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Don't keep shooting Its wasting shots because there's no object loaded into the hopper to burn for soul energy.
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Aug 16, 2016 18:36
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Puppies are dicks posted:Don't keep shooting Its wasting shots because there's no object loaded into the hopper to burn for soul energy. You know from experience that ##Nåzom Stegėth## automatically loads bolts from the ammunition chamber into the firing lane. Well, it should? It doesn't appear to be doing that now, and there wasn't anything loaded into it that you could see a moment earlier, but you could still fire it. The display numbers even went down in the same way as before. They now read [001/003] Logically then, there should be one iron "javelin" bolt left to shoot, even if you can't see it.
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Aug 16, 2016 18:54
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Nyaa posted:keep shooting yea gently caress it there's only 1 shot left anyway, might as well use it
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Aug 16, 2016 21:38
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No Shooting! This effect might be very powerful, and might not be capable of being reloaded. Let's not waste the shots until we properly know what they do.
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Aug 16, 2016 22:48
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Sunk cost fallacy. We must keep shooting!
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Aug 16, 2016 22:50
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Nyaa posted:Sunk cost fallacy. We must keep shooting! That's not what that means  Sunk cost fallacy would mean that you should keep shooting because you were already committed, which would work AGAINST your own argument! EDIT: Wait that's the point you were actually making, wasn't it? In my defense I'm really tired right now. Theantero fucked around with this message at 22:54 on Aug 16, 2016 |
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Aug 16, 2016 22:52
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I'm sure it can be reloaded, we just don't know how yet.
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Aug 16, 2016 22:54
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Waci posted:I'm sure it can be reloaded, we just don't know how yet. That is not a bet I'm super comfortable in making, even if I admit it is likely the case.
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Aug 16, 2016 22:56
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Theantero posted:That is not a bet I'm super comfortable in making, even if I admit it is likely the case.
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Aug 16, 2016 23:01
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What if the other number is the "number of shots to kill?". We should fire into the snakes face however.
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Aug 17, 2016 02:48
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I still think we're dry-firing or otherwise missing out on some critical component/action which will damage the device in the long term. My suggestion if we're not going to spidermarm it to just gently caress it up normal-style. Maybe we can use our connection to the arbalest to control the lances already fired? They (and it) are sort of built straight out of our living soul after all, so exerting control over one or both might work.
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Aug 17, 2016 02:56
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Instead of shooting, I propose deft evasive maneuvers.
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Aug 19, 2016 10:54
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That only delays the indigestion.
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Aug 20, 2016 05:01
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Dread Time flows differently here, you realize. Distance is relative. What should take but moments might last hours and the small stretch of shore between you and certain doom would take a year to cross, no matter the quality of horsey legs. You feel as always the inexorable tug to your body, though varying with intensity as the snake slithers here or there, weakening as the serpent crawls over the smallest patch of your cord and strengthening when it goes elsewhere. The zig-zag movement makes you nauseous in a way normal senses cannot really describe. It is as if you would want to vomit thoughts, expel ideas and hide in the smallest of spaces. The creature before you is glowing white blue with starlight. It is a reflection of a reflection, breaking apart at the seems. You want to help it along. Three spears have already pierced it, and after but the shortest eternity one more shall be released. It is grim business, but it seems either you or it. Yet fear holds your heart in bondage, leaking of off the snake much like blood from an open wound. The dead-white holes of its countenance seeking you out on your throne of violence. Will it be enough? When the Boa Conflictor, ten times your size, has encircled your position, has become your horizon? What are spears of stolen iron to a beast of the real and the strange? To a being that thrives on murder, dissension and carnage? Inflicts it upon the living, until they are no more? Oak and iron forms your fortress, pillars of light illuminating your artifact and cementing its presence against all who would oppose you. ##Nåzom Stegėth## is your creation, though you know not the how or why, for your efforts were guided by spirits beyond your ken. Your soul inhabits it like an extension of your body and it quivers with your doubt. Should you flee? Mimicking the cave-lizards of your mountainhome of Tukatt Hold, leaving your tail that you might live to see another day? Or should you fight, somehow end the threat before you? It looms over you and extends its jaws grotesque, reaching for you with many fanged mouth. Each tooth tipped with poison built to end your dreams. Soon the light is all that remains. Starlight bent through the mould of a serpent, callous and evil.  --- Though terror consumes you, the snake does not. Instead the rift returns with the chill of winter. Wrongness. Robbing the area of warmth and atmosphere, leaving death as its calling card. A white spear materializes in the firing chamber of ##Nåzom Stegėth## as the serpent is upon it. Fired from point blank range it shatters the ghost as a dwarven sledgehammer upon frailest glass. From the point of impact outwards, fracture racing fracture and uniting until it is no more then a web of shards.  The bolt cleaves its as might the finest slime-honed blade cut through the ripe fruit of some nobles feast. Shedding it into halves that fall in on themselves, curling up into pieces infinitesimal.  A glowing fissure is unravelling before you, the remnants of the ghost of the Boa Conflictor dissolving into fractal white cherry petals and once more into ash. The embers rising linger on the gale created by the loss of air and more besides: it is as if the world itself is mourning.  --- 1: You are cold and emotionally exhausted, but the danger has passed. As the blinding light of the dwarf-made vortex fades so to does the firmness of your malicious machine. Only two pillars remain, spanning the void between the arbalest and the empyrean. Holding it in place? For now. The dials read [000/002]. You intuit that you must be out of 'javelins', but you can see no way to reload it from here. Unsure of what to do next, you expand your senses as much as you are able. Sit quiet for a while in the pouring rain and the fresh dark.  Rain. A: Seven orbs of varied colour, size, intensity and warmth flit about around you. They are familiar and they tug at your body like urchins at a fair or as small fish nibbling at your toes. You could inspect them, it would be easy. One of the orbs is noticeably weaker than the others. It is dying. B: A great many presences of varying degrees of cold and warm are nearby. Do they tug at you, or is it a gravity arising from their number? You could inspect them, it would be easy. Some of them are in danger. Others, dying. C: You feel other tugs both warm and cold in all directions save up and down. You would need to travel to find them. The closests ones are in Braav. You could go there, find them, inspect them. It would be easy, though you might not be able to do much else. D: There is a wrongness about the area surrounding ##Nåzom Stegėth##. It is cold. You could inspect it. It would be easy. E: There is a wrongness further away. It is cold, but the chill is disappearing with every breath. You could track it, but this might be your only chance. F: There is a storm of sorrows dissipating into the aether as the Boa Conflictor is unmade. Out of mercy or malice, you could cusp it in your hands before it dies away. It would be costly. You would have to be quick. It is not much longer for this world. G: Your body lies not far away. All the recent events have been frightening and confusing, and you long to return 'home'. Go back. Follow the tug of your cord. There is as of this moment no cost associated with this. It is safe. H: Somewhere else? The world is vast and peculiar. You might travel elsewhere, though you feel you have not the energy required to go on forever. I: Help what is even going on??? Crumbs trail from your body with every thought and action. What more could be done if you knew what they were, how they worked? Though you have none other than yourself with which to craft theory, you spend the rest of your time here in quiet contemplation. You have 03 crumbs remaining.
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Aug 20, 2016 17:37
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A: Seven orbs of varied colour, size, intensity and warmth flit about around you. They are familiar and they tug at your body like urchins at a fair or as small fish nibbling at your toes. You could inspect them, it would be easy. One of the orbs is noticeably weaker than the others. It is dying.
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Aug 20, 2016 17:39
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D is tempting, but if we don't A now we may not be able to help the guy. A, go towards the dying orb. Or we could try to force the snake shards into the guy's body, nothing could possibly go wrong.
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Aug 20, 2016 17:48
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F
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Aug 20, 2016 17:58
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Mr. Nemo posted:D is tempting, but if we don't A now we may not be able to help the guy. These orbs keep coming up, we should find out about them while we still have cupcakes.
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Aug 20, 2016 18:22
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7 orbs total and one is dying. We have 6 companions and the one acolyte of Toil is dying. Seems clear enough what this option is referring to. A and see if there's anything we can do for the dying one.
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Aug 20, 2016 18:40
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A, try to save the dying orb.
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Aug 20, 2016 19:50
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A now lets do what we ate a cupcake for.
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Aug 20, 2016 19:53
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Aug 20, 2016 20:23
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I say F We have a once in a lifetime opportunity to steal some Psychic Anger Snake essence at the cost of some Crumbs. I say take it. Maybe we gain psychic powers too.
