoid a single blow. It was just one swing of the sword, but it was enough to cut her in half. Juzo left the arena to the now-familiar approving howls of the spectators. Out of their sight, he met Albert, who was waiting for him. After that last winter raid, he, like Juzo and Gregor, had fallen into slavery, but unlike them, they didn't make him a gladiator. Instead, he served some wealthy lady who liked his face and sharp mind.
— What do you want? — Juzo cast a contemptuously weary look at his old acquaintance.
— I see you're as cold as ever... I wanted to thank you for avenging Gregor.
— Well, have you thanked me? Then get lost. — The gladiator walked past his hapless comrade. Albert first tried to grab him by the shoulder but stopped himself in time; instead, he ran around and stood before him again. — What now?
— I just want you to know: our last raid was a setup from the very beginning. — Seeing that his words had gotten the other's attention, he continued. — Erwig sold our entire squad to the bandits and then joined them himself. They say he's risen high in that organization's hierarchy over the past few years.
A vein of anger pulsed on Juzo's temple, but with an effort of will, he managed to calm down.
— That Erwig is a piece of shit has never been a secret to me. Don't waste my time on nonsense.
Juzo walked past his old comrade again and never crossed paths with him after that. He continued to win one victory after another and, step by step, earn his freedom.
***
Several years later, Juzo would find himself at the entrance to some cave in the vicinity of Grisal. At his feet lay the lifeless body of a sentry he had killed. He was there for one simple reason — he had lied to Albert about his disinterest in what had happened during their last joint raid, and after being freed from slavery, he began tracking Erwig. For some reason, the thought that the scumbag was living it up after what he had put his subordinates through got on his nerves. He stepped inside the cave and methodically advanced into its depths, leaving bloody bandit bodies in his wake.
After dealing with the remaining outlaws, Juzo found Erwig fast asleep on an improvised bed made of wood and fur. A thought flashed through his mind to cut his throat right then and there while he was still sleeping, but he decided to have a little chat with him one last time.
— Good morning! — Juzo swung and kicked his fellow villager in the head with the toe of his boot, like a ball. Erwig woke up with a yell and, not understanding what was happening, stared at the intruder.
— Who the hell are you?.. Bran, Gil, what are you doing, you bastards? Get in here, now!! — Juzo threw the head of one of his subordinates at Erwig's feet, and he immediately understood everything. — Juzo?..
— You used to be quicker on the uptake. Seems if you live like a pig, you eventually become one.
— So you're alive?.. — The bandit knew lying was pointless. — Listen, I had my reasons, come on... We're businessmen, let's make a deal. I'll talk to the boss, we'll get you a good position, you'll live like a person. He and I are on good terms.
— Ah, sounds great! I agree.
— Really?
— No.
— ... — No matter how much of a scoundrel Erwig was, he couldn't be called a coward. He lunged for his sword, drew it, and entered a duel with his old comrade. Erwig had a clever head on his shoulders and few equals in handling cold steel, but Juzo, hardened by hundreds of arena fights, was an order of magnitude stronger and more experienced. Moments later, the bandit lay on the cold ground in a pool of his own blood. It was clear he didn't have long.
— There's one thing I don't understand, Erwig. Your father was rich, and all paths were open to you, so why did you choose this path?
— Heh... I just wanted to live... Free... Unbound by society and laws...
After Juzo freed himself from slavery in Arudal and dealt with the ghost of his past, he found himself unfit for a normal life. The bloody sunset in his dreams was replaced by a moonless night, and he never knew peace in them again. He dreamed of the faces of everyone whose life he had ever taken, and every morning he woke up in a cold sweat. Trying to forget, he drowned himself in alcohol, stayed in brothels, and sought out ever new opponents for fights. Although he was not aggressive towards those who were not warriors, if someone managed to anger him, heads would immediately start rolling. The more often he had dreams, the more he drank; the more he drank, the more he killed; and the more he killed, the more nightmarish his dreams became. Over time, he attracted the attention of the authorities and became known as the Mad Dog of Grisal. Due to corruption, however, when he was caught, he ended up not in prison or on the chopping block, but in the dungeons of Olaf — the leader of the criminal organization for which Erwig had once worked. The reason was simple: Olaf wanted revenge for the deaths of his subordinates and, in particular, Erwig himself, whom he had regarded very highly. For the next year, Juzo would be subjected to various tortures; Olaf personally gouged out his eye and slashed his face with a knife.
