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  HP: 2 Glory: 0->1 Flitter had seen the colours of the chrysalis subtly shift, indicating it was nearing its hatching time. She wasn't done nursing her wound, but had neverhteless joined the forrest expedition, grabbing some foodstuffs for her upcoming friend. That's when they met the sungazer. It was big and mean looking, but Flitter had seen worse. They'd had a monsterist giant catterpillar back at the farm that never stopped growing; was at least as mean as the sungazer, but if only you knew how to speak to it, you could always get it to calm down. even that one time it got into the Booze. Gawmp was being careful, offering it food - a good choice, food is always the right way to a beast heart. There's a better way, though: fortrightness and dominance. Grabbing the food from Gwamps' hand, Flitter walked up to the creature, shouted at it it, and jumped on its back. She'd just have to hold on to it for long enough to feed it, while not geting bit. EAsy for an experienced rider like flitter. Tame it!: 1d100+10 77
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Oct 26, 2017 23:42
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   Noggins Skill: Carpentry HP: 3 Glory: 14 Ritual Glory: 1 Noggins stood in front of the entry to the mineshaft, looking at the group assembled around her. Splut had already gone on ahead to try to compromise the rebels from within--if anyone would be able to sell the lies to get in, it would be him. Neebs was joining in as well, and Noggins gave her an appreciative nod. "See?" she told herself, "She's just overly cautious, that's all." Biggo and Tharbad coming along was more of a surprise. She even thought for a moment about telling them to stay put, but stopped herself. Legs or no legs, they were still some of the best fighters in the Horde, and they would need all the help they could get on this raid. "Alright! They're probably going to try and ambush us again, but this time we know it's coming. I'm going to take the lead here because hopefully this--" she knocked a fist on her breastplate "--will hold up against a surprise pickaxe to the chest if they do get the drop on us. Portha, you've been down there before and most of us haven't, so I want you up in front with me to show us where to go. Gabber, you've got Listening, right? I want you up front too, to help find them. Hat, you're the only other person with actual armor, so I think you should cover the back, in case the try to get us from behind. That sound good to everyone?" She waited for the response, and then continued. "Right then! Let's get this done!" It all seemed so clear as she said it, the pieces fitting neatly into place with no visible seams. Sure, once they were down there who knows how well it would hold up, but right now Noggins felt like she could do anything. Gripping her blade, she headed into the darkness.
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Oct 27, 2017 00:04
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Look out, FFA. Death comes for you silently.
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Oct 27, 2017 04:51
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The Lord of Hats posted:Look out, FFA. Death comes for you silently. Man you guys must want to get your Rituals at ridiculous discounts! +1 Ritual Glory unto ye. Man, I'll have to crack open the higher level Rituals earlier than expected!
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Oct 27, 2017 05:01
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^^^That we do!Magnusth posted:Gawp was being careful, offering it food - a good choice, food is always the right way to a beast's heart. There's a better way, though: forthrightness and dominance. Grabbing the food from Gawp's hand, Flitter walked up to the creature, shouted at it it, and jumped on its back. She'd just have to hold on to it for long enough to feed it, while not getting bit. Easy for an experienced rider like Flitter. 
Lux Anima fucked around with this message at 06:16 on Oct 27, 2017 |
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Oct 27, 2017 06:14
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The Lord of Hats posted:Look out, FFA. Death comes for you silently.  Awesome!!
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Oct 27, 2017 13:12
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 Sucy HP: 3 Glory: 9 Skill: Mushrooms Old Guy Vault "Oh my göd, Biggo and Tharbad, what did I just tell you about touching things? And yes, prying open a door counts as touching, even if you technically aren't touching the door. You're lucky the blades took off your legs so cleanly, you might have bled out otherwise. You're doubly lucky even, because while we were going down, I found some blue Round Heads, a quite rare species of mushroom. If you guys want After linking up with the other group that had explored the mines and hearing about their embarrassing defeat at the hands of the FFA, Sucy decided that the best course of action would be to clear out the mines before Grimper returned, as otherwise she wouldn't have access to the mycelium she'd need, and the warlord's displeasure would probably also interfere with her next experiment: Clear out the FFA: 1d100+9: 70
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Oct 27, 2017 13:37
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 CORNBREAD HP: 3 Glory: 10 Skills: Chucking poo poo (often literally) on cooldown, Yelling, Bonegineering Big fuzzie needs treats! Big fuzzie needs treats! Big fuzzie needs treats! Big fuzzie needs treats! Big fuzzie needs treats! Big fuzzie needs treats! Big fuzzie needs treats! Big fuzzie needs treats! fail miserably at taming the beastie by hurling rations at its face.: 1d100+10+10 26 Blasphemaster fucked around with this message at 03:20 on Oct 28, 2017 |
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Oct 28, 2017 03:17
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 -[Underground]- The FFA was going down. They'd dared mess with the Unexpectables, and worse, they were on the verge of making them look bad. Between the returning crew from the crossroads and those who had gone down below, they easily had the manpower to crush them. And, apparently, the gear. Upon return of the supplies, Magda had cracked one open and laughed. Armor and weapons enough for fifty soldiers, freely given by the enemy! How delicious. When an overeager Unexpectable had reached for a sword, Magda had flattened the man's finger with a hammer. “Not until the Warlord returns! As Quartermaster for this pitiful Horde, I take my orders from him, and you take your orders from me!” When a clever (but foolish) woman reminded her that with the equipment their odds at quashing the resistance increased dramatically, she threw the asker into a minecart and kicked it down the reasons. The answer was clear - ‘make do with what you’ve got’. First things first, the people of Fostis. They had circumvented their Nail, and the Horde had suffered for it. They had lied by omission and put Töan citizens in danger. The time for the kind conqueror had passed. The Unexpectables went out into town and insisted upon cooperation, demanding aid in a fashion that would not allow for disobedience.