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Aug 20, 2016 21:58
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A dwarf's work is never over.
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Aug 21, 2016 12:41
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Orbs Ignoring the final whirling dervish of the dying wrathful viper in favour of curious orbs, you flit about the area following the tugs and flows that seem strongest, navigating more by feel than sight for that offers least resistance, feels most familiar.  You first come to a sphere both complex and azure. It's tug is the most consistent, the heat coming of it most pleasant. It feels familiar in a way the others do not. It is as if for a moment you can sense a common pull for both you and it, an otherwise invisible band of force linking you and it together and to others, far away. It is proud.  Next you see a fiery Orb before you. It is hot and the tug from it is stronger than most of the others. It is unpredictable though not fully chaotic. The Orb is excited though not to the degree of the Excited Red you met earlier. This orb has a more natural feel and is much more complex besides.  This Orb has a distinct purple glow and feels otherwise very solid. Out of all the orbs present, this one is the firmest and least excitable. Where others swirl with light fantastic, this one is content to glow in peace. It is neither hot nor cold, though it still tugs at you weakly. It is deathly afraid and has been for a long time.  Coldest of the orbs present, this matte and yellow affair tugs at you with surprising strength. No. The strength is not for you, you realize. You are just in the way. It is worried... about the other orbs? It is very concerned.  Green with a hint of yellow, this orb feels very orderly. It is lukewarm and tugs harder than the purple orb. It is focused and on its guard.  Darkest green and shimmering, this Orb feels warmer than the greenish yellow one but tugs with equal strength. It is nauseated and skittish, but also determined.  This Orb is partially translucent with a bluish tint and made entirely out of cogs. Many are broken or out of alignment. The rhythm of the machinery reminds you on something you heard recently, a saying? A song? But you cannot remember what, exactly. You just know the melody is wrong, that it sounds offkey. Could be more efficient. It is weak. It is dying. --- 1: What were you doing here anyway? Looking at orbs? Fixing them? The last one you saw is in dire straits. Maybe you could help it? A: Help the dying, blue cog-orb by replacing or rebuilding the broken cogs out of whatever is at hand. What do you use? -Aa: One of the other orbs. Which one? -Ab: Yourself. -Ad: The two pillars of light surrounding ##Nåzom Stegéth## -Ae: Something, anything from the mass of unidentified presences nearby. You won't have time to be picky. B: Help the dying, blue cog-orb by re-organizing the mis-aligned cogs as best you can suss out in what time you have left. C: Help the dying, blue cog-orb by reminding it of the rythm you cannot remember. Remember it anwyay. How did it go? So hard to think, unless you concentrate. D: Help the dying, blue cog-orb in another way that isn't described above. How? Write-in. --- 2: Actually I don't want to help the dying, blue cog-orb. I instead vote one of the options from the previous vote. E: See previous vote. Note that option F is no longer available. --- You have 02 crumbs remaining.
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Aug 22, 2016 21:43
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D. Only realign the cog while singing the Song of Repair from Dwarven lore to remind the cog of its proper functional shape.
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Aug 22, 2016 23:34
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Ok, so the orbs are the people around us, let's try to match themSwedish Thaumocracy posted:
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Aug 22, 2016 23:40
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D. Forget realigning, we're a dwarf who's hot poo poo 2 for 2 (?) at making badass artifacts while under the influence! Make new gears, remove old gears, and refit damaged gears so that the orb operates with maximal prime/coprime efficiency! You know what's actually a really great skill to have when fitting/building gears? Multiplication and division on the fly. I forget the proper term but it involves calculating the number of teeth the right way to run best. http://reprap.org/wiki/Gear_design
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Aug 22, 2016 23:40
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C - Sounds interesting!
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Aug 22, 2016 23:42
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B+C The machine orb is broken. A thing of duty and mechanism is struggling to complete its function. The orb is singing, but the song is broken. Is the song a function of the orb, or is the orb the manifestation of the song? The answer is both and neither. The gears sing the song that commands the gears to sing. The snake vomiting its own tail. The song we remember will help us guide the gears back into place and thus help the orb sing its true song. We don't remember the words but the gears will guide us and when we don't know which gear to shift the melody will move the machine. It is not a thing to understand or command, it is the simple act of creation and it is something that must flow. Like with our ballista, just let the healing flow naturally.