In the summer of the following year, Cedric's mercenary company — the very same one Juzo had once worked for — would raid Olaf's base, allowing the prisoner to escape. However, Juzo's conflict with the bandits did not end there: Olaf and his men would pursue the fugitive all the way to Legia. Juzo managed to defeat all his opponents, but in the duel with Olaf, he lost one of his arms and, wandering through the forest in a random direction, collapsed to the ground near an old hut.
***
Sylvia was born and raised in a wealthy Legian family, never in need of anything, and could afford to pursue her own interests instead of taking up a specific craft or career. Despite this, her life could not be called happy and carefree, because neither her brother nor sister, nor her parents, shared her interest in fiction and her head-in-the-clouds worldview. Furthermore, due to her lack of willpower and inability to say no, people regularly took advantage of her pliability. Unlike her older sister, who was good with a sword and had a multitude of lovers, Sylvia was fragile and fantasized about pure love. She cherished hopes that someday a handsome and noble prince would carry her off on a snow-white steed. He would be smart and strong, gentle with her and kind to others, he would love her and protect her... Such dreams awakened in her imagination every time she locked herself in her family's abandoned hut, which stood nearby in the forest, and read novels. She loved all sorts of literature, of course, but only books of that theme truly brought her joy and inspiration.
One autumn, her sister, as she often liked to do during their rare joint dinners, began pestering Sylvia with questions about her love life. For some reason, she was very concerned that her younger sister not only had no friends but didn't even try to meet anyone. Of course, telling her that the people around her didn't meet her standards, which were based on literary images, was pointless. Sylvia just hoped her sister would leave her alone quickly, as had happened before, but today she wasn't satisfied with vague answers and went further, insisting that Sylvia meet one of her good friends. The girl didn't want to, intending, as usual, to indulge in reading books, but due to her weak-willed character, she couldn't refuse her. At the meeting with this friend, the same thing happened: she couldn't say "no."
Returning home, she went to sleep and, still upset, went to her secret place the next day to immerse herself in stories of other worlds and other people. She decided to reread her favorite novel and, turning the pages of the well-worn book, felt tears streaming down her cheeks. The realization came to her that the previous day she had lost something that could not be restored: her beloved story no longer evoked the same emotional response as before. The realization that her dream had never been possible penetrated deeper into her heart.
One day, having finished reading another book, Sylvia left the old hut and intended to go home, but this day turned out to be different from others: at the door of her little house lay a bloody body. She wanted to scream, but fear temporarily robbed her of her voice. Pulling herself together and acting on instinct, she made sure the man was still breathing, administered first aid, and with great difficulty dragged him inside the hut, where it was warmer and there was something to sleep on. Having finished all this, she long tormented herself with thoughts of what to do next, but her parents weren't home, and she didn't want to turn to her brother or sister. She couldn't leave the sick man to his fate either. In the end, he regained consciousness a few days later, and no one had yet learned of his presence.
— Hey. — The unexpected voice of the man caused the girl to drop the book she was reading. She didn't answer him and froze, not knowing how to react or what to do. — Hey, I'm talking to you.
— ... I'm glad you're feeling better... A-ha... Ha...
— Where am I?.. — After listening to her answer, he was a little surprised and looked around again. — Look, as soon as I get up, I'll cut your head off, so either finish me off yourself or call someone else to do it.
