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Robert E. Howard’s Conan: Adventures in an Age Undreamed Of takes you into the world of Conan the Barbarian, where heroes raise blood-spattered swords against dire sorcery, exotic lands beckon to the daring, danger and treasure lurks in forgotten ruins, and where loathsome creatures haunt the spaces beneath the earth… as well as in the throne-rooms of mighty kingdoms!

Seek your fortune in forbidden tombs or upon blood-soaked battlefields. Cast dark and terrible spells of unimaginable power, at the price of your soul. Sail upon untamed seas to lands where no human in living memory has walked. Fight for the fate of civilization — or barbarism — on a savage frontier.

Create your own legend in this decadent and violent world!

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  2. [Pilot] Hither came...

    Freya stayed silent except for a low growl only the Zingaran could hear. Her left hand shot out and wrapped around the wrist of the mans sword arm hold it out away from their bodies. Bearing her teeth like some feral creature she pressed in, her knife held low. From Dracian's view it looked like she was pulling the man into an embrace. The growl grew louder in the mans ear as she closed in pressing her body to his her cheek against his her hot breath on his neck. The pain as the point of her knife slid into his groin. “If whore I am, then blood is my price.” She whispered slowly with the passing of each syllable she pushed the blade deeper and ripped upwards. Dracian watched as the two seemed to dance, the Zingarans eyes wide his mouth an O of shock. The North woman's muscled back rippling with sure and strong heaving. Then Dracian noticed the blood. At first it was a few drops, then a steady drip and finally it pour to pool the ground between the two. Frey let go of the Zingaran who simple crumpled, disemboweled, eyes staring blankly at whatever hell awaited him and his companions. She turned to face Dracian, her chest and stomach covered in the blood of her victim, a gleam of excitement in her eye.
  3. Earlier
  4. [Pilot] Hither came...

    "Northern whore," the footman spewed at her with rage. "You will die for interfering!" He lunged a her his dueling blade shimmered in the sun's light glimmering brightly. Freya's battle trained eyes locked onto that shimmer, that tell tale mark on the blade that told her exactly where it was was going to be, and more importantly, when. The man had drastically over estimated his own abilities and the fiery northern woman swift to remind him of his place. The clang of steel on steel resonated with a harsh echo as her knife caught the blade's edge and turned it aside effortlessly. His lunge left her dangerously close to the northern barbarian with out the defense of his weapon...
  5. [Pilot] Hither came...

    Shooting a fiery glance at the mouthy Argosian, Freya growled and drew her knife from her belt. Closing on the Zingaran who was still on his feet, she easily deflected his blows with both Knife and shield. Then, with a quick lunge. her shield knocked the thin sword away and she drove the knife into the mans belly, up below the ribs. She pushed in closer, spit in the mans face, "Go to hell Zingaran pig," and slid the knife into his heart. With a joyous laugh she pulled the knife free, letting the body drop, and spun to face the last Zingaran, who was just regaining his feet. "Haha! Come dog, now it is your turn. I will even make it fairer for you." She said dropping her shield as she circled the man waiting for his attack.
  6. [Pilot] Hither came...

    "So!" The man said as he parried a lunge for his head with a quick swat of his wrist. "My fiery rescuer... you come here often?" The man was lithe and agile, moving around like a man who was less a soldier and more survivor. Thankfully the arrival of the Vanir had the fools so off balance that he was practically doing all he could to stop from bursting out into laughter. He could not have planned this any better, which was true, considering before she arrived... he had no plan at all. Fueled with rage, and possibly some desperation, the one soldier giving him attention was becoming more frustrated with every missed blow that Dracian smirked when he finally saw his opening. He parried high, knocking the mans weapon away high and wide as he pivoted his body, turning about so his back slammed into the man's front. The soldier's eye widened as he felt the curved sword slide through him. While Dracian parried with one blade, he stabbed with the other. The soldier died, slumping over, his head resting on Dracian's shoulder. He let the man comfortably fall to the floor. "I know, I know, that sounds like a line," He said, his accent was thick and rich. He spun his blades until they faced downward, sticking into the soil where he rested on them like twin canes. "What was it that drew you here, hm? The salty sea air? The crashing of the waves? The scent of a real man?" He waggled his eye brows at her while she fought for her life, a roguish grin imprinted across his lips. He casually walked around the perimeter of her battle, like it were a pit match. She shot him an icy look. "Don't look at me, look at them... they're the ones trying to kill you, luv." He swatted his finger away from himself and at her and the gentleman, shooing her gaze from him in a gesture for her concentrate on the battle at hand.
  7. [Pilot] Hither came...