Decrease Raid Difficulty by 5d100! --- Among the new reconnaissance had been the location of an underground rendezvous point where the rebels recruited. Splut the Bluffer volunteered to infiltrate their ranks, posing as an anti-Töan sympathizer. He found them easily enough, and draped in torn and sooty rags he looked the part. He leveraged his not-inconsiderable acting ability to spin a tale of woe and revenge, hoping for sympathy.
Increase Raid Difficulty by 1d100! There was only one problem.
The Unexpectables surged into their last bastion like a flood, the sheer weight of them crushing the surprised defenders against the walls. Unyielding fists, clubs, hammers and swords rose and fell with practised ease, making short work of the pitiful remnants. Soon, the FFA were little more than stains marring the dark stone. But while their vengeful orgy was wild and terrible, it was not altogether uncontrolled. Some dim part of each of them cooly assessed their blows, calculating the optimal killing strike that would leave their enemy's Skillcore undamaged. It was new, and it was yet raw, but this was the power of the Nail.
  (Unsurprisingly, you stomped those fools and took their lunch money! Well done! They left behind a number of Skillcores PLUS some bonus ones due to your Ritual: Mining x2, Blasting, Triangulation, Backflips, Whistling, Drinking AND Imagining and Night Vision. Their meagre riches can be rolled for during your upcoming Downtime as usual. Also, Splut takes 2 Damage from getting his rear end kicked from angry miners!) --- Magda said nothing as the warriors returned, bloodied and grim, from the mines. She just nodded and took in the wounded and unconscious Splut with a level gaze, then swallowed phelgm and spoke. “Well, the town is yours. Some among you may regret the part you played in crushing what remained of their spirit, and plundering the riches of their town. Well, cut it out. You were strong this time, and they were weak. This scum wouldn't think twice if they were in your shoes, so you shouldn't even think once. You did well… Grimper has not yet returned, nor have I heard from him. Go now, and recuperate, but be aware we may pull out and go reinforce them at a moment's notice. Oh, by the way - we're cracking those crates early. Arm up, we might need it.” She waved one meaty paw at several neat rows of arms and armor. Dig in!     (The stolen shipments contained arms and armor enough for fifty, as mentioned previously. Take a Weapon or Armor, and the rest will filter into the Mooks. Naturally the Nägel crew won't have access to this just yet, but the next time they meet up with you they'll be able to as well. Additionally new characters begin with a Weapon or Armor. They're all plain pieces of gear worth +1, but that saves you each 5 Glory regardless, as well as effectively adding +100 to the Horde. Neat! Also, though the pictures depict swords, they don't NEED to be - let me know what you find!) --- -[Morrskag Forest]- Sungazer had yet to see them, but it was a majestic specimen of Monsterism. Many prominent, alert eyes - all functional! - massive and functional size, and clear signs of intelligence. Well, cunning, at very least. The Horde all agreed it would be a terrible shame to kill it… but to tame it? To ride on its back into battle, flying the Slinker banner of their company? The idea caught fire amongst the hunters, and its instigator stepped forth to make the attempt. Wielding a precious hunk of Töan Combat Bread, Gawp the Perceiver drew close to the great beast, accompanied by a few other brave fools. One eye lazily focused on him, the pupil all wrong. It sniffed the air through an airway choked with mucus.
 -it burst, showering everyone nearby in a noxious cloud of stinging vapor. In the chaos, Sungazer and his cadre burst through the stunned Horde and into the deeper forest. Covered in shallow bites and scored by dirty claws, the erstwhile hunters allowed themselves to be extracted by Pythag the Mathematician and his men...
(Well dang! The Mook that contracted Skinkellelomas worsened, gaining a terrible pox and… nothing else. It's not dangerous, in and of itself, it's just disfiguring. Everyone who was hit by Sungazer is also infected - if your next roll is odd, it'll worsen, and show up on your portrait. It may also render you susceptible to stuff down the line, but at least it's not damage! Head home and go on Downtime - enjoy it until Grimper comes back. Also, Sungazer and his fellas have escaped. Maybe you'll find him later, or maybe he'll be a wild, free creature until the end of his days from --- -[Fostis]- The disgraced hunters burst into town several hours later, their hands filled with only their wounded. Magda’s eyebrows raised in disgust and alarm, and she coralled the infected off away from the others - but said nothing else. She took note of the ringleaders of the failed hunt, but didn’t dole out punishment. Not her place, not her problem, and she had plenty to do already sorting through all this new equipment. She also did not have any intention of catching what they had, and if a plague ripped through their numbers and killed off a few of the weaker riffraff… that could only make the Horde stronger in the end. She gazed out at the horizon towards Nägel, then returned to her sorting. Shopping Spend your hard-earned Glory to buy crap! Buying options can be roughly divided into personal purchases and Rituals: the former is stuff like weapons, armor, and sundries, while the latter will allow the entire Horde to pay towards a Ritual that will strengthen the group as a whole. You can also, naturally, keep your Glory, which makes you stronger in Conflicts and Combat - but if you die, you lose all of it! Items  As mentioned above, each of you can take 1 (one) Weapon or Armor for free! In addition, there are ten Sikatris Scarves to roll for - they are strictly cosmetic, but they are the nicest articles of clothing you’ve ever seen, by far! The Scarves are a free roll, incidentally; roll for them whatever else you do, if you want. Also also - the resources secured from the mines have decreased the cost of some items!
