- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
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The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
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College Slice
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What with two cool Choice of Games LPs going on right now, I was inspired to run a different game from the site. Since goons seem to be compelled to try for necromancy every time Life of a Wizard comes up, I figured a game where necromancy is the entire point would work pretty well.
Well, okay, it's not quite as good as some of Choice of Games's best works, but it's no Heroes Rise either. It's fairly short, pretty cheap, and tries for humor, which is better than certain other Choice of Games stories that think they're super serious. So, let's begin.
(Or, if you want to start at the second run, go here.)
(Or jump here to join Gutskutter Walpurge in tearing this game apart, in the final run.)
quote:
The street is thick with mangled cars and billowing smoke. All around, the cries of the dying form brief, unsettling harmonies with the moans of the shambling dead.
A red double-decker bus tilts over you at an alarming angle, tyres punctured, emergency exit door hanging open. Its driver lies slumped across the steering wheel, sightless eyes staring ahead to a junction he will never reach. The limbs of luckless passengers trail from broken windows.
A water main has ruptured. Its flow is tainted with blood; dark swirls in a new river head for the oblivion of black drains. Soon those drains will fill beyond capacity and the street will begin to flood with the remnants of dead.
You should run. The dead are here, all around you, their faces tinged a sickly blue. They seem lost, without direction. Yet others are approaching with an odd, red cast to their features. Their rage is concentrated on you.
Run!
See if anybody else needs help.
Use a wounded person to distract the attackers.
Try to find a tactical advantage.
Check nearby cars for a weapon.
Stats posted:
A successful necromancer must manage an array of vital character statistics.
Control: 1%
Energy: 1%
Luck: 1%
Corruption: 0%
Humanity: 0%
You are as anonymous as a necromancer could hope to be.
A quick note on stats: they work kinda weird compared to other Choice of Games titles. With the exceptions of Corruption and Humanity, they are very fluid, and taking certain choices could take you from an excellent Control stat to failing a Control check in just a few screens. It's not so important at the beginning, but it's something to keep in mind later.
Oblivion4568238 fucked around with this message at 00:56 on Feb 16, 2015
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Sep 10, 2014 00:35
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ADBOT LOVES YOU
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Apr 27, 2024 21:15
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
Going to sleep now, let's just take that action and see what turns up later.
quote:
You stare down at the little grid of city blocks and the brightly-coloured plastic figures spread across it. It doesn't matter how much you use your imagination. Zombie Wars, the boardgame, sucks. Everything you want to do means rolling at least fifteen dice and adding them all up, and most of the time, the number you get means FAIL.
Robbie, however, is bobbing in his seat across the table. He thinks he is winning and also he has drunk too much cola. He stares at a handful of creased cards and bites his lip. He is a total dork but he is also your only actual friend at school.
Your blue zombies are scattered all over the street. Robbie's red zombies are pouring out from behind a wrecked bus. It's your move. What will you do?
Try to topple the bus onto the red zombies.
Overwhelm the lead zombies with sheer numbers.
Form a pincer movement around either side of the bus.
Whatever.
Stats posted:
A successful necromancer must manage an array of vital character statistics.
Control: 1%
Energy: 1%
Luck: 1%
Corruption: 1% (+1)
Humanity: 0%
You are as anonymous as a necromancer could hope to be.
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Sep 10, 2014 07:44
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
who gives a poo poo
why am I reading this thread
why are you even playing this game
I dunno what you're doing here pal, but I'm playing this pretty much solely for the hell of it.
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Sep 10, 2014 17:56
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
Clearly enough votes for the one option.
quote:
You move the blue pieces around in random ways and hopefully leave them vulnerable. The sooner Robbie kills them all, the sooner you can get on with something more interesting.
Robbie moves to play a card, then snatches it back. Then he chooses another one but pulls it back at the last instant. He goes back to the original card. "Hmmm," he says.
This game seems to have been going on for a long time. You look out the window while you wait for Robbie to take his turn. He shuffles a couple of zombies around with no discernable plan.
Which card will you play now?
Spleen Strike.
Zombie Clothesline.
Dialogue of the Dead.
Stats posted:
A successful necromancer must manage an array of vital character statistics.
Control: 6% (+5)
Energy: 11% (+10)
Luck: 26% (+25)
Corruption: 1%
Humanity: 0%
You are as anonymous as a necromancer could hope to be.
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Sep 10, 2014 19:08
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
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The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
And there's the tiebreaker!
quote:
Robbie frowns as you play this card. "We're supposed to play a whole minigame now where the zombies moan at each other," he says. "Actually, I meant to take that card out because it looks kind of boring."
You agree to skip it and take a +1 to your next attack instead. Robbie looks relieved.
Robbie checks a few rules and then sacrifices one piece by having the others tear it apart. This gives him a huge bonus.
A second wave of his zombies approaches from the other direction. You are surrounded. What will you do?
Split your forces and fight on two fronts.
Attempt to eliminate Robbie's original zombies before the new wave arrives.
Try to form an acrobatic pyramid out of your zombies and thus win on style points alone.
Rage quit.
Stats posted:
A successful necromancer must manage an array of vital character statistics.
Control: 11% (+5)
Energy: 16% (+5)
Luck: 51% (+25)
Corruption: 1%
Humanity: 0%
You are as anonymous as a necromancer could hope to be.
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Sep 11, 2014 22:54
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
You recall Robbie talking about some optional rules for winning conditions and reach for the rulebook. "What do you need that for?" he hisses. You maintain an enigmatic front as you consult the table for acrobatic stunts.
The pyramid requires you to roll over twenty-five but below thirty-two on ten dice. You go for it. It takes two turns but you manage to get fourteen out of fifteen zombies into your pyramid. However, during this period, Robbie commandeers an ice-cream van. His zombie drives it very slowly through your base layer and collapses the pyramid. You score zero style points.
You have lost this game of Zombie Wars.
quote:
Robbie does an embarrassing victory dance which involves a double fist pump and some rolling of hips. You stare at him until he stops.
"Let's play one more game before you leave," he says, turning to his shelves. "I've got a new one called Corridor Clangers. I haven't really read the rules though."
You need to get out of here right now. What approach will you take?
Admit you've had enough gaming for the afternoon.
Claim your dinner is earlier than usual today.