    The three remaining Zingarans attempted to recover but the battlefield had already melted into chaos. With two of their own dead already and now a raging Vanir female in the fray, their tactics melted away as well. Two went for the Vanir woman. Screaming in outrage they raised their weapons and charged her. One swung at her wildly. With no sword, she punched him in the face and he staggered to the side. The second was even less lucky. With his blade still raised in what would be an awkward downward slash, Frey rushed him, slamming into him with her shield and raising him up off the ground several feet where he soared over her and slammed onto the ground with a hard thud that tore the wind from his lungs. The Argossian continued to twist and parry, his blades a whirling shield in front of him that tuned aside the attacks of the one man he had to deal with.
  8. Conan:AAUO OOC Thread

    Conan age undreamed of character generator can be found here. http://conan.modiphiusapps.hostinguk.org/
  9. Conan:AAUO OOC Thread

    Importantly, Effects rolled on the damage dice trigger various Qualities (described on pages 151–154 of Chapter Six: Equipment) possessed by a given attack. These can, in turn, influence the amount of damage the attack inflicts or other Effects it produces.
  10. Heroes of the Age

    Name: Dracian of Messantia Homeland: Argos (Sea Raider) Caste: Outcast Caste Talents: Embittered, Survivor Story: One of the Rabble Trait: Betrayed Archetype: Master Thief Nature: Sneaky Education: Traditional War Story: Plundered a Merchant Vessel Languages: Aquilonian, Argossian (Exp/Focus/TN) AGILITY: 9 -Acrobatics - 2/2/11 -Melee - 1/1/10 -Stealth - 2/2/11 AWARENESS: 11 -Insight - 0/0/11 -Observation - 2/2/13 -Survival - 0/0/11 -Thievery - 5/5/16 BRAWN: 8 -Athletics - 2/2/10 -Resistance - 0/0/8 COORDINATION: 14 -Parry - 1/1/15 -Ranged Weapons - 2/2/16 -Sailing - 2/2/16 INTELLIGENCE: 7 -Alchemy - 0/0/7 -Craft - 1/1/8 -Healing - 0/0/7 -Linguistics - 0/0/7 -Lore - 0/0/7 -Warfare - 0/0/7 PERSONALITY: 8 -Animal Handling - 1/1/9 -Command - 1/1/9 -Counsel - 0/0/8 -Persuade - 1/1/9 -Society - 1/1/9 WILLPOWER: 7 -Discipline - 0/0/7 -Sorcery - 0/0/7 Talents: Ancient Bloodline, Society (A Modicum of Comfort), Parry (Deflection), (Thievery (Thief), Ranged Weapons (Accurate) Attacks: -Brawl (M): Reach 1 / 1H / Damage 2 -Scimitar: Reach 2 / 1H / Damage 3 /Q-Calvary 1, Parry -Scimitar: Reach 2 / 1H / Damage 3 /Q-Calvary 1, Parry -Shemite Bow: L / 2H / Damage 3 /Q-Piercing 1, Volly -Knife to the Throat: C / Damage 4 /Q-Stun, Vicious 1 *Dracian is fond of using the dual-weilding momentum spend when using his scimitars. Soak: -Armor - 2 (Boiled Leather) Torso, Legs -Courage - 0 Stress/Harms: Vigor - 8 | Wounds - Resolve- 8 | Trauma - Social: -Social Standing - 0 -Renown - 0 -Gold - 9 Other Belongings: Twin scimitars (exquisitely crafted), Shemite Bow, Plain Traveling Clothes, Padded Jerkin (1 Armor) Background: Dracian was, at some point in his youth, a petty noble. For reasons unknown and he doesn't seem unwilling to discuss, he was cast from his family. Disowned and left to fend for himself he soon took up with the beggars and thieves of the streets of Argos. In time he grew skilled in the arts of thievery and eventually took to the seas. By the time he was fifteen he'd already taken command of a vessel and sacked merchant ships for plunder as far as the Southern Isles. His crew was swiftly getting rich, and life was good. For more reasons unknown (which he doesn't seem willing to discuss) Dracian lost his crew, and his ship, The Peregrine. Dracian is a tall, handsome man with sun kissed skin and long black hair usually bound tightly in a pony tail. In silvery moonlight his deep, midnight black, hair possesses a sheen of purple to it. His eyes are gray, but again in the light of the moon they often appear to swirl with several colors, like the surface of a pearl. He has a secret talent in his uncanny accuracy, as most feats of coordination are simple for him. He doesn't appear to be a skilled warrior, but he's able to deflect blades aside with lightning speed and to his knowledge he's never missed anything he's ever aimed for. A consummate thief and a con man, Dracian is a man who has shirked responsibility his whole life. He acquires fortunes only to piss them away with whores and booze. He knows more women than any man should ever admit to and he's lied to them all. He can usually be found passed out in an alleyway or drunk in a brothel spending coins he's nicked from someone else. He once paid a prostitute with the money he'd just stolen from her. Usually if his lips are moving, he's lying.
  11. [Pilot] Hither came...