Encompasses swords, spears, gauntlets, etc. Adds +1 to Combat rolls. Can be used to upgrade existing weapons by 1 each time this is purchased. Describe it when you buy it, though weapons purchased from the quartermaster are of workman-like quality only. Armour [ Encompasses leather armour, plate, etc. Removes 1 from the enemy Combat rolls. Can be used to upgrade existing armour by 1 each time this is purchased. Describe it when you buy it, though armour purchased from the quartermaster are of workman-like quality only. Shield [ Blocks 1 Damage (to yourself) in Combat, then breaks. Cowardclaw [5 Glory] - A sickly-yellow flower. Its smell is repulsive and cloying - perhaps that will be enough to turn the blade away from you and towards your ally? If you would take Damage during Combat, reroll. If you roll higher than another above you, they take your place. Makeshift Sacrifire [10 Glory] - A foul concoction of volatile chemicals, much rougher than a proper formulation would be. It ought to do the trick! Can be used during any combat to instantly roll a natural 100 - and then die. However, due to its unfinished nature, roll 1d100 (no modifier) when you use it. On a 1, it backfires, sending the deadly energy at your allies! Despite the mess, harvesting of Skillcores and Gear proceeds as normal. Boomstick [5 Glory] - A canister of compressed explosive, easily activated with a small flame. Risky in enclosed areas, but deadly against structures or slow-moving creatures! Explosives +25, One Use Mining Pick [5 Glory] - A simple pick used to break up rock in mines or to dig holes. Mining +25, One Use Grappling Hook [5 Glory] - A hook attached to a length of rope, making climbing tall ledges a breeze! Climbing +25, One Use Fostis Ale [5 Glory] - A delicious cask of (lightly contaminated) local Fostis Ale! Share it with your friends! Bribe your enemies! Or bribe your friends and share it with your enemies, I'm not your mother! Camaradery +25, One Use Mad Mole [5 Glory] One In Stock - An angry, slightly-bruised mole that wants nothing more than to dig a hole and get the hell out of there. Isn't it cute? Digging +25, One Use Expensive, dangerous, magic. Not easy to perform, not easy to afford, but well worth it to increase the Horde’s survivability. Only a few are available now, but exploring ruins and sacking libraries can discover new ones. The Horde can pay into these gradually, activating them eventually once the required total is met.
Gain and additional 1d6 bonus Skillcore drops after combat - and a chance of finding advanced cores. Luck’s Fickle Gaze [10/50 Glory] - Ritual causing luck to smile on the Horde in their darkest moments - but not in their second-darkest moments. [0/50 Glory] Reroll Combat and Conflict rolls on a 1 Monsterist’s Enervating Brew [0/50 Glory] - Monsterism is a blight on the land - but it grants a ferocious power. This Ritual emphasizes this strength without causing the users to succumb. If 100 is rolled naturally, roll again and add the result -[Nägel]- The Lantern Guards swept the surroundings for whatever the hell was making that noise. In the darkness, their beams of light cut the night like blades, seeking out the source. They eventually happened upon Snödis the Poet, sitting cross legged on a stone, watching them eerily from the darkness, and Ringo the Thief nearby making spooky sounds. The Guards paused, considering them warily. They’d seen all kinds of crazy stuff within Nägel’s walls, but this was suspicious in a far more immediate way. They spread out and made to corral the gaggle of strangers.
“We’ve already wasted too much time here - at least we’ve taken their cores. It’s a fair trade - six pieces of scum for several Skillcores. At least they’ll go to the deserving!” (Go right home and to Downtime) “Oh, you think otherwise? Give me one drat good reason!” Stick around and maybe do a prison break???)    (Uh oh! Grimper is perfectly willing to leave them to rot. Have you got a compelling reason to try to break them out? Or - even better - a plan? Skillcores, on the other hand, you got a good chunk of: Gazing, Guarding, Listening AND Screaming, Grappling, Daydreaming, Cooking, Masonry, and Smithing! You also find three serviceable suits of Guard Armor and Lanterns - well, four if you count the one Humbug had!) -[Nägel Interior]- Dack, Shiny, Otter, Ringo, Snödis, and Humbug were half-dragged into a brightly lit office. In sharp contrast to the brutal concrete of the walls, the warden’s room was clean and well-appointed. The warden himself was a jovial-looking, heavyset Fröman. He didn’t look jovial right at the moment. “So. You’ve come here to wake us all up in the middle of the night, hmm? I hope you’ve come to sell us something delicious, yes? Or perhaps, there is another reason. Perhaps you are bandits, or else sent from ‘up there’, hmm? From Tö, to rumble my clean facility? Such a waste, this war. What else can be expected from you agressors, though? Your brains are so crooked, so touched with Monsterism. Some of you more than others…” He swept his eyes over Dack and Snödis, their four eyes clearly marking them as carriers. He pointed at both of them, snapped, and they were swept away. He took a few notes, then looked back at the others. “It’s too late at night to deal with them. Strip them and toss them in a cell somewhere.”