Attempt to suggest that Robbie's victory dance has hurt your feelings.
Stats posted:
A successful necromancer must manage an array of vital character statistics.
Control: 36% (+25)
Energy: 26% (+10)
Luck: 61% (+10)
Corruption: 1%
Humanity: 0%
You are as anonymous as a necromancer could hope to be.
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Sep 12, 2014 02:53
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
You make a point of not responding to his conversation and put on your jacket with a series of sullen jerks. Robbie sticks out his bottom lip.
You leave Robbie's house and tramp away down the street. These occasional nerd sessions are the price of his friendship. It's not so bad though. Your last best friend used to wait until you'd left your bedroom and then he'd draw a penis inside one of your favourite books.
There just aren't that many fun people in a small town like…what's your town called?
Bradford.
Paisley.
Sunderland.
Stoke-on-Trent.
Dundee.
Basingstoke.
Something else.
Stats posted:
A successful necromancer must manage an array of vital character statistics.
Control: 51% (+15)
Energy: 26%
Luck: 61%
Corruption: 1%
Humanity: 0%
You are as anonymous as a necromancer could hope to be.
The very next dialogue is choosing whether our character is a boy or a girl, so it will be included in this update.
quote:
Right. And are you a boy or a girl?
A boy.
A girl.
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Sep 13, 2014 05:57
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
There was a clear lead for being a girl, but a tie for our town being Basingstoke or Stoke-on-Trent. Since that's more of a cosmetic choice, I've taken the liberty of making a compromise.
quote:
There just aren't that many fun people in a small town like Basingstoke-on-Trent.
The walk home from Robbie's house is kind of scary, especially when it's getting dark. He lives near The Base. The fence is three times your height, and razor wire runs along the top. You have to walk past a long stretch to get back to the town centre. There are trees in the way but occasionally you catch a glimpse of a low building. Yellow light gleams in the windows. It seems to get brighter, then dimmer.
Your father said it was an army base where they send soldiers to train. But you're not so sure. When the wind blows in just the right direction, you can hear some strange noises coming out of there.
quote:
You shiver as you leave The Base behind and make it to the town centre. It's quite dark now. The shops are closed and the streets are empty. Noise blares from the pub and the kebab shop. It stops you hearing the tell-tale voices ahead until it's almost too late. The Kendall kids come around the corner.
Denzil, Mikey and Sean don't pick on you, in particular. They pick on nearly everybody. When you were eight, they stole your shoe and pushed it down the drain. When you were ten, they threw you into the canal. At twelve, you stood up to them like it says in the books and they cut off your ponytail with a knife.
You don't think they've seen you yet. But they definitely will, within seconds.
Walk boldly past them.
Sprint down a side street.
Hide down the back of the chemist.
No change in stats.
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Sep 14, 2014 07:21
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
There's no point in enduring that long moment of dread where they decide whether or not to beat you up. You tear across the road in front of the Kendall kids and run for it, using all the energy you've stored up by sitting down for the entire afternoon eating snacks and playing board games.
You get a good head start but the Kendall kids thunder after you. One of them giggles. "Run, piggy, run!" Your foot snags on something and you go down hard. Before you can get up, three long, black shadows fall across you.
quote:
Mikey drags you over to the wall and presses you up against it. His face presses close to yours and his breath stinks. "I thought we told you the last time. This is our territory and you can't come here without paying the toll. Denzil, check her."
You struggle as Denzil searches your pockets for money. You try to kick him but Mikey blocks the movement easily. "Can't find nothing," Denzil says.
"Tsk tsk," Mikey says. "Guess it's into the bin with you." He drags you over to a large green collection bin. Black plastic bags of rubbish are piled inside, amid six months of sludge.
"Just a minute." Sean grins. He slips out a knife. Your heart jumps but he reaches into the bin and slices open all the bags he can reach. Rotten food spills out of the holes, its stench filling your nose. Then Denzil grabs your legs and they chuck you into the bin. The lid clangs down and you are left alone in the dark, slipping on filth, as their laughter recedes.
It takes you a long time to get the lid open.
quote:
You reach the end of your street and head home. All you want to do is kick off your shoes and relax for the evening. At the door, you sniff for the first delicious hint of what your dinner will be tonight. Unfortuantely, all you can smell is the lingering stink of the bin they dumped you in.
Your father is sitting in front of the TV with a beer, watching a football game. His feet are up on a stool. He scratches himself. Your mother has the laptop open on the dining table. She is playing one of the internet bingo games they advertise during inferior soap operas.
By the way, what's your name?
Cheryl.
Nicola.
Sarah.
Kimberley.
Nadine.
Something else.
Stats posted:
A successful necromancer must manage an array of vital character statistics.
Control: 51%
Energy: 26%
Luck: 55% (-6)
Corruption: 1%
Humanity: 0%
You are as anonymous as a necromancer could hope to be.
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Sep 15, 2014 05:41
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
Your father yells without taking his eyes off the football. "Is that you, Bastienne? Come here. I need you to go out for fish suppers."
You look more closely at the football game. A team with green shirts are playing a team with black and white stripes. It is a game from last year. You recognise it because he has watched it three times already.
You point out that you have been out all day and that you badly need a shower.
"Still got your shoes on then," he says, and waves a twenty pound note in your direction.
Go and get the fish suppers.
Tell him to get them himself.
Try to get your mother to take your side.
Reposting stats for new page
Stats posted:
A successful necromancer must manage an array of vital character statistics.
Control: 51%
Energy: 26%
Luck: 55%
Corruption: 1%
Humanity: 0%
You are as anonymous as a necromancer could hope to be.
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#
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Sep 15, 2014 20:19
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
This isn't the first time the fish supper conversation has happened. Your father is ruthless when he makes up his mind. The last time, he logged onto his online banking and slowly reduced your weekly allowance until you agreed to go. Better to just succumb to the inevitable—and pocket the change.
quote:
You trudge along the gloomy road to the fish and chip shop. On the way, you pass the hairdressers, an establishment called "Cut and Colour". On their sign, a little rainbow with the wrong colours comes arcing out of the word "Colour".
You automatically touch your head, checking your hair is still there. Last time they cut it far too short. The time before that, the woman was talking to her friend and she made a thin patch at the back. The time before that, you explained what you wanted and they laughed at you.