    The Argossian spun about, whirling his blades. The northern woman arrived and the distraction she caused gave him just the opening he was waiting for. That one tick where his opponents took their attention off him opened up the opportunity for his blades to do the work they were meant to. His right blade swiftly cut low, slicing deep into one of their right thighs, just above the knee. He screamed in pain and fell to a kneel as the second blade sliced opposite, slitting the man's throat in a single swipe. "Say what y'will about northerners, gents... they sure know how to make an entrance." He stepped away, blades at the ready. His grin was a twisted mark of sarcasm, suave, and self-confidence. "Welcome aboard luv, pick a fool, kill im'. Repeat as needed, eh?"
  12. Heroes of the Age

    Simeon of Koth Gender: Male Age: 42 Homeland: Koth Caste: Merchant Story: Profits from the Road Trait: Well-Traveled Archetype: Alchemist Nature: Academic Education: Family Footsteps War Story: Survived a Duel Languages: Kothic, Argossian, Zingaran Skills [Expertise/Focus/Total]: AGILITY: 7 -Acrobatics – 0/0/7 -Melee – 0/0/7 -Stealth – 0/0/7 AWARENESS: 10 -Insight – 1/1/11 -Observation - 1/1/11 -Survival – 2/2/12 -Thievery – 1/1/11 BRAWN: 7 -Athletics – 0/0/7 -Resistance – 2/2/9 COORDINATION: 7 -Parry – 1/1/8 -Ranged Weapons – 0/0/7 -Sailing – 0/0/7 INTELLIGENCE: 14 -Alchemy – 4/4/18 [Formulas: Exploding Powders, Blinding Powders, Reinforced Fabrics, Talismans, Lotus Pollen] -Craft – 0/0/14 -Healing – 2/2/16 -Linguistics – 1/1/15 -Lore – 3/3/17 -Warfare – 0/0/14 PERSONALITY: 7 -Animal Handling – 1/1/8 -Command – 0/0/7 -Counsel – 1/1/8 -Persuade – 2/2/9 -Society – 2/2/9 WILLPOWER: 10 -Discipline – 1/1/11 -Sorcery – 1/1/11 Talents: Ancient Bloodline [Whichever Dave thinks is most appropriate]: TBD Alchemy – Alchemist: You may re-roll one d20 when attempting an Alchemy test, but you must accept the new result. With this talent, you can also substitute Alchemy for ranged weapons when using an alchemical weapon. Alchemy – Dabbler: Having studied many alchemical formulas, you are comfortable with making your own discoveries through experimentation. You are not restricted as to which petty enchantments you would make but doing so is very expensive. You must spend three times the number of reagents needed before making any alchemy test to build a petty enchantment for which you do not have the Master of Formulae talent. Alchemy – Poisoner: You’ve made a study of toxic plants and animal venoms and can distill their essences down to a single dose, to be administered by mouth or at the end of a weapon. You have access to lotus pollen petty enchantments and all other venoms. Strife: With fractious nobles and near constant civil war, it pays to be attentive. Each day when in your homeland, you can make a free Simple (D0) Lore test. Each point of Momentum gives you a general idea as to whether there will be a major disturbance that day. While matters can take a turn at any point (and this doesn’t account for the actions of you or your allies) this test should provide accurate — if nonspecific — information about the general feel of the region. Survival – Herbalist 1: A character with the Herbalist talent can use the Survival skill to forage for herbs and other plants for a variety of uses (see The Book of Skelos for more details). Tradesman: You have passed apprenticeship with a tradesman or within a guild. While your talent may be mediocre or worse, at least you have a fallback plan. When Carousing, if you do not have sufficient Gold to pay your Upkeep, you may offer your services to a tradesman or to a guild in order to cover your Upkeep. However, you may not take any other actions during that period of Carousing. Vagabond: The road is more home to you than any town or city ever has been. Whether a nomad by choice or necessity, you can reduce the Difficulty of Survival tests by one, so long as you are on a maintained road. This may reduce the Difficulty of tests to Simple (D0). Attacks: Brawl (M): - Shortsword: Reach 1, Size 1H, Damage 4[CD], Parrying, Enc 1 Soak: 2 -Armor: Reinforced Clothing -Courage: 0 Stress/Harms: Vigor: 9 | Wounds: Resolve: 11 | Trauma: Fortune Points: 2 Social: -Social Standing: 1 -Renown : 0 -Gold: 9 -Upkeep: 4 Other Belongings: Alchemical field laboratory Personal library Healer's Bag Seasonal clothing Traveling gear 3 ingredients Mule A solid, well-crafted armband made of copper Cheap fabrics richly dyed in the fashion of the nearest town or city Background: Simeon comes from a long line of peddlers and dealers in all sorts of concoctions. Some were out and out charlatans, but his branch acquired an alchemist a few generations back, plus herbalists, so he was tutored in the carefully guarded family lore. Of course, Koth is not exactly a safe place for traveling... well, more so than other civilized nations in this Hyborean Age are. This, plus an unfortunate case of challenging – where a young blood of upper class origin accused him of selling his father some false curative – THE IDEA?!?! Well, Simeon made it out alive... mainly by bribing someone to put a certain something in the youth's drink, all to look perfectly like a case of lethally impairing hangover upon the dueling ground. That was easily fifteen years ago at least, and he's been moving along all these years...
  13. [Pilot] Hither came...

