Culver

So I read Last Train out of Warsaw the other day, and part of its character sheet has these two really interesting sections: a WE ALL WONDER section and a AND WE KNOW section.

I'd like to put that forward as a format for the hooks attribute. It puts forward three open questions and a way point to pass through in how you see your current arc playing out.

Here's a couple of examples from the pdf:

For The Fireman:

WE ALL WONDER:
* What secret are you keeping from your family, and how will they discover it?
* Why do you hate the Ukrainians so much?
* What surprising skill does a dumb coal-shoveling ox like you possesses?

AND WE KNOW:
* You will choose your family over everything else, at terrible cost.


For The Countess:

WE ALL WONDER:
* Who are you really? It’s sort of obvious that you aren’t nobility.
* Why do you drink in secret?
* Who among the other player characters will you choose as your protector?
AND WE KNOW:
* You will get drunk at precisely the wrong time.


And, because this LJ is all about me, reproducing Culver's here:


WE ALL WONDER:
* What he wouldn't do for his long-dead wife
* Whether he is a power-mad necromancer or playing a deep game
* If anyone can replace Oberon in his eyes

AND WE KNOW:
* He will die at the hand of a family member.


Random sits at a table and appears to be playing a large game of blackjack by himself.

Culver's striped horse fights him before it consents to setting hoof on the wider of the two circles of cracked earth bisecting the Black Road.
Culver says, "You see?"

Fiamme chokes on her wine, almost spitting it back up onto the table. "You /what/?"

Culver explains patiently, "Looked up what it'd take to make myself Chancellor."
Culver says, "It's not so strange is it? I'm not mad, am I?"

asofterworld.com

You concentrate on Caine's Trump...
The contact with Caine comes like an icy wind.

The image of Caine is wandering around in bushes by a wall, peering at it before focusing on the contact. "Yeah?" Supremely relaxed, this guy.

( Culver is laid up by a long-ago charcoaled tree. )

--[ Dark Clouds, Dark Deeds(#2450RJ) ]-----------------------[ Somewhere ]----
    Leaden sky. The Black Road. Creatures unwholesome. And the reek of death.                                                                    
    Culver and Yami are here.                                                 
-----------------------------------------------------------[ Exits: None ]----


Culver is about some bad business, that's for sure: he is bringing Blight to the Black Road. He has guards of formerly Black Road creatures, and yet more working to fortify this position. His attention is on the great striped horse by him, soothing it and talking to it.

( There is a tug on Culver's senses. )

You concentrate on Bleys's Trump...
The contact with Bleys comes like an icy wind.

The image of Bleys is at a desk, looking over some terrain maps. He has a wax pencil in hand, which he is using to mark places upon the maps.

To the image of Bleys, Culver is in a comfortable chair somewhere dimly lit and high up. An opera at half time.

( The image of Bleys lifts his head. )

(This is actually two logs stitched together -- it is from shortly before Culver acquired Hippo.)

--[ Reinforcements Have Arrived ]-------------------[ Somewhere ]----
    The suppurating mess of the Black Road, oozing with bad things, and       
    bad premonitions.                                                         
    Culver and Fiamme are here.                                               
-----------------------------------------------------------[ Exits: None ]----

Fiamme reins her bay horse over a little, so that it walks closer to Culver's. "The thing about Jade, uncle, is that Prince Benedict has spent enough time here to take more than mild offence at your interest in it. For I must assume you have an interest here, and Irene has not sent you here for more tea."

Culver says, "I won't try to conceal the fact that he will take offence is a minor factor in my decision to take, as you say, an interest."
( Culver has an ambling, dopey looking horse )

--[ Lions And Tigers And Hyenas, Oh My ]------------[ Somewhere ]----
    Scrub. Broken ground. Shredding wind. A horse pinned down by a stake,    
    and caged predators waiting just off stage.                              
    Addison and Culver are here.                                             
-----------------------------------------------------------[ Exits: None ]----

Addison takes the trip to Penglai through the Dead Express. This time, it's snake found, bought and paid for in Little Market that comes from a trader who can be reliably tracked back to the correct Shadow of the Thousand Shadow Empire of Penglai. The snake is slain in a rather bloody sort of way and Addison walks along the very quiet path of the dead. His pidgin Penglai, picked up from working nearly a year in the streets of the Lower City among the masses, gets him to the right place and he arrives in time to view his Uncle. And Hippo. The great horse Hippo. He stands on a hill overlooking the scrub and the broken ground and the shredding wind and calls out: "What the hell are you doing, Uncle Culver?"
( Culver holds up a finger. )

Culver is civilising his court as much as he can manage with the tools at hand. He's laid in a supply of drink, clothes, and food that isn't fruit or seared meat of dubious provenance. He welcomes Caine to his encampment and supplies them both.
Culver says, "To friendly faces. I have to assume you've spoken to your sister."