The chip shop is busy. There are two guys working: a fat one and one with a moustache. You have to wait in the queue for nearly ten minutes, staring at the battered black puddings which have been in the fryer too long, and listening to the slow-moving staff making racist jokes.
Just as you are about to get served, a skinny woman with a bright, fake tan and too much makeup on breezes in. She wears a padded, sleeveless jacket with furry armholes. The fat guy behind the counter stands up straight. "Hello, Al," she purrs.
"What can I get you?" he stammers.
Point out that there is a queue.
Keep quiet.
Squirt tomato ketchup down the back of her jacket.
Stats posted:
A successful necromancer must manage an array of vital character statistics.
Control: 51%
Energy: 33% (+7)
Luck: 55%
Corruption: 1%
Humanity: 0%
You are as anonymous as a necromancer could hope to be.
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Sep 16, 2014 07:10
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
One of the few redeeming features of this particular fish and chip shop is that they provide unlimited tomato ketchup in a small, squeezable bottle shaped like a tomato. While Al is bewitched by this deep-fry hussy, you surreptitiously obtain the plastic tomato, aim, and squeeze.
A rich stream of ketchup paints the back of her body warmer. It looks like she has been stabbed between the shoulderblades. She is too busy smirking to notice.
As she struts from the shop clutching her bag of battered meats, she leaves a trail of red drips across the floor. You see Al's jaw drop. But nobody in the queue talks.
quote:
Finally, you reach the head of the queue and order three fish suppers. Al shovels out chips which look distinctly undercooked and you point this out.
"Well, if you want to wait a bit longer, join the back of the queue," he grunts. Then he overcharges you for a can of cola.
You're tempted to storm out of the shop. But your father will only send you back and then you'll have to endure this all over again. You accept three hot packets of fish and chips in a thin bag. On the side is written: HAPPY TO SERVE YOU—COME AGAIN!
You move fast with the bag of hot fish suppers. If you can just get home without any more incidents, you can finally relax for the night.
quote:
The quickest route is through the square in front of the pub. Sometimes people shout at you there but they never actually follow you. You're just rounding the corner when you hear a familiar voice. "Come on then, soldier boy!" It's the Kendall kids again. On instinct, you duck into a bush. The branches scratch at your clothes as you peer out to see what's happening.
It's exactly what it sounds like. The Kendall kids are taunting an off-duty soldier outside the pub. A lot of men from The Base drink in there. The soldier laughs it off until Denzil comes up behind him and cracks a plank over his head. Then the three boys swarm him.
The soldier easily takes on two of them at once, locking Denzil's arm and using the younger boy as a shield against Mikey. His foot lashes out, cracking against Mikey's knee. Mikey wails and drops to the ground like an action figure with its leg twisted the wrong way. But Sean steps up behind the soldier, silent as usual. He slips his hand into his jacket and comes out with a thin, gleaming blade.
Yell to warn the soldier.
Throw something at Sean.
Stay hidden until the Kendall kids leave the area.
Stats posted:
A successful necromancer must manage an array of vital character statistics.
Control: 55% (+4)
Energy: 33%
Luck: 55%
Corruption: 1%
Humanity: 0%
You are as anonymous as a necromancer could hope to be.
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Sep 17, 2014 00:14
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
You jump out from the bush and shout, "Behind you!" The soldier's head turns to look at you. A moment of distraction is all it takes. Sean plunges the knife into the small of the soldier's back and twists it. The soldier stiffens in pain and turns, using Denzil's body to knock Sean away. Both brothers fall to the ground.
A river of blood flows from the knife wound, staining the soldier's trousers a dark crimson. He turns to look at you, trying to speak. Blood spills over his bottom lip. Then he crashes to the ground.
quote:
The soldier flails on the ground for a moment, then his body slackens and he goes silent. The Kendall kids get to their feet. Sean retrieves his knife. Dark, gleaming blood drips from its blade.
Mikey pokes the soldier's head. "He's dead, man! You killed him!" Denzil's mouth hangs open.
Sean crouches down and gazes into the soldier's eyes. Then he gets up and looks methodically around the square. There's nobody else around. His eyes stop on you. "You again," he says. A couple of strides bring him close. "If you ever…say…anything…" He lifts the knife. "I'll do the same to you. That's a promise."
"Come on, lads," he says in a low voice. "We were never here." They scuttle into the darkness, leaving you alone with the corpse.
quote:
The soldier's head is turned towards you. The eyes are wide open, unblinking. You can't help but look into them. Something has left. Although you've never seen a dead body before, you're sure this man is dead.
You either need to call the police or you need to get out of here right now. Did anybody see you? Did you drop anything? You fumble to find your phone. As you glance away, a strange, yellow glow illuminates the kerb. What was—
The soldier's left leg is moving. It lifts and lowers, bumping on the ground. After a moment, the right one joins in. His torso twists and his fingers splay. His body rises from the ground in an impossible arc. The entire time, his head remains turned to the side, pointing in your direction. The eyes are dull and glassy.
The dead soldier turns and moves off, reeling from one side of the road to the other. He is heading in the direction of The Base.
quote:
You had better move. Either something very creepy has just happened or living here has finally snapped your mind. You turn and your foot clatters against something on the ground.
It's…a bone. It looks about twelve inches long, rounded at one end, flat and V-shaped at the other. A section of its length has been exposed, the marrow removed, and a clear tube of luminous liquid has somehow been inserted. The yellow-green fluid slides around inside. It reminds you of a spirit level your father showed you when you were small.
The liquid changes colour almost imperceptibly as it pulsates. It shifts between a murky yellow and a pale green. Nevertheless, something makes you want to pick it up.
When you look up, the dead soldier has disappeared from view.
Take the bone with you.
Leave it behind.
Take it into the pub and ask an adult what to do.
Kick it down a drain.
Stats posted:
A successful necromancer must manage an array of vital character statistics.
Control: 57% (+2)
Energy: 33%
Luck: 53% (-2)
Corruption: 1%
Humanity: 2% (+2)
Your activities have attracted some attention.
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Sep 17, 2014 23:57
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
The bone feels dry and cold against your fingers. You glance around the square. It looks like nobody is watching. You shove it into a deep pocket and head for home.
You turn it over in your mind as you walk: You just saw somebody die. Never mind what happened afterwards. You're trembling by the time you reach your street and it's a relief to close the house door behind you.
