You have received a letter addressed to you by name. The paper is thick and expensive, the writing in a clean and elegant hand, and the seal of the Standard Oil Company adorns the envelope.
| Dear Sir or Madam: You are likely wondering who I am, and how I came to send you this missive. I won't waste your time: my name is Rockefeller, and I need your help. I have an unusual problem that calls for the discreet application of an unusual skillset such as that you possess. Never mind how I know about your supernatural talents; suffice it to say that only someone conversant with the supernatural would be willing to seriously entertain the problems I shall henceforth detail for you. You will no doubt have heard of the many uses to which ancient mummies unearthed from primitive Egyptian tombs have been put- as medicine, as curiosities to be unwrapped at fancy English parties, as pigment for artists, even burned as fuel. One such ancient corpse unearthed in Ethiopia earlier this year was shipped back to America but later got up and left of its own accord. I repeat: a mummy is animate, and angry. This has never happened before, and will likely never happen again. The ancient king Assholetep (“az-sho-le-tep”, but the modern scatological pronunciation is also appropriate due to his many documented atrocities and extreme unpopularity during his own time period) has returned to a sort of half-life. What's worse, he has butchered the staff at one of my oil-drilling facilities in rural Nevada. I don't know what dark magic is at work here, but it's bad for business. Put Assholetep to the fire discreetly and I shall reward you richly. Desire you money? I have more than Croesus or even God. Or perhaps you are interested in some other form of reward? I could introduce you to kings and congressmen, or even get you on the guest list for the next Black Auction. A first-class train ticket to Whistlestop, Nevada is enclosed with this letter. If my agents do not receive you there before the week is out, I will assume you have turned down my offer of employment. Yours Truly on this day of May Eighteenth, Year of Our Lord Eighteen-Eighty John Davison Rockefeller Senior |
Pick one of the backgrounds below and fill in or alter biographical details as you please. Name, sex, ethnicity, etc are all left intentionally up to you- some backgrounds suggest certain such details but none absolutely require any.
You're an accomplished sort, and start at level 7 instead of level 5. You have at least one level in each of the three archetypes listed in your background, and can choose four more advanced abilities from any of the three archetypes you please. You start with 10 Dosh as a handsome down payment for your services.
| 1 | The Awakened | You were perfectly content to be a useless layabout, comfortable in your family's vast wealth until one day you got really, REALLY high and remembered a previous life lived millenia ago. You know now the secret ways of embalming a body to ensure its passage to the afterlife, and how to cheat the process and return a sort of life to the dead. Clearly something went wrong with Assholetep's embalming, and you're pretty sure it's your (previous incarnation's) fault. You were high at the time. Some things never change. Archetypes: Concoctionist, Doper, Necromancer. |
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| 2 | The Doomspeaker | The world is doomed in any of a thousand different forms, and you've been cursed with the ability to see them all before they happen. Avert one and another springs up to take its place; your work is never done and your face is never smiling. You've tried to warn them, those fools, but it turns out that wearing a signboard with “THE END IS NIGH” written on it isn't very effective. It's time to be more proactive about heading off catastrophe. Archetypes: Vigilant, Harbinger, Oracle. |
| 3 | The Earthmover | Over a decade ago you found steady work punching through the unforgiving Sierra Nevada mountains as part of the construction of the Transcontinental Railroad. Your skilled understanding of dynamite and natural ability to shout commands contributed to your quick rise to crew foreman, but in the end you were the only member of your team to survive the experience. Nobody believes that kobolds are real, much less that they caused the accident- but you know what you saw that night and you still have the magical digging iron they left behind. Archetypes: Burrower, Grenadier, Tactician. |
| 4 | The Firebrand | In ancient times the earth held the race of djinn, mighty beings neither good nor evil created of smokeless fire. One was magically bound to serve as guardian of Assholetep's tomb, but he got distracted by his love for a mortal and eventually passed from this world. That was your grandfather, and you carry a spark of his supernatural fire in your fleshy mortal body. You also carry a bit of his obligation now that his charge has gotten loose. Archetypes: Firebug, Archer, Wishmaster. |