What do you do? --- Snödis and Dack were carried off somewhere else, somewhere much brighter lit and much louder. They were led in chains through hall after hall of rooms, not cells so much as enclosures, sealed except for a small glass window. The people inside - Töan and Fröman alike - suffered under the obvious symptoms of Monsterism, and many of them looked passive, even comfortable. Used to the noise. In significantly higher security containment, tiny slats allowed minute glimpses (and sounds and smells) of hulking creatures that had once been men. Wendigos, chained and angry. Guards and researchers watched them as they passed by, uninterested. Finally they were placed in a room with a tired-looking woman with a clipboard and chained to a chair. She looked them over, and took some notes. “Welcome to Nagel. In order to best care for you, we need you to answer a few questions. The chains on your wrists and ankles aren’t strictly necessary, but occassionally our visitors can be angry. Better safe than sorry! At any rate… when did your symptoms first arise? Are all your inclusions functional? Have you got any internal discrepancies? Have you sought treatment before? Have you ever had violent thoughts or impulses? Have you been exposed to Skinkellelomas? Have you ever felt a resonance in your Skillcore? Have you…”
What do you do? Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at 15:56 on Nov 6, 2017 |
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Oct 30, 2017 01:30
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    Gado!!! Skill: Digging (+20) HP: 3 Glory: 8->9->4->0 Gado is a little unsteady as the volunteers to fight the FFA gather, but something comes over the miniature Horde as they set off on their hunt. The nails binding them seem to be a guiding hand as the Töan force meets the FFA and the precision with which they strike into their foes is a little sickening. Gado stumbles away from the scene of the combat, a little sick to the stomach at the ease with which hos pickax split skulls, but his queasy guts don't stop him from picking through the corpses in hopes of finding a replacement skill core for the one that merged with his original. Finished rummaging through the veritable smorgasbord of skill cores, Gado turns to Digging through the pockets of the dead. It isn't long until there's a fine assortment of gold and jewels laying in a pile on the floor. It turns out working in a mine let you stash away a fine assortment of trinkets for spending. Sizing up the piles, Gado peers at the largest one. It wasn't something most soldiers would be interested in, but Shiny would probably appreciate the nice glint of light bouncing off of freshly minted coins. He did owe her for her help in Grimper's Punishment after all. Back in the town proper Gado approaches Magda's cart and slaps down a handful of Glory tokens "One of these free armors would be appreciated, but if it isn't too much trouble could we bring the cut in?" As he waits for his assigned gear Gado spots an old friend "You!!!" Fishing out the rest of his Glory Gado slides it to Magda "The Mole too please. We have unfinished business him and I." quote:Gado would like Free Armor Successful Businessmanga fucked around with this message at 23:48 on Oct 31, 2017 |
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Oct 30, 2017 01:56
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  HP: 2/2 Glory:11->12 It was a victory afterall. Biggo was still getting used to not having all his legs, but it had hampered his punching less than expected, plus the wobbliness of his movement had led to some accidental dodges that had really helped out. Still, he could really do with some more solid legs than what he had cobbled together in the spur of the moment. But first, free stuff! Sikatris Scarf Roll 1d100 = 13 Well he was just too slow to grab one of those nice scarves. Too bad. They looked really nice. He did manage to grab a fairly nice free suit of leather armor from the pile of gear being handed out, which helped his mood out some, especially after he cut out the sleeves to let his muscles show more. It's not like leather would protect more than his rock-hard arm muscles anyways. Or so Biggo thinks, anyhow. Anyhow, this was a mining town, right? Miners are always getting into accidents, maybe some of them lose their limbs but are still made to work because... Well, it's a hard life. Biggo wonders if he might find some better stuff than his makeshift gauntleted feet around town. It was worth a shot, anyhow. Trying to loot some prosthetics 1d100 = 33 It... Wasn't going very well.
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Oct 30, 2017 02:11
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 HP:1 Glory:13 Splut came to, groggily, his head still pounding. He winced as drips and drabs of memory came back to him, and looked around to get a good view of his surroundings. The Töan locality, which meant that they'd won: He could only hope that he'd tied up some of the enemy as they dealt with him so that the rest of the horde could triumph. Either way, he was alive, if barely, which meant there were things to do. There were still some other wounded around and about, and so he brightly began his spiel. "Friends, Töans, Hordemates, arise! We're made of sterner stuff than this. It takes more than a bit of bruising to keep us down! We are the Unexpectable Horde, and right now the last thing anyone expects of us is to stand, hale and hearty, ready to report for duty and to take up arms for the late Queen and our homeland. Now, our horde is not complete: Our commander and our brave comrades aren't back yet, and it may be that we need to get up at a moment's notice and come to their aid, else bring the fight to the enemy. So, look within yourselves, and ask yourselves, 'Am I really that badly hurt? is this injury really going to keep me from helping our fellow Töans-in-arms in their hour of need?' Of course not! We can walk it off, and we will! That which would slay a weaker Fröman, we can shrug off and just keep going, for that is what it means to be Töan!" Bluff the wounded into thinking that Töans are rapid healers: 32. Perhaps that could have gone better. In any case, as he wandered around, he came across the loot they had won from the Caravan, their cunning ruse played to perfection by their side. Looking over the weapons, there was one that caught his eye in particular: An elegant sword cane, a slender blade hidden inside a stout walking stick. A perfect bluffer's weapon, just right for getting the element of surprise if cunning words failed! He laid claim to it, and his eyes settled on the selection of scarves, masterfully made and artfully pilfered. He turned his mind to their risk assessor, and was minded to collect one as a gift, a little thank you for looking out for them prior to the successful operation which had resulted in this bounty. Claim a scarf as a gift for Qwäg: 34
