Help with STing 7th Sea
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I'm helping a friend run a one-shot 7th Sea game tabletop. He asked me to come up with as many rumors as possible, and I figure there's enough people here who love the game that you might have some ideas. His request is!
Can you create about 20 little 'rumors/tidbits' that sailors and other ne'er do wells might have heard? These should be 3-4 sentences and if you don't know a proper name of a city, place, country, or thing, put it in <> and I'll fill those in. Something along the lines of "You've heard rumors of..." or "In your travels, you've heard mention of..." or "You recall seeing something about..."
Here's an example:
In your travels through Castille, you have heard the common people talking about El Vago. He's supposed to be a daring man, fighting against the Montaigne and other oppressors and giving money and aid to the poor. Apparently he dresses in all purple and uses a whip. The strangest thing is multiple people have claimed to see him in different parts of the country.
Any rumor-type help will bring great entertainment to the 12-15 people playing.
ES
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: ( : ( : (
Why you get my hopes up for nothing?
Why?!
WHY?!
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I kept trying to find a subject-line that wouldn't, @Cobaltasaurus! Eventually I had to give up. There is no subject line that contains "7th Sea" that wouldn't make hearts go pitter-patter.
ES
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I would post self-porn if it got me into a 7th Sea game.
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When sailing the seas around Albion, an insect flying in the open water is a curse. They are courtiers of a Sidhe stronghold, and must be very politely refused when they offer hospitality. Taking food or rest binds a sailors soul to the isle, and refusing calls up the wrath of wave and storm.
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The ancient Eisen made pacts with dragons and to this day some still wear armor and bear arms made from living dragon bone. Never let a blade taste your blood, for it will remember and hunger for it, and never travel with any piece save to return it to its home land.
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Vodacce are very touchy about their honor, and even more clever about their words. Women who have been caught in lies that caused bloodshed are forced to wear veils for their trickery.
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Blood! Blood in the middle of the sea, almost a mile wide, with not a single sign of life for days! I seen it with me own eyes!
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In your travels, you have heard the rumors of a foul plague emerging out of Tortuga. It is carried by the sailors known to be a patron of the Bearded Clam, a well-known, seedy brothel on the east side of the island. Wise swabbies are warned to wash their planks thoroughly after spending their shore leave there -- and to make sure their fellows do the same before engaging in skullduggery below decks while at sea.
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There is a house in the forests of Eisen, that moves around, where a witch lives. She lures in unexpected travelers with promise of food and drink and then bakes them in a giant oven.
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Old rhyme might be appropriate here:
"There are men in the village of Erith
That nobody seeth or heareth
And there looms on the marge
Of the river, a barge
That nobody roweth or steereth" -
Here's a few from the game that we were playing a few months ago:
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Beware the green fog in the morning light, tis the breath o' lost souls and will scour a ship clean o' flesh and bone and leave naught but wood and canvas behind.
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Succor nor rob the merchant princes. One has angered the Mother and woe be to any ship that steal from her vengeance until it be finished.
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Flee the flag o' Captain So&So, they say he has cursed his crew in a deal with the devil for a terrible weapon that cleaves men in twain and cuts through dragons like a ship breaking a wave.
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Off the coast of the Zephyr Isles congregate thousands of green-winged terns, their dark feathers blackening the water. The fishermen and sailors consider them bad luck and shoot them if they get a chance, although it's bad luck to eat their flesh, which tastes foul enough at any rate. The locals say the birds cluster around near whenever somebody's about to die, waiting to steal their soul. Sometimes they fly about silent as the grave, and that means that their prey's escaped. Sometimes they make a deafening din of jubilation, and fly off back to the island where they nest. No one speaks that island's name, nor approaches it neither, for its ringed about by sheer crags and surrounded by fierce whirlpools that will drag a ship into the rocks.
I've heard tell of a small, wooded island that moves around, so no one may find it twice; I've heard many names for it but most call it the Wanderer. At the center of the island is a pool of water so still and clear you'd think you could reach out and scrape the bottom with your fingers, but the best divers of the Bay of Emeralds have tried in vain to reach its depths. Still, they say the water is good to drink- but don't harm a single living thing on that island, beast or bird or tree. One mad old drunk in a bar in Balig told my uncle of how he alone refused out of fear to eat from a wild pig they'd caught. He woke up the next morning alone. Their clothes and gear were all still there, but his shipmates had vanished. Swore he saw a lot more pigs running about, though.