Your father is now watching another old football game: an orange team versus a blue team. He takes his fish supper without looking at you and snaps his fingers. "Change," he says. You give him the remaining money with shaky hands.
Your mother smiles absently as you hand over the fish supper. She has moved on from bingo to browsing online bead craft supply stores. You stand there for a few moments, staring at them, waiting for them to notice you, to ask what's wrong.
After five minutes, you dump your fish supper in the kitchen and go upstairs.
quote:
You fire up the computer and start searching for pictures of bones. You identify it quickly. It's the humerus, the top part of an arm. A human arm. This is not a comforting thought.
The adrenaline from earlier is wearing off. You're becoming very tired.
What will you do with this glowing humerus?
Smash the interior tube to get the liquid out.
Throw it out the window.
Put it somewhere safe until the morning.
No change in stats.
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Sep 18, 2014 06:57
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
You line the tube up on the edge of your windowsill and bang it with your fist. It makes a dull clunk. You use your alarm clock as an impromptu hammer and thump it harder. Nothing. On the third attempt, you take a chunk of wood out of your windowsill.
Whatever this tube is made of, it's not glass.
What now?
Throw it out the window.
Put it somewhere safe until the morning.
Stats posted:
A successful necromancer must manage an array of vital character statistics.
Control: 57%
Energy: 36% (+3)
Luck: 53%
Corruption: 1%
Humanity: 2%
Your activities have attracted some attention.
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#
¿
Sep 19, 2014 01:41
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
This is a genuine occult artifact. The best place for it is your sock drawer. You put it carefully inside and close the drawer. When you slip into bed and turn out the light, you can see its gentle glow from the edges of the drawer. It feels oddly soothing.
quote:
You lurch, disoriented. It's dark outside. Were you sleeping? Did you just hear something? What time is it? You turn to look at your alarm clock.
The bone is back on your bedside table, its sickly pulse much faster now. It was definitely not there when you closed your eyes. You stare at it. How is this even possible?
You hear a distinct, loud THUMP from your parents' bedroom.
quote:
You creep through the dark hallway, feeling your way along the banister. Your thigh bumps something cold. It's only the fire extinguisher. From inside your parents' bedroom you hear somebody—no, two people—moaning and bumping around.
This would be a definite signal to go back to bed and put in the earplugs except for one thing: the bedroom door hangs open, off its hinges. It has been cracked across the middle.
Peer around the door.
Grab something heavy and go in swinging.
Return to your room, make the bed, and hide underneath it.
Try to slip past the door and go for help.
"Stats posted:
A successful necromancer must manage an array of vital character statistics.
Control: 59%
Energy: 36%
Luck: 53%
Corruption: 1%
Humanity: 2%
Your activities have attracted some attention.
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#
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Sep 19, 2014 02:50
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
Your breath sounds very loud as you slink up to the doorway. Keeping your head as low as you can, you peer around the frame.
Your father is still in bed, still wearing his red-striped pyjamas. However, his head is missing. A thin man in a dark formal suit is holding it upside down, chewing on the stringy tendons of the neck. He looks round at you. Streaks of pale makeup cross his face, partly covering its green-tinged flesh. His tie may have originally been black; it is currently swamped by a flood of glistening gore.
Your mother seems to be on the floor behind the bed. All that is visible of her is a trailing, pallid arm and her bloodied ankles protruding over the top of the mattress. A young woman in a black frock straddles her, gorging on what appears to be a large handful of dark spaghetti. On one side of this woman's face, raggedy hair dangles over a sunken eye. On the other, the scalp has parted to show bone. She clambers onto the bed.
The man lumbers towards you. You stumble backwards and fall.
quote:
By the time you find your feet, the two intruders have blocked the landing. You scramble back to your bedroom and slam the door in their decomposing faces.
THUD. THUD THUD. They begin to pound the door. You can already see it straining in the frame. As you look around, your eyes are drawn by the strange bone on your bedside table. Its light is now flickering fast.
Pick up the bone to use as a weapon.
Use the bedside lamp instead.
Try to get out of the window.
Hide under the bed.
Stats posted:
A successful necromancer must manage an array of vital character statistics.
Control: 63% (+4)
Energy: 36%
Luck: 53%
Corruption: 1%
Humanity: 2%
Your activities have attracted some attention.
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#
¿
Sep 20, 2014 04:57
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
The door crashes in. You seize the weird artifact and turn, ready to club at the intruders' heads. As you lift it, the liquid inside gleams. Abruptly, you are swept by a deep sense of peace.
It is totally inappropriate. But the advancing figures have stopped in their tracks.
You hold out the glowing humerus in front of the intruder. He holds his position, neither coming closer nor backing away. The eerie light casts ugly shadows across his pock-marked face.
The stink of the grave. Grimy clothes. Decaying skin. A twisted poise and what seems suspiciously like a hunger for human flesh. A hundred films, graphic novels, TV series, and motivational smartphone apps for runners have briefed you for this moment. This guy is a zombie.
You experiment by waving the humerus from left to right in a slow, even arc. The zombie leans a little to follow its progress. Does it control him?
Try to turn him around.
Try to back him off.
Try to make him sit down.
Lower the bone for a moment to see what happens.
Stats posted:
A successful necromancer must manage an array of vital character statistics.
Control: 64% (+1)
Energy: 36%
Luck: 53%
Corruption: 1%
Humanity: 2%
Your activities have attracted some attention.
|
|
#
¿
Sep 20, 2014 17:54
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
Your heart pounds as you risk lowering your defences. Nothing happens. You raise the bone again and gesture to the other side of the room. He shuffles in that direction.
The reaction seems too complicated, too accurate for such a simple gesture. You look at the man and, without moving the bone at all, you imagine him raising his arm.
He raises it.
OK, so here is the situation. You are an orphan who—
Your musing is interrupted by a THUMP from downstairs.
quote:
The military? Can they have tracked the bone to your house? But that didn't sound like the front door.
You pad down the stairs. The noise is coming from the kitchen. Something is moving in there. Since the weird humerus also doubles as a night light, you shine its greenish glow into the room.