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Oct 30, 2017 02:27
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  Name: Gabber Skill: Mimicry, Listening HP: 3 Glory: 4 -> 5 At Noggins' urging Gabber had joined the front of the group heading in to end the FFA, alongside herself and Portha. He'd be lying if he claimed that he wasn't nervous - especially given the townsfolk having coughed up that the caverns were a veritable deathtrap, but 'Oh, don't worry, here's where all the traps are. Oh, and one more there.' He'd stepped up though, and as Noggins said, they would need his new ears to help them reach their goal. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself for what lie ahead. They'd waited for word from Splut, but he'd missed their rendezvous time, so they'd be going in somewhat blind. Walking forward, Gabber began focusing on the sounds around him, hoping he could help them weave their way down to the FFA without getting them all killed... One sound trouncing later... Gabber sat on the floor of the main cavern catching his breath. They'd done it again, and somehow, again, he'd escaped death. They'd caught the FFA flat-footed, and it had been a sound and final defeat for the upstart group. While his movements had once been chaotic in battle, a sensation of calm and precision came over him during the skirmish, accompanied by a slight warmth in his shoulder blade. The power of the Nail, maybe? He knew it was supposed to help with Skillcores, but how it worked he...oh! Skillcores! Looking around for another suitable candidate, Gabber focused on a dead FFA member with oddly glowing eyes. Setting himself to the task at hand, he picked up a nearby dagger and set about digging into his expired form for more riches; Harvester's Grim Duty, indeed. Grab the Night Vision Skillcore: 1d100 61 Back In Town Magda was pleased, and that meant Gabber was pleased. For the time being, they'd be able to rest knowing Grimper wouldn't throttle them for almost losing the town. Getting down to brass tacks, Gabber went about getting a suitable weapon from the crates his comrades had seized, taking a sword similar to the one Noggins carried. He also tried to grab himself one of those fashionable scarves, too. They sure looked swell! Taking an Iron Sword Grab a scarf! 2.0: 1d100 10 
Task Manager fucked around with this message at 03:03 on Oct 30, 2017 |
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Oct 30, 2017 02:52
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Potrait:   Naim: Mason Skillz: Mason Hootin' an' Hollerin' HeeP: Mason Mason Mason Glury: Masonx6 -> 7 Mason claims armor! Mason and a Sentient Bottle of Rum (Drinking Skillcore): 1d100 60 Purdy Skarf: 1d100 81
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Oct 30, 2017 03:42
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So loving close! Argh!
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Oct 30, 2017 04:47
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Noggins Skill: Carpentry HP: 3 Glory: 14->15 Ritual Glory: 1 Noggins took deep breaths as the carnage finally settled, blue Fröman blood dripping from her sword. It was over. Over. She took a quick stock of the results--they'd won with no injuries. That was... good. Yeah. This was never going to happen without casualties. Even if they'd somehow captured all of the FFA, what then? They clearly couldn't just be left free. Drive them all into the Old Guy vault to see what happened? Judging by what happened to Biggo and Tharbad, that would be even worse. Nail them, too? To who, without Grimper around? Magda? One of the horde? To her? No. No, this was the best that outcome that they could have hoped for. She had a responsibility to uphold. She felt a wave of relief when they found Splut, chained up and unconscious. Because he was alive, of course, because they'd saved him, but also because it lifted her guilt, to see what the FFA had done. They'd have done that and so much worse to her friends, if they'd had a chance. They had to stop them. And if this was the only way to do it, so be it. She'd do this as many times as it took to keep everyone else safe. That's what Sir Occam would have done, right? When they cracked open the supply crates, Noggins couldn't help but feel disappointed. Sure, it wasn't surprising that it didn't contain anything better than what she'd already had, but she'd had hope, and the skillcores had been similarly disappointing. The good stuff must've been in the boxes that Skup kept. Still, it wasn't all bad. Sikatris had done some good work on these scarves, and Noggins helped herself to one. It looked rather dashing with her armor, at least if you asked her. About to step away from the crates, Noggins paused, and grabbed another sword, handing it over to Hob. "Good work down there. And hey, eyepatch buddies gotta stick together, right?" She winked. Or at least, tried. It wasn't easy when you only had one good eye. Grab A Sweet Scarf: 1d100 48 Disengaged from the general looting as she was, Noggins had time to notice Biggo, still moving uncertainly on improvised gauntlet-feet, and Tharbad, left sitting where Hob had carefully set him down. It was heartbreaking, really. "Alright you two, get over here--sorry, no, Biggo, you get over to Tharbad, and I'll head over there--and I'll get you two fitted. It's not going to be the same as having your legs back, and I don't have the full workshop I'd need to make something really nice, but it should be a lot more comfortable than... well, that." Carve Prosthetics: 1d100+10+14 89 The Lord of Hats fucked around with this message at 05:28 on Oct 30, 2017 |
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Oct 30, 2017 05:25
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  Name: Portha Skills: Rummaging, Cleaning HP: 2/3 Glory: 4 Revenge was sweet, too bad none of the jerks had anything on them and their skillcores didn't look useful (aside from Drinking, but Portha didn't need any extra help doing that). Everyone was in high spirits leaving the mine, though a little sore. It was time to replace the makeshift bandaging and give the wound a proper disinfecting. Clean wounds 1d100+14=79 Deciding to not let an incident like that happen again, Portha grabbed a set of the armor they just liberated, but while she was there, the scarves caught her eye. Loot roll for scarf 1d100=52 super sweet best pal fucked around with this message at 00:24 on Oct 31, 2017 |