    The banter covered what little noise Freya made as she crept closer crouching in the bushes weighing the scene before her.. The five Zingaran's were typical of their kind, swarthy, lanky and none to appealing despite the finery of their regalia. The Argossian, for that is what she judged him to be from look, accent, and the way he carried himself , was more pleasing to look upon. Also his movements were calculating and quick. Showing both skill and cunning, he didn't attack but waited using his twin blades to weave a wall keeping the other at a distance. But still it was only a mater of time before one of the five flanked him. That it was five against one was enough to raise her blood. That it was of no business of hers what happened here mattered not. The Argossian knew his way around Kordova, and she did not, saving him would put him in her debt and slaying the black hearted Zingarian's would be a pleasure she could savor. All this took but a second of time for Freya to observe. Then the swords clashed and the jungle reverberated once again with the joyous sound of battle. Her pack slid from her shoulder to lie on the ground, no time to don her mail or helm, Freya set her shield and rose drawing her broadsword. With a lusty cry she charged into the fray at the closest Zingaran “Stand firm friend! We shall send these Zingaran dogs to hell soon enough!” The Zingaran heard Frya's shout and half spun to meet her but he was too late. Her sword pierced his side and her momentum and strength drove the steel almost through him and out the opposite side. Transfixed the man died with blood gurgling from his lungs. Freys yanked on her sword but it was stuck fast in the mans body. No time to wrestle it free she continued her charge with shield alone.
  14. Conan:AAUO OOC Thread

    Conan: An Age Undreamed Of is a Mature setting. The writing will be of a very mature nature and this is the only disclaimer I will make. If you can't handle the material presented, simply stop reading and move on to another game thread. No harm, no foul. If I recieve PMs from individuals mounted upon their horses that wish to explain to me why it wrong to write about 'X' or how 'Y' is simply not something to take lightly I can assure you, from the bottom of my heart, I will read your words, roll my eyes, and ignore everything you said. So, save yourself key strokes. I'm an animal lover but I didn't write a letter to Stephen King and demand he apologize to me after I read Cujo and later Pet Cemetery. That said, this is the OOC for Conan. Currently this is a Writing Project. Nina an I want to see how well the rules will translate into a Play By Post forum. If not, then we can take a coat hangar to this thing before we get too far along and dodge some head aches down the road. If this works however, I'll be hitting Nina up for child support.
  15. [Pilot] Hither came...