As you watch, the slats which cover the cellar entrance lift one by one and topple aside. A hand rises from the gap—a hand with no flesh. A skull crashes through the remaining slats, surveying the room through empty sockets. Bony arms pull an entire animated skeleton into the room. It turns to look at you, jaw hanging open in a cheerful grin. It raises one fleshless arm—and waves.
You resist the urge to wave back and try to control its arm with the bone. It moves!
A second skeleton climbs out of the cellar entrance. Wait, there were two bodies down there all this time?
quote:
OK, recap. You are an orphan who possesses a strange military occult artifact created from the upper arm of a presumably-deceased person. Through it, you have obtained the power to command the dead.
You spend the following hours sitting in the kitchen, staring at your cold, untouched bag of fish and chips. Greasy fat has built up around its base. The glass of the back door is broken, and small pieces of zombie are still impaled on the shards.
Every now and then, you lean back on the stool to look into the living room. The undead are standing there, inactive. The skeletons hang loose, relaxed, as if warming up for an exercise class. It is not clear what keeps their bones upright and together. The zombies sway, heads tilted back as if gargling a fine wine. They appear to be examining the ceiling.
The immediate problem is your dead parents upstairs. No doubt you will have a tearful moment about their demise at some point, but there is no sign of that moment yet. And, frankly, they weren't contributing to society in any obvious way. In the meantime, there's the question of decomposition and flies and maggots and all that stuff. Plus, the bone seems to bring things back to life. The last thing you want is your headless father stumbling around your bedroom at night, leaving intestine all over everything.
Phone the police and ask for help.
Bury them in the cellar.
Drive out of town and bury them somewhere remote.
Allow zombie nature to take its course.
Stats posted:
A successful necromancer must manage an array of vital character statistics.
Control: 64%
Energy: 36%
Luck: 53%
Corruption: 1%
Humanity: 2%
Your activities have attracted some attention.
Your undead army consists of:
Skeletons: 2
Zombies: 2
and it has killed 2 people in total.
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#
¿
Sep 21, 2014 06:18
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
Might as well inform you, zombie nature taking its course is not letting our parents come back from the dead, it's... rather different. Rather messier. Besides, they were a bit too torn apart to be effective minions, wouldn't you say? Change votes as you feel necessary.
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#
¿
Sep 21, 2014 18:50
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
Crime stories are full of people who think they can get away with burying bodies in remote places, only to have them dug up by friendly dogs and used in evidence during murder trials. Under the house is safer.
You spend an unsettling few hours wrapping your parents in bin bags and dragging them down the stairs. The cellar is damp, full of spiderwebs, and you can't stand up straight. But the earth is soft and you dig a big enough hole for both bodies.
As you reach for the first bag, it begins to wriggle.
Oh great.
Bury it anyway.
Try to use the bone to suppress its movement.
Hit it with your shovel.
No change in stats.
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#
¿
Sep 22, 2014 04:26
|
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
You batter the crawling bag with all of your energy. It flails around like a giant black worm. Eventually, something seems to burst inside and the bag lies still. You go on to bury it, but you feel distinctly queasy afterward.
quote:
That's it. Your parents' bodies have been safely disposed of. You are going to have to grow up quickly and start a new life. Whatever that might be.
You stare at the undead for a bit. There are little pieces of zombie soaking into the carpet. The skeletons are fiddling with the mantelpiece. They're like pets. You're going to have to take them outside sometimes to stop them getting cranky. Maybe you should start with a walk around the block.
Stride down the street with an obvious undead bodyguard.
Go cautiously, with the undead disguised.
Keep them inside until you have a reason to take them out.
Stats posted:
A successful necromancer must manage an array of vital character statistics.
Control: 64%
Energy: 39% (+3)
Luck: 53%
Corruption: 2% (+1)
Humanity: 2%
Your activities have attracted some attention.
Your undead army consists of:
Skeletons: 2
Zombies: 2
and it has killed 2 people in total.
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|
#
¿
Sep 22, 2014 08:35
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
You go through your parents' wardrobe. There are a few coats and hats which ought to do the job, plus a couple of 'personal' items in a box that you did not need to see.
You dress up your minions. Getting trousers on them is the hardest thing; you experiment with having them lie down, or laying the legholes open and having them step inside. You tire quickly with the amount of concentration it takes to make them move. You're going to have to be careful not to overdo things.
When you go outside, however, the effort pays off. Three different people glance at you and carry on without remark. This is Basingstoke-on-Trent, after all. Your undead don't look all that different from the guys who drink white cider under the bridge.
You return home, feeling like you learned something. There are mini pizzas in the freezer. Tomorrow, you'll get more ambitious.
quote:
It's a new day.
Like it or not, you have command of a small force of undead. They live in your house. You can either get all mopey about it or you can do something positive.
What could be more positive than seeking revenge against the people who treated you badly in the past? You don't have to kill them or anything. Unless you want to…
What will you do?
Visit the graveyard to recruit more undead.
Take undead to the fish and chip shop.
Take undead to the hairdressers.
Stats posted:
A successful necromancer must manage an array of vital character statistics.
Control: 67% (+3)
Energy: 42% (+3)
Luck: 57% (+4)
Corruption: 2%
Humanity: 2%
Your activities have attracted some attention.
Your undead army consists of:
Skeletons: 2
Zombies: 2
and it has killed 2 people in total.
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#
¿
Sep 22, 2014 18:11
|
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
We've got a tie, so I've flipped a coin through random.org, wherein Heads is recruiting at the graveyard, and Tails is taking vengeance on the hairdressers.
Graverobbing it is.
quote:
Alone, you weave your way out of town to the graveyard. It's a lonely, windy spot crammed between the ruins of the church and a potato field. The gates are patchy with rust. They open with a squeal which seems to touch all the frequencies painful to human hearing.
Near the front, the stones are old, grey; crooked like bad teeth. Moss chokes the inscriptions and many of them have been worn smooth by years of cold rain.
Further back are signs of more recent use. Some marble stones gleam among the granite, gold still visible on their inscriptions.
quote:
You shiver as you walk among the headstones. It's one thing controlling a shambling figure of wasting flesh or a clackety, hyperactive collection of bones. But these are still people, lying deep in the earth, some for a very long time. Do you really want to interrupt their eternal rest to boost your horde?
Recruit in the older section of the graveyard.
Recruit in the newer section of the graveyard.
Take your time and look at the stones.