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Oct 30, 2017 06:44
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  Name: Gawp HP: 3 Skill: Perception (active) Equipment: Sharp Stick (+0) Glory: 7 -> 8 Ritual Chits: 12 -> 13 (artwork bonus) Morrskag Forest, Fostis (part 5): Gawp was utterly depressed. He and the others were absolutely wrecked from their encounter with the Sungazer, and it was all his fault. Gawp had never been so mortified. On top of all that, he was definitely starting to feel sick! Gawp's mind reeled from the sudden onset of panic: he knew that he was doomed the moment Grimper found out about all this. When word around camp got out that he was the one responsible for getting close to a quarter of the army infected with the Slinker Pox, he was a goner for sure. Untreated, that stuff could mutate and get really, really bad. If Grimper didn't kill him first (and that was a big If), his fellow afflicted colleagues certainly would. His sweaty flesh began to crawl and his stomach lurched, tightening into a clenched fist. Gawp felt like he needed to vomit somewhere, but after a single, violent dry heave against a tree trunk, the feeling passed. He wished he was dead. What had happened? During the long hike back from the forest trails, Gawp had plenty of time to review the day's horrific events in vivid detail, just as he remembered them: First they had found all the slinkers, and then they had caught a few. Then they had started chasing just the monsterist slinkers and those led them someplace special. Then they had run into that giant monsterist slinker, Sungazer, standing in the middle of that strange clearing. Then they had managed to lure the monstrous beast further towards camp in a bid to secure more help... which they actually got! Gawp didn't even know where the other Töans had come from, but slowly over the course of the day, more and more Unexpectables started coming out of the woodwork to help them! Then things reached a certain tension point, a threshold of sorts where there were some thirty-odd guys in the forest surrounding the monstrous beast just throwing food at it and gaping and gawking at it and trying to leave and then everything had gone awry. Gawp didn't even know how it had happened - it had all been so sudden! In a fit of excitement, the monster's lowermost eye must've ruptured and exploded with its sickening fluid, spattering everybody nearby with a debilitating slime. It was absolutely horrible - it had gotten everywhere! So that was what uncontrollable monsterism did to you... Gawp was still rubbing at his eyes, trying to get all traces of the viscous stuff out. They had been so close to calming the beast, too! Gawp could feel that, whatever it was they were doing to soothe and cajole the beast along, it had been working! Now Sungazer and the other slinkers had run off and everyone around him was getting sick. No slinkers, no Sungazer, nothing to show for all their troubles other than a bunch of bite marks and the onset of the Slinker Pox. Gawp cleared his nostrils and coughed out a particularly thick wad of spit. Gross. Gawp couldn't believe he had been that close to a monster like that, and lived to tell the tale! Camp, Outside Fostis: By the time he made it back to the camps outside Fostis, Gawp was too sick to care that Grimper was going to find out about his failure and kill him. All Gawp was concerned with was finding a hot meal and a bed to lie down in. He got in line for this evening's stew and noticed that something was different about the camp - namely, that there was a line forming at Magda's. What was this? They were giving away weapons - and clothing too? Why not - what's one more line to stand in? Gawp is claiming a Fröman Cuirass +1 and getting in line for a fine Sikatris Scarf. Claiming a Fine Scarf: 1d100 46 Appropriately outfitted, Gawp entered the field hospital, looking for some form of relief for his incoming sickness. Since he was apparently uninjured, instead of being shoo'd off he was given work to do. Before the field doctors got their hands hands dirty, Gawp and the other nurses were needed to help them clean up the injuries. Gawp required some visual aid training from Portha first. With one pair of eyes, he carefully watched the other nurses as they performed their preparatory work, and with his other pair of eyes he kept a careful view of the patient he was working on, scanning their wounds for infection. In this way, he would do his best to mimic the actions of the other nurses, and to spot any injuries that looked particularly serious or unclean. Learning First Aid: 1d100+17 63 Gawp sniffled and wiped his nose on his upper arm. He's no expert but he thinks he's getting the hang of it! Lux Anima fucked around with this message at 05:11 on Nov 1, 2017 |
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Oct 30, 2017 08:23
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Dog Kisser posted:Grimper heard him manage to get out that there’d been ‘an attack by some strange beast’ before gauntleted hands gripped him and hauled him inside before slamming the doors. 
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Oct 30, 2017 08:42
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 Bully Skills: Oratory, Climbing HP:3 Glory: 12 Bully can't help but feel somewhat bitter over their failure. They were so close to capturing the beast, he could feel it. He decides to grab a free weapon and see if he can grab one of those nice scarves while he's at it. Seeking a scarf; 1d100=63. He feels the sickness, and knows he is tainted. Bully wonders off alone into the woods for it to run its course, hoping that at least he will not inadvertantly infect his comrades. While he knows that Monsterism is not infectious - indeed Gawp, already afflicted, is truly a valued member of the horde, he feels it would be unseemly to let the others see him in this state. If the worst comes to worst, at least he can find a quiet, secluded place to die. Searching for solitude: 1d100+12=48 Oh, NOW I roll an even number. If I die, Gloff can have my stuff!
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Oct 30, 2017 09:35
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^^^ I don't think the scarf roll is what counts when checking for the Slinkekelloma. You're probably fine! (Mostly!)
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Oct 30, 2017 09:58
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Prince of Space posted:^^^ I don't think the scarf roll is what counts when checking for the Slinkekelloma. You're probably fine! (Mostly!) You're not! I said next roll, sucka!