For some reason, she decided these words were a lie. Instead of anger, malice, or irritation, she heard weariness and sadness in this man's voice. She didn't answer him and instead tried to feed him some food she had prepared earlier.
— What are you... You'll regret this!
As it turned out, the man currently didn't even have the strength to resist such a fragile girl.
This situation continued for several weeks: Sylvia would come to the hut where Juzo was resting, take care of him, never daring to share what had happened with her sister or brother, and meanwhile read her books. Over time, he stopped resisting her kindness, and one day curiosity got the better of him, and he asked Sylvia what she was reading. In response, she laughed softly.
— What's so funny?!
— Ha-ha... — After some time, it became noticeably easier for Sylvia to communicate with the stranger, and he no longer inspired fear in her. — I apologize, it's just that you don't seem like someone who would be interested in books, especially novels.
— Really? I'd say that for a book lover, you're very quick to judge a book by its cover.
— Oh, so am I wrong?
— I've read plenty in my time, maybe even more than you.
— Really? Then, if you'll permit me, may I ask you to retell some story from what you've read before? Perhaps something that left a strong impression on you?
"Easy enough," thought Juzo, and then, opening his mouth, he abruptly stopped, realizing he hadn't really read anything since he fell into slavery. A few moments later, with an effort of will, he pulled himself out of his stupor and remembered one of his favorite novels from his adolescence. The words began to form sentences, and without noticing it himself, he began enthusiastically retelling a story he had read long ago to his listener. When he finished, for some unknown reason, tears flowed from his eyes. Surprised, Sylvia gasped and placed her palm over her lips.
— Ah... What's this... — Juzo was very confused. — It seems it started raining. Your roof must be leaking here.
Sylvia looked out the window and saw a sunny, cloudless sky.
After this incident, Juzo and Sylvia continued to communicate on literary topics with great interest; sometimes they even read together, and once, when they came across a story about a minstrel, the girl asked if Juzo was interested in music. He replied that he had never been interested in learning to play himself but loved to enjoy the performances of talented musicians from time to time. However, that was a long time ago, so he wasn't sure if his sympathy for this art still remained. Then Sylvia suggested that on her next visit, she would play him a bamboo flute that her father had once given her.
She had never performed for anyone before, so at that moment, she was very nervous.
— Actually... I don't think this is such a good idea; I play poorly and... I'm sorry for giving you false expectations.
— Oh no, — Juzo was now healthy enough to move freely around the room. — You must keep your word.
She didn't remind him that he hadn't kept his promise to cut her head off.
— Well... Alright.
Still terribly embarrassed, Sylvia finally began her performance.
Her playing was bad, noticeable even to someone like Juzo, who had never had anything to do with music, but for some inexplicable reason, her melodies touched those depths of his soul that the professionals of this art could not reach. Her playing transported him to a place where green grass grew like emeralds, where there was a clear sky and an azure sea, where a warm wind carried beautiful pink petals, recently fallen from the branches of majestic trees.
When she finished and asked if he liked her performance, he didn't answer. He couldn't tell her that it was the best thing he had ever heard in his life.
***
He felt wonderful. Of course, the loss of his arm and the year spent in Olaf's dungeon took their toll, and he would forever remain a shadow of his former greatness, but his psycho-emotional state was as good as could be, similar to those bright days when he first found himself in the big city in the company of his friend Ed. The months spent in Sylvia's company had healed his scarred soul and put his mind in order, but he understood that he no longer had an excuse to stay here: he had finally fully recovered and had to hit the road. He felt there was no place for him next to such a bright and kind girl. Fortunately, it didn't seem that anyone knew of his acquaintance with her, so he could disappear from her life without any consequences for her. Nevertheless, their parting was delayed by the fact that today she was noticeably late, but perhaps that was for the best and he should leave without a word? He probably would have done so, if not for a feeling of anxiety in his heart that made him go straight to her family's home, only to find it engulfed in flames. He saw several charred bodies, and two bandits stood over the recently killed eldest daughter of the family.