No change in stats.
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#
¿
Sep 23, 2014 22:54
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|
- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
You haven't been up here in a long time. The older section is full of crumbling stones and faded names: Alberts and Archibalds, Marjories and Maudes. From time to time, you see a mossy angel, or even a skull and crossbones—although you doubt it means a pirate is buried here.
Something about the names gets to you, the family relationships. You trace your fingers across the rough top of a granite grave marker. Perhaps you don't need more undead minions that badly.
Recruit in the older section of the graveyard.
Recruit in the newer section of the graveyard.
Leave flowers instead.
Joke's on you, looking at the graves is just to nearly grow a conscience. Nearly, but not quite; no change in stats.
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#
¿
Sep 24, 2014 19:31
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|
- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
You stand among the old stones and take out the humerus. Its weak pulse is difficult to see in daylight; it manifests as a sickly tint on your skin. If it's responding to the presence of bodies in the ground, they must be buried deep—or perhaps they have decayed beyond the point where they can be animated. Who knows? They don't teach this stuff in school.
Attempt to pull undead from the ground with an active force of will.
Try to free your mind and contact the dead.
Move to the newer section instead.
Showing stats for the sake of possibly failing a skill roll here.
Primary Stats posted:
Control: 67%
Energy: 42%
Luck: 57%
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#
¿
Sep 25, 2014 04:32
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|
- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
You plant both feet square on the earth and adopt a dramatic and hopefully solid stance. You close your eyes.
The bone channels your will. You send a command deep into the ground, calling the long-time dead. Come. Now is your time. Arise and serve me. It's old-fashioned, hokey stuff, but then, there's not a single tombstone in this area more recent than the 1930s.
quote:
In front of you, the earth cracks and parts, as the dead rise again at your command.
Bones slide from the broken ground, twisting and reassembling into three new skeleton warriors. Grave dirt drains from their cavities as they ready themselves for action.
A wave of fatigue pours over you. Calling the dead requires serious concentration. You head for home with weary steps, your obedient, new undead trailing behind.
quote:
It's a new day.
You need to do laundry. The undead peer at you as you load the washing machine. A zombie watches the drum spin, following the motion with its head. It goes round and round…and round…
It occurs to you that school is in session. You don't have to go, of course. If the truant officer comes to your door, he is going to get a nasty surprise. But you might decide to go all the same. Who knows what might happen?
What will you do?
Return to the graveyard for another try.
Take undead to the fish and chip shop.
Take undead to the hairdressers.
Go to school.
Stats posted:
A successful necromancer must manage an array of vital character statistics.
Control: 68% (+1)
Energy: 42%
Luck: 57%
Corruption: 3% (+1)
Humanity: 2%
Your activities have attracted some attention.
Your undead army consists of:
Skeletons: 5 (+3)
Zombies: 2
and it has killed 2 people in total.
|
|
#
¿
Sep 25, 2014 18:45
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
Could you clarify, do we take the undead to school with us? If so then that is my vote, else Hairdresser
You have a choice in the matter, and why wouldn't anybody choose that, so I'm going to take this as another school vote.
quote:
School. Long days in hot rooms with dazzling sunlight, large windows and no blinds; rammed together with a bunch of no-hope thickers whose finest moments in life will be the torments they inflict on the smarter kids here.
This year there will be the additional pressures of exams and career choices—or will there? This term is different from every one that went before because you have a posse. It might look a bit rough and smell of rancid flesh but it's a posse all the same.
Attend without the undead.
Have the undead hide nearby.
Walk straight through the front gate with an undead bodyguard.
Send all your undead over the wall and watch the mayhem.
No change in stats.
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#
¿
Sep 25, 2014 22:32
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
Walk in with an undead army and just attend class like normal because why wouldn't we
What's the point of a posse no one knows about? Walk right in as the leader of the pack.
Time to be King poo poo with out Entourage.
Are these votes for swarming the school or attending with a bodyguard? I'm pretty certain the former will just end in massacring/roughing up everybody at school, instead of pretending like you've got new, tough friends.
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#
¿
Sep 26, 2014 01:30
|
|
- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
Eh, close enough. I wanted to doublecheck since the option only says "undead bodyguard", which put me in mind of a single bodyguard. Fake Edit: And I was wrong about that, so.
quote:
You assemble an impressive escort; two shambling, moaning zombies and two clattering skeletons. One elbows the other in the ribs.
You take a deep breath, check the humerus is secure in your pocket, and march towards the gates and the noisy kids behind them.
It feels cinematic; shot in slow motion. It's like the opening of Reservoir Dogs or the end of Ocean's Eleven. For the first time, you've got a gang, a team, a clique. You just had to pull their decomposing bodies from the earth itself.
Despite your undead backup, you feel your heart hammer as you enter the school.
quote:
"Woah! Look at Bastienne!" A girl from the year below you yells and points. You're a little surprised she knows your name.
You hear gasps, see hands pressed to mouths. A gap opens up in front of you as younger kids scramble out of the way. For once, you're head girl. You're in charge. You feel a smile coming on and somehow control it into a satisfied grin. You order a minion to leer at the kids, to fake a grab. You're rewarded with squeals.
"I can't tell which one is uglier." Your head snaps round. Derek Stone, a thug from your gym class, is standing in your way. Last time you tangled, he deliberately kicked a volleyball into your face. Your eyes watered for half an hour.
"Good costumes," he snarls, and rolls up his sleeves. "Shame about the faces." He squares up to the undead.
Take him on by yourself.
Order the undead to humiliate him.
Order the undead to slaughter him.
Scatter the undead for general mayhem.
Stats posted:
A successful necromancer must manage an array of vital character statistics.
Control: 68%
Energy: 42%
Luck: 61% (+4)
Corruption: 3%
Humanity: 2%
You are recognised and distrusted.
Your undead army consists of:
Skeletons: 5
Zombies: 2
and it has killed 2 people in total.
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|
#
¿
Sep 26, 2014 02:07
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|
- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
This necromancy business has caused you a lot of personal bother. You're not about to put aside the benefits for somebody else's idea of a fair fight. You give the order.
A skeleton darts forwards and pulls down Derek Stone's trousers. In fact, it pretty much rips them off, and his underwear with them. His combat stance falters, then his hands flash down to cover his junk.