( Caine looks and smells worse for wear. )

--[ Rode The Six Hundred ]--------------------------[ Somewhere ]----
Blistering heat, cracked earth, the shimmering of mirage, and only one
way to travel.
Culver and Emma are here.
-----------------------------------------------------------[ Exits: None ]----
Culver trudges, head down and limp as old lettuce for all he's not sweating.

Emma is much, much perkier looking than her uncle. She's seated on the cracked earth, legs stretched out before her, looking for anything like she's taken a trip to the beach and is enjoy a good dose of sunbathing. She's not in a bikini, however, but is dressed for jungle weather, shirt knotted at her midriff to reveal... tattoos? Tsk. She also has a rapier at her side, carefully arranged next to her where she sits.

Culver's clothes are a mess. As is he in general. His expensive shirt has been ripped up to make the closest thing to a clean bandage for his left hand. He has multiple shreddings from going past thorny bushes at speed, let alone the snappings of wildlife. His customary sword has been replaced with an ugly affair of one, bristling sharp rocks lashed to a stick.

( Emma glances over to see the man's progress down the valley )

Yami is standing just a little below Benedict at the top of a temple. "I have been sent to search for Lord Culver, Your Holiness."

Benedict snorts. "Highness is the honorific, thank you. Sent /as/ a Feldane?" He comes down the steps. Ziggurats are good that way - Alhambran pyramids are hard to climb.

( Yami bows her head to Benedict. )

--[ Humid, With A Chance Of Human Sacrifice ]-------[ Somewhere ]----
    Skulls, open bonfires, and frenzy. There's a giant throne as the         
    centrepiece.                                                             
    Culver and Irene are here.                                               
-----------------------------------------------------------[ Exits: None ]----

Culver sits atop the throne lashed together from bamboo as the barely dressed natives rout in honour of him. He's been mauled and bruised by some great calamity, and this discomfits him. He broods as he works his lures for the folk of Feldane.

Irene's curiosity has always been a weakness. Hard as it may be for the younger generation to believe, it leads her into trouble now and again - such as now, when she veers away from the people with her to follow a trail. The arcane breadcrumbs lead her, bit by bit, away from the right companions until she is peering around the edge of an outcropping at precisely the wrong company. The sight that greets her makes her stare a moment and then, unwisely, expose herself: "Oh good *stars*, how typically male!"

Given I've been away some time, I thought I'd offer up two imaginary cards:

The first card, whoever claims it first, I will support far beyond anything reasonable.
The second card, whoever claims it first, I will hate with a burning passion and conspire to see their embarrassment, their ruin, and the untimely demise of their pets.

The former will have to be tempered, of course, with the knowledge that I may be stabbed in the face before you get any actual use of it.

This log is a 3.7 on the Emo Scale.

Obviously, if you're reading this, et cetera, et cetera.

I apologise if I was driven to killing any of ours.

But, then, if I did break, they should have known it was a possibility when they decided to come after me, and to not let it slide just this once. The rest of you will know to take it a bit more seriously in future, so there's a consolation for in a few years. That and they were executing one of their sacred duties.

Hope you caught them. Hope you caught me as well, as it happens. Remind me that I should be only to happy to go over where they fell down once we get whatever unpleasantness you have in mind out of the way.

I have the conceit that if I ask you to not blame C___, you will not. So that's settled.

Affectionately,
~C.

( Erasmus steps in from outside, his Hound uniform adding only a little color to the office area. The man stops, gazing about with interest, either as a newcomer or long-ago visitor. )

I thought I should make this invitation explicit:

If there's something you want to succeed at against Culver, please lay it on me either in comments here, by page, or +mail. I won't quibble; I might throw a Yes, And back at you, but I'll try not to for the near future.

Bring it!