Character Creation: Lordsworn

One o' these dirty hippie GM-less games, I says!

The Game: Lordsworn
The Publisher: Marren's Musings
Degree of Familiarity: None
Books Required: Just the one

Lordsworn is kinda in the same vein as The Skeletons; it's a very focused GM-less game with enough pre-written content to make it cool and playable. It's not for anything past a one-shot, it's playable solo (something I don't have a lot of use for personally, but I appreciate), and it looks like the system is intricate enough to matter but not enough to baffle someone who prefers story games. Let's make a Lordsworn!

Or rather, let's make three. See, the premise of the game is that the God that we all ("we all" being the titular Lordsworn) worshiped is dead, and we are trying to make it home. We might do so, though not all of us will. If a given Lordsworn gets two Wounds, they're out, perhaps dead, perhaps just lost, whatever, but that's why everyone has three characters. Don't worry, they're not hard to make. Just need some d4s and a deck of cards.

So, I actually do have to do some world-building, here, but it's not hard. With a few d4 rolls, I discover that my Company was sworn to Mavos the Mighty, Goddess of Strength, Warfare, Wisdom, and Fire.

Then we roll 3d4 to determine our god's values: I get 1, 3, 1. I use these to answer three questions: What was Mavos' motive for going to war? What effect has Mavos' death had upon the world? What Mark, the result of proximity to Mavos, now blesses our bodies? Each of these has four listed answers, and I pick one for each corresponding to one of my rolls. Respectively, I pick:

I know that the first two seem a little contradictory, but I like the idea that Mavos' death has led to the worst parts of her becoming rampant.

Right, next, same thing, but for Home: 4, 2, 2. This determines our home's Name, a unique geographical feature, and what home was known for. I shall put one of the 2s into Name, which means our Home is called Trufast. The other two get the 4 and the 2, respectively, which means:

So now I roll to see about my Captain (also dead). Said captain is Fearsome, which means I roll 3d4 on the "Fearsome" tables. And doing so...I get straight 4s. OK, that'll make this easy. Our symbol is a howling wolf, our colors are yellow and red, and our motto is "Strength & Might."

Right, so now we actually make the Lordsworns, which requires the spades and hearts of a deck of cards. 'Scuse me a moment. I draw the 3, 2, and 7 of Spades (I am heartless). This gives me the Ancient Ascetic, the Crestfallen Hero, and the Eagle-Eye Sharpshooter.

So for each of these, I roll 3d4 and assign one value to each of the three columns, and then do the basic name n' description thingie. Let's go ahead and do that, and that'll basically put me done because there's no sheet to upload.

Th'rok the Deeprooted, the Ancient Ascetic: Th'rok is one the berserkers, the men whose rage and connection to Mavos runs so close the the surface that it required magical intervention. He is covered in tattoos from head to toe, some as protectives, some as calming measures, some as warnings to others, and he doesn't wear much else so as to show them. Th'rok carries three things always: A curved blade, a jug of water, and a small defensive charm given to him by his one-time apprentice. His apprentice did not survive the War. Th'rok does not remember his name.

Aeylon the Fool, the Crestfallen Hero: Aeylon used to be call the Hope. When he set out from the Collegium, he wore the Crown of Mavos' Chosen. It floated above his head like a dire halo. He rode into war carrying the Dragon-Piercer Spear, and everyone expected great things of him. But no more so than Daihmon, his paramour. Daihmon rode into battle as well, but with a different battalion, and they swore they would survive for each other or that their last breath would be the other's name. Aeylon does not know what Daihmon's last word was. He was too far away, losing the battle, watching Mavos die, like a fool.

Alisdair the Blessed Thunder, the Eagle-Eyed Sharpshooter: Alisdair came from wealth and power. His family were among those that built the Collegium, or so they say. They forged the Dragon-Piercer Spear and from the first slain dragon, took the leathers that now make up Alisdair's boots and vest (or so they say). He carries a golden locket, inside a picture of a paramour sworn to wait for him (or so he says). The truth is that Alisdair might be lying about literally everything, save this: What he aims at with his long, slender-barrel rifle, dies.

And that's pretty much it! Like I said, no sheet. I'd give this a whirl, I think.