    She was four more days from Kordova and the Black River. To the right, her West, the endless Western Sea stretched on endlessly. The air was damp and the sea spray barely crawled up the cliff face to kiss her skin. Her read hair was pulled back and tied with a leather thong to keep it away and out of her eyes as her sweat mingled and soaked it into wet strands. The weather was hot and she'd been moving for most of the day, jogging mostly and bursting into a faster pace from time to time in order to keep make sure that hew quarry wasn't too far ahead of her. Bithulimon, the man she'd been after for the past four months was not going to escape her this time. His raids on the Vanaheim coast were legendary as were his appetites for their women. While the proud Vanir easily could boast proud warriors of either gender, his targets were the young and the weak. Slaves by the score he'd take from their homeland. Defile them for years and finally either break them or butcher them. When properly broken he'd finally sell them for a profit. Common rumor held that his harem of fiery haired Vanir women was close to twenty and not one had reached her eighteenth winter. It wasn't easy to get this lead, she knew. The man who could get her to Bithulimon was, if stories were to be believed, currently on the wrong side of Zingaran law. She had less than a week to get to Kordova and break him out of prison before they executed him. How was she going to spring him from a Kordovan dungeon? She had no clue. She did have four days to come up with a plan however. She dashed through the brush and sprang over a downed tree, leaping off she continued her stride and slid in the leaves letting her momentum carry her down a muddy slope. With a single leap she crossed a small creek and all the while she never broke her stride. With the caution of a skilled huntress she paused and listened. The wind carried sounds, scents... steel on steel. There was a battle up ahead. She pressed on, keeping her pace slower and the sounds of her movements quieter. She came upon the battle, one man taking on five. More to the point, one man was doing an extraordinary job of evading and parrying the attacks of five men. He was showing signs of fatigue, but still he smirked at them slyly. He was athletically built with corded muscles and bronzed skin that marked him as possibly Argossian. His his hands were a pair of long, curved blades, similar to those used by pirates, seafarers, and some of the eastern cultures. "Gentleman," he said, smiling wide. "I applaud your effort, I do. But come on... we both know I'm not going back to Kordava-" "Alive," one of the men interjected and they all laughed. They were all dressed in Zingaran finery. Their blades were long and thin, with basket hilts designed to deflect and parry aside a barbarians broader blade or axe. Thy appeared to be working for a member of Zingaran nobility. "It's all a misunderstanding, surely not one worthy of an execution," he twirled his swords about, one of them ending backwards, so the blase ran back up the length of his arm. He was preparing to parry some more, the banter was simply to allow him to regain his breath. "How was I supposed to know they were Viscount Cabrera's daughters," he chuckled. "I certainly know I wouldn't crawl into bed with my siblings... so how the four of them ended up in my bed, I assure you, is a complete mystery to me." "And I suppose how they all lost their clothes and purity is all a mystery to you as well, hmm?" Another man snapped. They all held their weapons firmly, the leather of their gloves creaked as they tightened their grip. He man chuckled. "Now, that I actually do remember... I was that drunk. You see we were all well into our cups and Valentina begins doing this vulgar yet pleasant trick with her tongue-" The men all screamed in outrage and rushed the man again. Once more there was the loud clamor of steel on steel.
  16. Heroes of the Age