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Aug 22, 2016 23:42
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Arkanomen posted:B+C This
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Aug 22, 2016 23:54
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Ad Hell yea Siege Paladin Seems appropriate to pass Toils blessing onto one of his most devout servants- we've just wasted it killing giant snakes anyway
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Aug 23, 2016 00:02
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Arkanomen posted:B+C Another vote for this combo. As for the orbs and who they represent: I think Sheep-Dodger has it mostly right, though I would switch Khami and Konnie. Khami is the contemplative and silent type with a mysterious past. The being deathly afraid for a long time raises some interesting questions about what exactly has happened to him during his previous adventures.
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Aug 23, 2016 00:11
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Told you we should've grabbed the snake to put it inside this guy. Aa.The fiery ball, I never liked Abigail anyway.
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Aug 23, 2016 02:26
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Ab. We have crumbs. There is a need. Maybe the crumbs can meet that need?
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Aug 23, 2016 12:00
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Got to go with plan Ark this time around.
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Aug 23, 2016 14:37
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Ad. Empower the Paladin of Toil with an artifact of Toil!
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Aug 23, 2016 14:42
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AbysmalPeptoBismol posted:Another vote for this combo. The reason I assigned Konnie to the afraid orb is his reaction to the owlbears, though I may be wrong about that, depending how long the orb has been afraid. Also: Khami has recently vomited his guts out, so he's a lock for the nauseated orb. sheep-dodger fucked around with this message at 18:11 on Aug 23, 2016 |
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Aug 23, 2016 18:07
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D, wait until that snake is done and feed in into the cogs. Dunno what'll happen, but it'll be interesting.
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Aug 24, 2016 21:49
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Budget healing Gears upon gears unending. Cogs, turning spokes and twisiting rods. They are duty, but you do not grasp the cause. They are devotion, but for whom you could not say. They strain against their own inevitable end, against the nature of the damage they have received. They long to perform the last remnants of their unknown harmony, and they refuse to surrender. But soon, surrender they must. The teeth linking cog with chain to distant cog are chipped, the setting of the whole is fractured. Orientation is skewed. The overall effect of a million imperfections of this kind has introduced disharomy and the totality suffers. You do not know the music of the orb. You cannot remember the rhythm, however much you try. Trailing crumbs with very gesture, you must conserve yourself to save him. But how shall you save him, how shall you fix it? You are no smith. Forging the cogs anew, without plan or blueprint? Without mould or forge? Would it be possible? How long would it take? Time you do not have for sure. Where would you even get the materials? Though you have seen clockwork before, even wielded it as an extension of your will to the purpose of creation: you do not truly know it. Other forces guided you. None such will help you here. No. You are not a smith. But you are an accountant. Who cares what a gear should look like, or how to make one, when all that matters is the result? Seeing patterns, organizing data and slimming the budget to conform with what is available is your bread and butter. You have never needed more than words and numbers to tell you the taxable value of a bag of Bad Duck Wice, why should the workings of a soul of gears be any different? This problem, however mystical, is surely no more than a musical balancing act heavy with the sound of maths. You close your eyes but it doesn't matter. You reach into Orb and begin to take account. Imagine the cogs in columns and rows. The intricate mechanisms to be formulae that flow from simple logic. Things you do understand.  Laying it out before you like a numeric jigsaw puzzle until it clicks. Until it clicks and your fingers tap parts of the unknowable beat on the metal structure. Work it, Make it. Do it. Fix it. Adjust a cog just so, to make it better. Correct your movement, but do it faster. You can almost hear it now, in the steady thrum of your heartbeat. The raging of the river beyond that until a moment ago was silent. The song of birds in the glen. In the hazy visage of your friends. Wait... The colour is returning. You go into shock. Your arms are elbow deep in another's core. You try to will yourself to stay, but your cord grows taut. Your body calls for you and the pull is inescapable. The sensation is sickening, violent and fast. All the possibilities of your utter freedom in this other world are confined. You are dragged screaming from your work. You are locked away in shackles of meat, a prison of bone. You fill every pore of yourself, become your every thought. Every breath, spasm, contraction and emotion. You reach out, but the way is barred.  