| 5 | The Monarch | Norton I, Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico, died in your hometown of San Francisco in January. Most people didn't take him very seriously, but you did- maybe that's why he selected you as his successor and heir, and gave you all that he had to give. Rockefeller didn't ask you to come and isn't quite sure how you got your hands on one of his invitations, but that doesn't matter. As the rightful ruler of these lands, it's your responsibility to see threats to it driven out. Archetypes: Blade, Negotiator, Sovereign. |
| 6 | The Neo-Witch | You used to sell rare books, until one came into your hands that was definitely rarer than all the rest. Was it desperation or mere academic interest that led you to read that rough leather-bound grimoire? You learned such horrible, beautiful, useful things from it. Some say you're damned now, a dabbler in things man was not meant to know. They don't understand the truth, but you do- that the forces Assholetep wields will someday poison the earth and change the face of the world entirely. That's why you know more than anyone that he must be destroyed. Archetypes: Healer, Hex, Shotgunner. |
| 7 | The Phantom | You are the ghost of a 17th-century aristocrat. Since your death you've witnessed the collapse of many of the feudal systems you took for granted while alive and the birth of multiple new nations among what you still think of as “the New World”. It's all very interesting and exciting, which is why you absolutely refuse to do the decent thing and pass on. Boredom is the worst possible fate, and the afterlife sounds rather boring (if it even exists). This job offer, though? Not boring at all. Archetypes: Deathtouch, Spectre, Undead. |
| 8 | The Pinkerton | These are rowdy, lawless times and like many others with a talent for deduction and violence you've gained employment with the Pinkerton Private Detective Agency. Or at least, you did until you were bitten one night by what you (at the time) thought was a stray dog. Now you've been infected with lycanthropy and live outside the cities, fearful of what might come to pass should you stay. Archetypes: Gunslinger, Investigator, Shapeshifter. Special: When in wolf form, you lose access to your Gunslinger and Investigator archetypes but gain replacement abilities from the Lacerator and Ranger archetypes instead. |
| 9 | The Shapeless | You remember delving in a cave as a youth and coming into contact with a strange slimy substance, warm to the touch, that rapidly engulfed you before you even had a chance to scream. That was when you died, but also when you were born. Your memories are human, but your body is that of the slime that absorbed them wrapped around your (mostly) intact skeleton. You can change your face as much as you need to if you want to look different, but your appetite is as strong as it ever was. Archetypes: Charlatan, Devourer, Mordant. |
| 10 | The Slayer | You come from an ancient tradition of monster-hunters, a shield against the forces of chaos that most believe do not exist. Many unnatural demons and spirits are invulnerable to any weapon forged by man, so your order trains with their fists and feet instead (as these were crafted by Nature and/or the gods) coupled with a ritual transfusion of eldritch blood to let you transcend mortal limits of endurance. Punch your way across America and exorcise the foul presence in the West! Archetypes: Brawler, Helsing, Regenerator. |
| 11 | The Voice | On the frontier, social structures are looser and anybody can achieve a leadership position, even someone like you. That's what the people who disapprove of your mayorhood tell themselves, though the truth behind your success at politics is stranger still. Speak softly, and your words are nearly-supernaturally beguiling. Speak loudly, and they can shatter bones. This is because you've learned three of the one hundred and twenty-seven letters in the Divine Alphabet that was used to create the world. What could you do with more? You hunger greatly to find out, and Rockefeller's resources might be enough to take you there. Archetypes: Spewer, Thunderer, Trickster. |
| 12 | The Wielder | An enormous sword was made centuries ago by a smith across the sea somewhere. Too large to wield, it was hung on a wall as a decorative piece and a showcase of the smith's skill (a not uncommon practice across multiple different cultures). The time of swords is largely over now and it was passed between museums and private collections for a time before eventually vanishing, reappearing in your hands. You're nowhere near muscular enough to hold the thing (who even is, anyway?) and yet you do, almost effortlessly. This is because you're the awakened spirit of the blade itself, and it is your true body. Archetypes: Dragonslayer, Scholar, Spirit. |
You can play more than once if you want, and even freely use all the metagame knowledge you learned during your last attempt. The reason why you can do this is just one of several different mysteries that you can solve with enough investigation.
Assholetep Bestiary- spoilers!