There is a strange silence. You can see the other kids trying to work out how to react. On one hand, undead terror from beyond the grave. On the other, bloke with no trousers on. Eventually they seem to opt for what they know, the fingers raise and the giggles begin. Derek Stone stomps off with as much dignity as anybody can manage with torn trousers around their ankles.
quote:
You find a quiet spot near the back of the school where you can climb up, catch a breather, and still have an escape route over the wall. You guess you're not going to classes any time soon.
After a moment, you hear the click of approaching feet. Weary, you get ready to flee. Then a familiar face peers around the corner. It's Max, one of the in-crowd and someone you've always found it difficult to take your eyes off of.
Wait for Max—who's a girl—to notice you.
Wait for Max—who's a boy—to notice you.
Drop over the wall and get out of there before Max sees you.
Stats posted:
A successful necromancer must manage an array of vital character statistics.
Control: 68%
Energy: 42%
Luck: 64% (+3)
Corruption: 3%
Humanity: 4% (+2)
You are recognised and distrusted.
Your undead army consists of:
Skeletons: 5
Zombies: 2
and it has killed 2 people in total.
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|
#
¿
Sep 26, 2014 04:55
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|
- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
You've been in a few classes with Max. His full name is Maxwell, but everybody calls him Max. It seems inappropriate because he's quite a minimal person. His clothes, his watch, his shoes—they're simple but look expensive. Even when his crowd get excitable and raucous, he's always a little detached, with a smile that says he sees more and knows more than he lets on. Max's eyes finally meet yours. "What are you doing up there?" He doesn't really seem to expect an answer. He climbs up and sits beside you. You're not sure how to react. The wall feels uncomfortable all of a sudden.
"Big day, huh?" Max says. "Undead roaming the school grounds. Beats that time Nik Shields stole the JCB digger and drove it down the steps."
Claim not to have seen any undead.
Agree and act cool.
Ask if Max is OK.
Tell another story about Nik Shields.
Stats posted:
A successful necromancer must manage an array of vital character statistics.
Control: 68%
Energy: 42%
Luck: 64%
Corruption: 3%
Humanity: 5% (+1)
You are recognised and distrusted.
Your undead army consists of:
Skeletons: 5
Zombies: 2
and it has killed 2 people in total.
|
|
#
¿
Sep 26, 2014 18:26
|
|
- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
You remember an incident about Nik Shields setting a flag on fire and jumping off a roof with it. Max snorts. "Yep," he says. "Sounds about right."
Max shifts on the wall to straddle it and sits in silence for a moment. You feel his eyes on you. "Of course, I know who brought them," he says. "I didn't realise you were a necromancer." Max grins. "You never show it in class."
You risk a glance at Max, at those blue eyes and that immaculate frame of blonde hair. There is something conspiratorial in that gaze, something you can't quite read. The corner of his mouth turns up and he blinks slowly.
Admit it and talk a little.
Deny it.
Slip over the wall and withdraw from this conversation.
Pull a minion back to kill Max.
No change in stats.
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|
#
¿
Sep 27, 2014 03:14
|
|
- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
You own up to being a necromancer but explain you're new to the game.
Max nods like he already knows all about it. "If it were me, I'd have brought them to school too," he says. "Lots of irritating people you can shut up in one day." He looks past you for a moment and smiles. "But I've got to tell you—you did it with a certain style."
Max looks in your eyes again. His attention is flattering. He stretches out a finger and touches you lightly, just under your ear. He strokes down to your chin. The skin tingles. Something stops you pulling away.
"You can do something special here," Max says. "I expect mayhem on a grand scale. An epic scale. I'll be watching." He slips off the wall and walks away, giving one quick glance over his shoulder.
You really don't know how to feel about that.
quote:
It's a new day.
The weather is overcast and gloomy. Wind whistles around your house and occasional showers rap on the windows.
You have to pop out to the corner shop for supplies: milk, bread, skin cream for the zombies, mineral oil for the skeletons, and industrial-strength cleaner for…well, everything. On the way into the shop, you collide with a black-clad figure in big, goth boots. It's Sam, whom you know from school. You feel heat in your cheeks and mutter apologies as you squeeze past.
Is it because you find Sam attractive? Admit it.
Yes, and Sam's a boy.
Yes, and Sam's a girl.
I am a solitary necromancer with a secret life. I find no-one attractive.
Huh. Looks like you guys have a chance at both romances. Didn't know you could do that.
Stats posted:
A successful necromancer must manage an array of vital character statistics.
Control: 68%
Energy: 44% (+2)
Luck: 64%
Corruption: 3%
Humanity: 5%
You are recognised and distrusted.
Your undead army consists of:
Skeletons: 5
Zombies: 2
and it has killed 2 people in total.
|
|
#
¿
Sep 27, 2014 05:30
|
|
- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
You've been in a few classes with Sam. Her full name is Samantha. You suppose she must be a goth; the black velvet dress, bushy black hair, simple ankh, and intricate eyeliner are definite markers.
You're not entirely sure why you like her in particular; maybe it's because she does her own thing and doesn't seem intimidated by anyone, even the popular bitch squad. Maybe it's because she's always reading but she's not a snob about books. Or maybe it's just that smile.
You'd like to get to know her better. But you've missed your chance for today. You agonise over how you might engineer a chance to bump into her again.
quote:
"Hi." Sam stands outside in the sun, waiting for you. She gives a smile which manages to be enigmatic and dazzling at the same time. "Get anything good?"
You make a couple of ineffective noises and try to smile back. Your mouth feels wired into a grimace. You don't want to talk about the six litres of industrial-strength cleaner you just bought.
Artfully change the subject.
Talk about how lame the shops are in Basingstoke-on-Trent.
Complain about them being out of your favourite noodles.
Make a joke about doing secret drug deals in the corner shop.
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#
¿
Sep 27, 2014 16:37
|
|
- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
You claim to have purchased half a brick of Colombian marching powder for a knock-down price.
"Yeah. Their Mexican brown is the best." Sam doesn't miss a beat. "I never get mine anywhere else."
You stroll along the street for a while. "A couple more years and we're out of this dump for ever," Sam says. She is planning to move away to university. You feel a sudden lurch in your stomach. With the death of your parents, your future has become very uncertain. Undead faces loom in your mind's eye.