    Name: Freya of Vanaheim Gender& Age: Female, 21 Homeland: Vanaheim Caste: Barbaric Caste Talents: Savage Dignity, Uncivilized Story: Born on a Battlefield Trait: Born to Battle Archetype: Raider Nature: Wrathful Education: Against Your Parents Will War Story: Mentioned in A saga Languages: Nordheimer, Argosian AGILITY: 14 -Acrobatics – 0/0/14 -Melee – 5/5/19 -Stealth – 2/2/16 AWARENESS: 7 -Insight – 0/0/7/ -Observation - 0/0/7 -Survival – 1/1/8 -Thievery – 0/0/7 BRAWN: 10 -Athletics – 1/1/11 -Resistance – 2/2/12 COORDINATION: 10 -Parry – 3/3/13 -Ranged Weapons – 2/2/12 -Sailing – 2/2/12 INTELLIGENCE: 7 -Alchemy – 0/0/7 -Craft – 0/0/7 -Healing – 0/0/7 -Linguistics – 2/2/9 -Lore – 2/2/9 -Warfare – 1/1/8 PERSONALITY: 7 -Animal Handling – 0/0/7 -Command – 0/0/7 -Counsel – 0/0/7 -Persuade – 0/0/7 -Society – 0/0/7 WILLPOWER: 7 -Discipline – 3/3/10 -Sorcery – 0/0/7 TALENTS BLOODLINE: Nordheimer- whether from asgard or vanaheim, a nordheimer with this talent is descended from a race of humankind that devolved into snow-apedom after the cataclysm. The earliest true humans in the land, forefathers of the Hyborians, drove them northward past the Arctic Circle, where they once again became humans, eventually returning to the lands that would later be known as Nordheim. When a Nordheimer with an Ancient Bloodline fails a Personality test, they are prone to boastfulness and foolhardy overconfidence. MELEE: No Mercy - When making a Melee attack, you may re-roll a number of damage dice equal to the total number of Melee talents (and ranks in those talents) you have acquired, if desired. You must accept the results of the re-rolls. Deft Blade - You wield a blade as if it were an extension of your arm. Whenever you make a Melee attack, any Momentum spent or points added to Doom to add bonus d20s to the Melee test adds two dice instead of one, though the normal limit of three bonus d20s still applies. Adaptable Combatant - You can adjust your fighting style to suit a range of circum­stances. When making or defending against an attack, you may increase or decrease the Reach of your weapon by 1. A weapon’s Reach may not be reduced below 1. SAILING Sailor - You are an experienced sailor, accustomed to river, sea, or ocean. You may re-roll one d20 when making a Sailing test, but you must accept the new result. Attacks: -Brawl (M): - Broadsword: 2 reach, UB -1H, Damage 5, Parrying, Enc 1 - Knife: reach 1, 1H, Damage 3, Hidden1, Improvised, Unforgiving1 - Shield: reach 2, damage 2, 1H, Knockdown, Shield 2, Enc 2 -Threaten Soak: 3 -Armor – Mail Shirt (torso, noisy), Horned Helm (Head, Heavy) -Courage - 0 Stress/Harms: Vigor - 12 | Wounds - Resolve- 10 | Trauma - Fortune Points: 2 Social: -Social Standing - 1 -Renown - 0 -Gold - 7 - Upkeep -4 Other Belongings: Target Shield, Broadsword, Barbed Spear, Knife that belonged to My Cheiftian Background: Freya was born in the midst of a Raid on her village by a mixed band of Cimmerian and Aesir. In straight up barbarian legend building fashion her mother gave birth on the battlefield and Freya's fate was sealed. She grew up strong and fast, by her teens she was as tall as the tallest man and her feminine curves could not hide her Powerful build. Her skill at arms was a match for any and not wishing a life of a wife and homemaker she went against her parents wishes and Joined a Raider's crew when she was seventeen. With flowing red hair and piercing green eyes she rode the dragon prowed ship and proved herself in battle. She soon found herself named in a skalds song and spent many feasts at the Jarl's table. But for Freya it wasn't enough. She had seen the ships of the south landers seen their villages on the coast which they raided, had raided far south and seen the wonders of different peoples and heard tales of even more wondrous places and peoples. On her last voyage south, she elected not to return home. Leaving her plunder with her mates she set off with the clothes on her back and the sword at her side, ready for adventure.
  17. Heroes of the Age

    The personalities used by the posters are presented here in this thread. The various enemies and allies of those personalities are presented in "Dog Brothers and Sword Sisters". I'm very picky about formatting, so please, take a moment to make sure your sheet doesn't look like hammered ass spread across three miles of 'what the fuck' before you post it here. I reserve the right to edit sheets if they need some touching up.
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