The Saccharine Touch

Class: Berserker







Skills: fasting, stargazing, plying the worm-writhen blade

Gear: damascened sword, shield, purple-hemmed robes


A: The Saccharine Touch, Inner Torsion

B: Fateless, Heart-Prison

C: Die


The Saccharine Touch: Your soul coils upon a promise made; when your body dies in battle with sword in hand, you shall spring free in a shower of dusty plasma. [templates in berserker] in 2 odds that you reach the heavens, and fall back to earth 2d6 days later encased in a fresh-forged vessel.

Inner Torsion: You may make any roll with advantage, but suffer damage equal to the lower die if you choose to do so.

FatelessYour next template must be template C of this class.

Heart-PrisonYou are plasmolized, wound so tight that you hardly touch the walls of your self. Nothing pains you; your body is a blade of senseless metal. Nothing vexes you; your mind is but hilt and pommel. Nothing tires you; scabbards are for swords with a future. Where you are headed you'll find better.

Die: In the quiet hours your body at last sunders, untimely. The sword falls from your sea-still hands and your soul implodes.





Vessel: Star-thing



Vessels have 0-templates, after which conventional class templates can be gained in the usual order

0: Baetyl, Avatar

𝚫: David's Sling

Baetyl: Your body is one tonne of arcing chalcedony poured into a marble's mould. Pick it up and you feel barely heavier than you appear, with all that implies — you can carry yourself for an hour at a time before you grow tired, and throw yourself (this grows tiresome in minutes) for 1d12 damage ignoring armour. When your grip slips your body crushes tiles, splinters wood, bores through the earth as it sinks to bedrock.

Avatar: You sense and are seen as what you once were, your actions perceived by whichever most explicable illusion. Figmentary wounds born of these sensoria can't kill but are vivid beyond description or reality. They burden the mind, and at 0 HP you grow numb and self-consumed and drop yourself for 1d6 days.

David's Sling: After basking in the sun for a week, or when struck by a fulminant sky, you may launch yourself an arbitrary distance. Roll 1d20. On a roll of 20 you land exactly where you wanted to, otherwise randomly within a radius equal to 1/10th the distance to the target.

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