— Why did you have to do that... She was pretty. And if you hadn't been her lovers, we wouldn't have known what was where here to get all the jewels out so fast. It's a bit sad.
— Idiot, she would have cut your throat before you could even react. You have to take people like that down immediately.
— Well, if you say so...
— And what are we going to do with this one, boss? — One of the bandits dragged the youngest daughter by the hair.
— We're taking this one with us, and we're getting out of here now. — The bandit leader finally noticed Juzo emerging from the forest. — And who are you? A local?
Juzo ignored the bandit's question and headed straight for the one holding Sylvia. At that moment, his gaze was like the eyes of a mad dog.
— What can you do, you one-armed freak??
The bandit released the girl's hair, drew his sword, and attacked Juzo. He easily dodged the outlaw's strike, grabbed him by the face, slammed the back of his head against the ground, and gouged out his eyes with his fingers. — One hand is quite enough to deal with trash like this. — He picked up a sword from the ground and rushed to cut down the bandits one by one.
***
After this incident, Sylvia had no home left, and after her tearful plea, Juzo had to take her with him, for by a twist of irony, besides the disfigured monster, she now had no one left. Days and long months passed; over time, their strong friendship transformed into love. Sylvia accepted Juzo's dark past, and he had loved her since the day she played the bamboo flute for him, breathing life into his hollow heart. He was not the prince from her fairy tales and fantasies, but in his hands (hand), she felt like a feather unburdened by anything.
At the beginning of their wanderings, due to her lack of experience in independent living, Sylvia was practically useless, and although Juzo never demanded anything from her, she wanted to be useful and tried to learn various skills that might come in handy. She began managing their finances and negotiating and communicating with people on behalf of their small group. When it became known that Sylvia had a talent for studying magic, she made attempts to learn body magic, hoping to one day heal her beloved from the wounds he had received in the past.
Title
Juzo
Origin: Gladiator
+1 to Strength and Agility, the character can achieve mastery in two skills of their chosen melee style and, once per battle, can survive one lethal attack, remaining standing with 1 health point.
Attributes:
Strength: 5
Agility: 3
Willpower: 2
Intellect: 0
Charisma: 1
Parameters:
Health: 175 (262)
Physical Damage: +50% (+75%)
Accuracy: +9% (-1%)
Magic Resistance: +35%
Experience: +0%
Pay: +10%
Speed: 5
Endurance Checks: 8
Agility Checks: 3
Intellect Checks: 0
Willpower Checks: 3 (5)
Charisma Checks: 0
Mutation Points: 0/7
Current Experience: 300
Background:
Love (5): Sylvia. While they are together, both characters make two rolls for Willpower checks and use the highest result. Characters can intercept attacks directed at each other, provided they are on adjacent tiles, and gain +10% Accuracy against opponents who have attacked their beloved. If one of them dies, the second character continues to make two rolls for Willpower checks but uses the lowest result.
Injury (-1): arm — inability to perform actions requiring two hands.
Injury (-1): eye — -10% to attack Accuracy.
Fearsome Appearance (3): at the start of battle, opponents must pass a Willpower check against (10 + character's Strength check) (18) or flee from combat.
Ugliness (-3): the character has such a repulsive appearance that not everyone will want to deal with them.
Bad Reputation (-2): Grisal. Be it revenge from a detractor, simple misunderstanding, or the character's conscious actions, they have earned the hatred of certain people. While few besides possible bounty hunters (if any) will pursue them, staying in places where they have a reputation as a villain will hardly be pleasant.
Bravery (2): The character gains +1 to Willpower and doubles their Willpower check score when needing to pass Fear checks.
Diligence (2): The character gains +1 Attribute point and +250 base Experience (increased or decreased by the Intellect modifier).
Good Reputation (0): Legia. Perhaps the character was lucky to be the child of parents beloved by the people. Perhaps they achieved their current position through their own efforts. Either way, they are always welcome in certain circles.