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Oct 30, 2017 12:11
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   Name: Neebs Skill(s): Sales (used this turn) HP: 3 Glory: 4 -> 1 Ritual Glory: 1 -> 0 (brown banner that literally no one voted for; hopefully may we never speak of it again now that this ritual glory is as dust) With the Free Fostian Alliance defeated, there was work to do. She still wasn't sure how she felt about killing the FFA, but; the FFA were planning on doing the same to the horde; so it seemed only fair...especially after she saw what they had done to Splut. She felt that she needed some kind of coping mechanism to pick up, rather than constantly wallowing in self-doubt and pity about the people that were dying at her hands. She made a grab for the Drinking skillcore. Surely drinking would be better than these constant depressing throughts. Grab the Drinking Skillcore: 1d100 75 Remembering her past as a SalesTö, there were caravan supplies to organize. Unfortunately, Magda seemed to be keen on performing that task, and Neebs had no desire to get in Magda's way. From the caravan supplies that were made available from Magda, Neebs picked out a leather armor that fit rather snugly. Also notably, there were scarves. Since Neebs had been so instrumental in convincing the caravan to give up its supplies, she tried to convince her fellow Töans to let her have one of the scarves using her best SalesTö voice. Obtain a scarf: 1d100+10 94 (if I can't use my skill for this, I suppose make it an 84 /shrug) If Neebs was going to continue following Noggins on her insane rampages, Neebs figured she better arm herself. Using 4 glory, she purchased a There were wounded to tend to (though, Neebs didn't have the skills to really help with that). So, instead, Neebs did the only thing she knew to help the horde as whole, and contributed 1 ritual glory to the Luck's Fickle Gaze ritual. Neebs was exhausted. The horde called these times downtimes, but Neebs didn't feel she got much rest in this one. She found a free Fostian bed and collapsed into it. Edit: replaced Iron sword with battlebrüm. Half-wit fucked around with this message at 23:30 on Oct 31, 2017 |
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Oct 30, 2017 12:31
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Shawshank Redemption Engage.
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Oct 30, 2017 13:54
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  Extra Skillcore: Sitting Quietly HP: 3 Glory: 12-13 Ritual Glory: 1 Snödis complied without resistance to the demands of her captors, letting her four eyes wander over every minute detail of the science-prison as they escorted her ever deeper inside. lingering just a while longer on the caged Wendingoes than either wise or appropriate, she mapped out the place in her mind a well as she could given the circumstances, searching for any sign of her on-and-off-again boyfriend, Tö-Päin. Her fellow captive, some mook named Dack, was oddly silent. Perhaps he had taken both of their shares of terror and intimidation, or perhaps he was just playing it cool. Either way it left Snödis as the only one of their number with the sense to respond. She waited until the researcher had finished her barrage of questions, and set about to answer them, knowing full well her reply would be heard even amongst those Fröians not here present.  This prison of yours, Is woefully kept. With Wendingoes abound, it's bound to get rekt! So consider my words, before you get eaten! The Fröian Nation, is about to get beaten! By a rag tag gang of radical monsterist, with no obligation to any false monarchist! Whose message is spread by lyrical accomplishment, a memetic fever all up in your establishment! And no we ain't got time to answer your questions, For my people will rise up against your oppressions! With our roots spread wide all across the wörld, from East-westphalia to Lower Abörld! So hear me, you squares, you bureaucratic rot-faces, you ain't even got time to get in my good graces For this hymn that I'm spitting is so sick, it's so fly It's already started the riot, go on, check outside. Disapproving Poetry to start a Prison Riot: 1d100+10+13 = 108 BB)
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Oct 30, 2017 13:55
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 Pythag HP: (3) of (3) Skill: Math Equipment: Shield Glory: 12 The weight of it all didn't hit Pythag fully until everyone was back in camp. The adrenaline and fear had kept him going through the 'rescue' but now that he was back - he practically collapsed at the nearest crash tent, his exhausted mind slipping into sleep right away. When he woke up, a note hand been left on his chest. He unfolded it. Discount Coward Claws, This Downtime Only! New Low Price: Your Dignity and the success of a scouting mission. Pre-Paid in full! He winced, crumpling it up and tossing the paper into the nearest fire. He stared at the flames, thinking back on it all. If he hadn't run from the beast, then - then they likely would have had the numbers to subdue the 'Gazer when the reinforcements arrived. But he'd run. He'd run when others stood face to face with the beast. Frazzled, he wandered closer to the center of town. The new scarves were all the rage, and might even serve as a good mouth covering if he wanted to talk with the infected. Loot Roll - Scarf: 1d100 = 3 There were a lot of others in that line, others who hadn't run. Who had succeeded at the trade mission, who had stood to face the Sungazer. In the end, he just left the line empty-handed. And marched up to the armory outfit. "One free breastplate please." Taking a free Armor. "Oh, and three upgrades." Spending 12 Glory for three armor upgrades Maybe if he looked the part of a hero, he wouldn't run away next time. And if he died before finding his spine - at least this armor would go to the army. Action: Find Courage: 1d100 = 18
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Oct 30, 2017 15:15
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Added some equipment art to last post. Also, this came up in Discord - going forward, Food bonuses are going to be stronger. Instead of firing off once, they'll fire once per scene, per >20 group. Make sure you eat up! edit: It's been pointed out that had I implemented this earlier you probably would never have been covered in giant weasel eye goop. I can only say 'oops' and refer you to a now legendary quote of mine from several games ago quote:22:45: DogKisser: FINE I SUCK AND AM GARBAGE Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at 15:30 on Oct 30, 2017 |
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Oct 30, 2017 15:15
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 Name: Gigs Skill: Unflappability HP: 3 Glory: 12 (Tired. Will edit flavor in later.) Claiming weapon. Rolling for scarf (3). Rolling for Triangulation (26). Welp.