You go to sleep: and you wake up. ---  "Hey boss." The world fades back into view. You feel awful. The corpse of the snake looks somehow even more dead than before. It is worthless. A spider is observing you. You are being watched. The knight is gone, but a trail of blood betrays his new whereabouts; in the wreck or beyond, where the other members of ITEC are busying themselves with the work of rescue. "Figured I ought to keep an eye on you. Sleeping on the job eh? I could go for that." He snickers, but his heart isn't in it. "That, eh. The wreck. It ain't pretty." - He looks almost green in the face as he says it. "A'int pretty at all. There's a lot of bodies. Wasn't even the crash that did it, from what I can tell. Or even the snake. Well. Directly, at least. Strangulations mostly. Beatings with whatever was available. Mostly people in their prime. The young and old are mostly unconscious. Guessing they didn't have the strength to follow through or weren't enough of a threat for the others. They were left behind." 1: The others are doing what they can, though we have a situation or two that needs your attention. Y'see, the Knight, he's a Paladin of Toil. He hasn't, hasn't come out and said it, but you can tell he is looking for something. First thing he did when he woke up, checked to see if the monster was dead. Searched it the surrounding area. Now hes over in the wreck helping those he can, giving comfort to those dying. Asking pointed questions to survivors. About his mission, mostly. He questioned us as well. But he keeps grasping unconsciously for his sword in his empty scabbard. Like a part of him is missing. I know searchin', Boss. And I know Abigail is hiding it. She thinks she's earned it and I half figure she does. I don't fancy waking either of their ires. What should we do?  A: Ignore the situation and hope it sorts itself out. B: Convince Abigail to give up the sword. Write-In arguments are encouraged. C: Take the sword from Abigail and present it to the Paladin. D: Tell Abigail to hide it amongst your gear, by the horses. The Paladin is not very likely to look for it there. --- 2: Next, theres the bodies and the injured. We don't exactly have the means to cart a boat-load of people back to Braav. The Paladin and Johakim are doing what they can, but some are too far gone or dying either way. Burying the dead here would only attract more monsters, if they aren't already on their way now that the snake is gone. We could also send a runner, try to get the church involved. Or we could do it all ourselves. No garrisons nearby that would get here in time. What do you think? E: Ignore the situation and hope it sorts itself out. F: Burn the dead on the spot. Resolve to escort all the survivors back yourself. You are about half a day out from Braav, travelling at nearly full speed with your horse and cart. Escorting all the survivors would slow you down considerably. Carting all the dead to Braav to meet the demands of their varied faiths is impossible without multiple trips, but burning them should be easy enough and is an acceptable alternative. You even have a wreck full of lumber to act as fuel, ready to go. G: Send a runner to Braav, to Reverend Due. He could likely organize a larger contingency to deal with the fallout of this Imperial Disaster. The rest of ITEC will stay here, acting as guards and impromptu medics until help arives. Who should make the trip? H: Something else? Write-in. --- 3: "And eh, I wanted to talk to you... Did you feel it too boss? The anger? It was only there for a moment, until, until you shot it, or whatever happened. Until Abigail killed it off for good. I only felt it for a moment, but the people on the boat? If the Paladin hadn't been there, hadn't lured it off... How much worse would it have been? What was that thing, boss? I know we fight monsters.. but that was beyond... What happened, Boss? How can the Empire, the Gods, allow such a thing to occur? I: Write-in. --- 4: After talking to Konnie and deciding upon ITECs next general course of action, there remains much still unclear around you. Your strange visions in that other world, the wrongness and chill around ##Nåzom Stegėth##, and another wrongness beyond that? You do not feel the pulls and tugs anymore, but you vaguely remember direction. Whilst the others busy themselves, you could investigate. Or you could help them and see the wreck for yourself. Or maybe you'd rather do something else, perhaps talk to the Paladin, whose life you have surely saved? Have you? You feel as if your work was incomplete. H: Inspect ##Nåzom Stegėth## I: Inspect the distant wrongness. J: Talk to the Spider. K: Talk to the Paladin. L: Help rescue survivors, search through the wreck. M: Something else? Write-in. --- [Itec Post-Battle Summary] Everyone is unhurt. Party Thoughts are suspended until the above questions have been resolved. Morale is shaky. You feel terrible. You are being watched.
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Aug 26, 2016 21:28
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