Mutations:
-
Skills:
- Combat Training (500)
The character gains +25 base Health, +1 to Endurance checks, and +1 to Willpower checks.
- Basics of Antimagic
+25% resistance to magical damage
+2 resistance to negative magical effects
- Two-Handed Weapon (500)
Fighting style using weapons requiring two hands.
- Relentless Force (500)
The character's attacks deal damage to all opponents standing in front of them. Requires the "Two-Handed Weapon" skill.
- Ruthlessness (500)
The damage bonus from Strength increases to 15%. Requires the "Relentless Force" skill.
Equipment:
- Bastard Sword
Requirements: Strength 4+
Damage: 60 (105)
Accuracy: 60% (59%)
Range: 1
Can be used with active grappling
Can be used while riding a horse
- Frost Hydra Scale Mail (medium armor)
Requirements: Strength 2+
+35% resistance to physical damage
Resistance to Water damage is twice as high. (70%)
- Portrait of Juzo and Sylvia
Can be hung on a wall as a reminder of old times. Or can be hung on a door to scare off potential burglars with Juzo's appearance.
- 2485 coins
- Symbol of Loyalty (trinket)
+2 to defensive Willpower checks for a character with the "Love" trait
Only has an effect for the character for whom it was purchasedTitle
Sylvia
Origin: Romantic
+1 to Agility and Charisma, the "Love" trait (Juzo).
Attributes:
Strength: 0
Agility: 1
Willpower: 0
Intellect: 5
Charisma: 5 (6)
Parameters:
Health: 150
Physical Damage: +0%
Accuracy: +3%
Magic Resistance: +0%
Experience: +50%
Pay: +75% (+90%)
Speed: 5
Endurance Checks: 2
Agility Checks: 1
Intellect Checks: 6
Willpower Checks: 0 (2)
Charisma Checks: 5 (6)
Mutation Points: 0/2
Current Experience: 1750
Background:
Potential (3): the character is capable of learning magic.
Cowardice (-2): at the start of each battle, the character must pass a Willpower check against difficulty 10 or flee to save their life.
Empathy (2): The character is good at understanding others' emotions and receives hints from the GM regarding the emotional state of interlocutors.
Diligence (2): The character gains +1 Attribute point and +250 base Experience (increased or decreased by the Intellect modifier).
Diligence (2): The character gains +1 Attribute point and +250 base Experience (increased or decreased by the Intellect modifier).
Mutations:
-
Skills:
- Literacy (500)
The character gains an additional +5% Experience per point of Intellect (+25%) and +1 to Intellect checks.
- Etiquette (300)
The character gains +2 to Persuasion checks in situations where politeness and manners play a role.
- Merchant (500)
Pay for quests and work is higher by (5 * Charisma check score)%. (30%)
Purchase cost is lower by (5 * Charisma check score)%. (30%)
The character sells items for (50 + 10 * Charisma check score)% of their cost. (110%)
- Musician (500)
The character can use a chosen type of musical instrument. In a calm setting (e.g., at a camp), they can perform an inspiring melody and give allies nearby +2 to a chosen type of check until the next battle.
- Body Magic (500)
The art of sorcery based on manipulating the bodies of living beings.
- Hidden Reserves (300)
The chosen character recovers 20% of their maximum Health per turn for (target's Endurance check) rounds. Can be used on a single character only once per day. Requires physical contact with the target.
- Restoration (300)
Out of battle, the caster can use the bodies of fallen opponents, as well as possible volunteers, to heal their own or others' wounds at a ratio of 2 Health points (current for living characters or maximum for dead ones) from the donor per 1 Health point of the recipient.
Equipment:
- Bamboo Flute
- 2150 coins
- Diary
- Writing materials
- Symbol of Loyalty (trinket)
+2 to defensive Willpower checks for a character with the "Love" trait
Only has an effect for the character for whom it was purchased
- Magnificent Hat (useless helmet)
+1 to Charisma
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