Ask about Sam's plans.
Sneak in a compliment.
Admit your uncertainty about the future.
Exit this uncomfortable conversation.
Stats posted:
A successful necromancer must manage an array of vital character statistics.
Control: 68%
Energy: 44%
Luck: 65% (+1)
Corruption: 3%
Humanity: 6% (+1)
You are recognised and distrusted.
Your undead army consists of:
Skeletons: 5
Zombies: 2
and it has killed 2 people in total.
|
|
#
¿
Sep 27, 2014 19:58
|
|
- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
You don't know Sam very well but you have a feeling you can trust her. Without explaining why, you admit you don't really know where your life will take you.
"I'll tell you something my dad said," Sam says. "He said you only learn, only really learn, by making mistakes. And the earlier you make them, the better."
You muse on this in silence.
"Of course, later in the same day, he messed up with a saw and nearly cut off one of his fingers." Sam smiles.
It takes you five more minutes to realise that you are walking towards your house. Under normal circumstances you could invite Sam in. You could get to know her better. You have a brief flash of roaming the streets, hand in hand with an elegant princess of darkness, an honour guard of undead marching in your wake. Maybe you should dig out some early Anne Rice stuff and read it again. However…you are currently running a guest house for the undead and that sort of precludes unexpected visitors.
Sam tips her head to the side. "You zoned out there for moment," she says.
You're at the end of your street. Time to say goodbye to Sam. You never know what might be peering out of your window.
quote:
"Just a minute." Sam bits her lip and looks at the ground. Your head buzzes. Is she nervous about talking to you?
"I hear that you've, um…" she says, "…recently made some, ah, new friends."
You're not quite sure what she is getting at. This is Basingstoke-on-Trent. The pool of potential friends is, frankly, limited.
Sam scuffs the ground with one big goth boot. "I heard about what happened at school. I worked out it was you. Some of them are saying it was a costume stunt that got out of hand. But I don't think that's what happened." She looks up into your eyes.
You freeze.
Laugh it off and flee.
Pretend not to understand.
Confide in Sam.
Let her see one of the undead.
Stats posted:
A successful necromancer must manage an array of vital character statistics.
Control: 68%
Energy: 44%
Luck: 66% (+1)
Corruption: 3%
Humanity: 6%
You are recognised and distrusted.
Your undead army consists of:
Skeletons: 5
Zombies: 2
and it has killed 2 people in total.
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#
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Sep 27, 2014 20:41
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
With a shrug, you beckon Sam to follow. She raises an eyebrow.
The neighbourhood is quiet. You lead her down the side of the house to where the fence is highest. Something stops you taking her inside. Instead, you take the humerus from your pocket. Sam's eyes widen as she watches the glowing liquid run through its slow cycle.
While her gaze is fixed on the bone, you draw a skeleton out through the back door. It strikes a dramatic, Ray Harryhausen stance of menace. Sam looks up and actually leaps back against the fence. "Holy poo poo!" she shouts, and then immediately covers her mouth.
You move the undead a little: head tilt, arm flex, slow advance. Sam watches it come, breathing hard.
Slaughter Sam.
Let Sam touch your minion.
Withdraw it back into the house.
No change in stats.
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#
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Sep 28, 2014 03:01
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
Sam extends a hand and, very gingerly, touches the undead. "Woah," she says. "I'm not even seeing things." It shuffles a little and watches her with patient curiosity.
After a few moments, you order the undead back inside. It takes unhurried steps and disappears into the kitchen. You close the door.
"So the rumours are true," Sam says. "What the—I mean, what are you even going to do with this?"
You don't know. But you put the kettle on, and you sit in the garden and talk in low voices, your heads close together. Much later, as the last daylight fades, Sam gets up to leave. She puts a hand on your shoulder for a few electric moments.
"You've got a lot of courage," she says. "I know you'll do something good with this. Something important."
Then she's gone. You take a long breath of night air before you go in.
quote:
Inside the house, you are struck by a feeling that something is wrong, something out of place. You freeze and listen. You hear nothing, except—is that a cold breeze against your skin? You imagine armed police in bulletproof vests, crouched against doorways, waiting for the signal to take you down—seconds away—
You look back at the door to outside. Should you trust your instincts?
quote:
"What time do you call this?"
The shriek makes you leap right off the floor. An immensely tall woman looms towards you, straggly red hair plastered down the side of her face with what looks like swamp water. She wears a loose green slip from some long-ago era, while her eyes are wide, dark-rimmed, and fixed on you.
It takes you a moment to realise she is floating six inches above the linoleum.
Make a break for it.
Talk to her in a calm tone.
Summon the undead to attack.
Stats posted:
A successful necromancer must manage an array of vital character statistics.
Control: 69% (+1)
Energy: 44%
Luck: 71% (+5)
Corruption: 3%
Humanity: 7% (+1)
You are recognised and distrusted.
Your undead army consists of:
Skeletons: 5
Zombies: 2
and it has killed 2 people in total.
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#
¿
Sep 28, 2014 04:19
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- Adbot
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ADBOT LOVES YOU
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#
¿
Apr 27, 2024 21:15
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- Oblivion4568238
- Oct 10, 2012
-
The Inquisition.
What a show.
The Inquisition.
Here. We. Go.
-
College Slice
|
quote:
You politely enquire what this shrill apparition is doing in your house. She seems a little miffed at your calm demeanour.
The woman drifts closer, towering over you, looking down her bony nose like a nightmare primary school teacher. She smells of grave dirt and Lily Of The Valley.
"The arrogance," she hisses. "You conjure the dead from their resting places below, for a twilight existence of whimsy and servitude. You quarter them here, in grubby suburban squalor. And then, do you spend your time caring for their immortal souls? No. You pop out to the shops."
Point out you went to buy serious cleaning materials.
Explain that you didn't exactly choose to become a necromancer.
Challenge this woman's right to lecture you.
Stats posted:
A successful necromancer must manage an array of vital character statistics.
Control: 70% (+1)
Energy: 44%
Luck: 71%
Corruption: 3%
Humanity: 7%
You are recognised and distrusted.
Your undead army consists of:
Skeletons: 5
Zombies: 2
and it has killed 2 people in total.
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#
¿
Sep 28, 2014 05:11
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#
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Sep 10, 2014 00:35
