Misty Murder

Welcome to your campaign!
A blog for your campaign

Wondering how to get started? Here are a few tips:

1. Invite your players

Invite them with either their email address or their Obsidian Portal username.

2. Edit your home page

Make a few changes to the home page and give people an idea of what your campaign is about. That will let people know you’re serious and not just playing with the system.

3. Choose a theme

If you want to set a specific mood for your campaign, we have several backgrounds to choose from. Accentuate it by creating a top banner image.

4. Create some NPCs

Characters form the core of every campaign, so take a few minutes to list out the major NPCs in your campaign.

A quick tip: The “+” icon in the top right of every section is how to add a new item, whether it’s a new character or adventure log post, or anything else.

5. Write your first Adventure Log post

The adventure log is where you list the sessions and adventures your party has been on, but for now, we suggest doing a very light “story so far” post. Just give a brief overview of what the party has done up to this point. After each future session, create a new post detailing that night’s adventures.

One final tip: Don’t stress about making your Obsidian Portal campaign look perfect. Instead, just make it work for you and your group. If everyone is having fun, then you’re using Obsidian Portal exactly as it was designed, even if your adventure log isn’t always up to date or your characters don’t all have portrait pictures.

That’s it! The rest is up to your and your players.

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Aspect Change

Gennady walked down the darkened Seattle streets towards Messut’s Land Rover with his usual controlled pace. His whole posture spoke of physical neutrality, no more committed to tense than relaxed. He attempted to take everything in and assess the threat level. But even that process was more automated than usual. Most of his thoughts were committed to the usually turbulent thoughts within, now roiling and raging. He kept looking to Messut and Jing to see if they noticed, as he could hear swear they could be heard clattering against his skull.

“Treble, fuck her, fuckin’ fey-privileged cunt,” The words battered at Gennady’s resolve, clawing to be free. “Your name is Gabriela Barret, nothing like the stripper-moniker you have strapped to yourself, slag. What is wrong with that name? It is a good name, a sensible name. But no, you feel compelled to dress like punk rock puked on a call girl and call yourself Treble? The fuck is that?”

Anyone watching Gennady would have noticed his eyes narrow a modicum, the only noticeable sign of his inner turmoil. Some other part of his psyche, the part not screaming obscenities, seemed to be smirking knowingly.

“Worth her time?” The inner rage shouted. But this was the easy rage. The child rage, never mature, and never convicted enough to stay committed. This rage was one of abruption and impulse. This was not the pure rage talking, the rage that immersed Gennady, embraced him, blocking out all the noise. “Dealings with human traffickers, and god only knows what illicit shit her sycophants are dealing in. Nice jackets by the way, look like a goddamn Gem and the Holograms fan club. No one wants the Wardens around as I understand it. Even people who aren’t up to anything! As if us working to avoid that shit-storm wasn’t enough. And that goddamn smile..”

The child rage didn’t notice the knowing smirk begin to smile, seeming to be imbibing a very pleasant memory.

“So fucking confident! Like she has all this shit figured out. And then another smile, like a fucking lioness,” The child rage spat.

“And yet she knows,” The knowing smirk spoke. “She knows what we know. She has been enraptured in the moment. She knows what it is to succumb to this thing inside you, with no worry or recompense. No thought of foregone or forthcoming conclusion,” The knowing smirk didn’t need to batter against the bone Gulag that was Gennedy’s head. It seemed to know things, things that made it so that it didn’t have to fight to be free. Almost as if the freedom was assured.

The child rage listened now as the knowing smirk continued, “And that touch no? So gentle and powerful? Even when chastising, there was something exquisite to it. Like savoring and dreading that moment of pain from a lover, holding back as long as your sanity will allow, before finally needing to shriek out the “safe word”.

The child rage was gone now. And the knowing smirk grinned all the wider. Another stream of thought suddenly manifested in the inner whirlwind.

It was Gennady’s realization. Forced to become hard from the battering of circumstances that been Gennady’s life to date, but always looking on the verge of surrender. This was no exception as it breathed a thought more than spoke it allowed, “Gaawwd damnit…I love her.”

Gennady will be swapping Effin’ chics for Goddamnit, I love her.

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