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Oct 30, 2017 15:38
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 Name: Hob HP: 3/3 Glory: 9≥5≥6 lore Ritual Glory : 2>3>0 Skill: Bee keeping, Contortion Hob was happier on his walk back to town. Thinking about his plan to Contort his spear into a bow: 1d100+10+9 58. Craft attempt: Basic Bow Thinking about the raid. The raid had been a success. And Hob had helped. Helped carry Tharbad, helped fight. He wasn't leading the charge, and he wasn't standing out. He was just there. At the right place at the right time. And that was OK. He didn't need to be the best. He sighed. Maybe this was The way of the beekeeper. To give support to the others, to get things done in the background. It was almost the polar opposite to Butterfly Beastmastery and Riding.  Butterflies were horrible, vicious beasts. Those who used them risked much. They danced with death. And with their dance they brought terrible glory. This horde had a beastmaster and a rider, very auspicious. One day, they might tell tales of the unexpectable's great butterfly rider and the destruction she wrought on her enemies. And what of the beekeeper? Hob had asked his mentor once, what was at the heart of beekeeping? What meaning was held in the way?  She had leaned in, as if to tell a secret, and whispered "bzzz, protect the queen" before falling over backwards laughing. It wasn't very funny now. No, it was clearer now. The bees were not engines of war. You didn't train bees. You don't ride them. You don't wield them as a weapon. You keep bees, and they keep you. You take what they make and it helps everyone. Or, in the case of the larger Solitary bees, you took what help they gave and gave them food and help in return. Maybe Hob was like that. The OG vault was a mess, and to be honest the fighting was not what Hob had imagined from the stories. It was bloody. Vicious. No, Hob was happiest when he was cooking, carrying, helping. Hob is a beekeeper.  Dropping Tharbad off in town, Hob wandered over to Get some armour, dropping off some ritual specific glory he found in the mines. 3 glory to luck's fickle gaze. "May I have a shield too? I'll paint a bee or something on it." Hob smiled at Magda for a moment, but only a moment as the shield came hurling towards him at neck height. Waiting in line at the carts, he wondered if he could Snag a nice scarf: 1d100 20 Or if they would all be gone by the time he got to the front. note; if Hob gets a scarf but Gado doesn't, transferring to Gado That's when Noggins passed him a sword. "Wow, thanks!" Then she... Blinked at him? Winked! "Yeah, I've got your back, always". Hob watched her walk away, walk over to get the two legless Toans sized up for prosthetics. The Unexpectables already had a hero. And she was all the hero they needed. WereGoat fucked around with this message at 19:51 on Nov 1, 2017 |
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Oct 30, 2017 16:29
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  Name: Doc HP: 3 Glory: 4 Skill: Surgery No big monster friend. Also nothing to show for all that running around in the forest. Maybe a fancy new scarf would cheer her up.Scarves are neat: 1d100 = 50 (Doc: Perfectly Average) Maybe not. Well, at least there was Free Armor being handed out. That was something. Since there was some Downtime before things probably got real bad, might as well get back to doing some Surgery: 1d100+14 = 26 Just make a cut here. A cut there. Some more cuts. Even more cuts. Nobody even needs that part, take it out. Dump some herbs into the wounds, then stitch them up. Easy. (The curse is broken! A roll thats not in the 50s somewhere! Doc can now also be Less Than Average in addition to Average!) Doc would also Spend 4 glory to upgrade her new armor. Maybe some more padding. And dye it so that she stands out, and everyone knows to come to her for healing because she is clearly the best at it.
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Oct 30, 2017 17:58
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 Name: Ringo! HP: 2/2 (Crippled) Glory: 12 > 13 Skill: Lockpicking (just used) Ringo lay flat on his back in the cell. At least it was clean. And quiet. Plenty of time to think! It looked like the guards didn't really come down around here that much. They probably had their hands full what with all the monsterist inmates. No tools, no contact with the outside. Wait...no tools? The dum-dums hadn't taken one thing from Ringo, and that was all he needed. He made a mental note to thank Shiny and Hat later (and maybe even Grimper). Carefully, quietly, he removed his topknot hat, and pulled out the pin that held it together. With the hair tied around his wrist for luck, he got to work. Unlock my Cell Door: 1d100+12+10 43
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Oct 30, 2017 20:58
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 Skill: Sleuthing (used) HP: 3 Glory: 7 ----> 8 Well, Humbug had gotten what he wanted. He was now inside one of the most infamous prisons in all of Tö and Frö - and it was nothing like what he'd expected, so far. That was very interesting! Less interesting, and far more embarassing, was the fact he'd been caught and stuck inside a jail cell, together with Shiny, Ringo and Otter... and while this might have been (or would soon be) disastrous for them, it just so happened that all of his jailmates were former criminals! If anyone knew the inside of a cell, it was the three of them... and Humbug knew something of the outside aspect. Everyone had a clue as to what would be at stake during a prison break. "Haha! Not our best entrance, but I suppose... hum... it could do. No doubt the day shift will be eager to return to their beds - while the night shift has been decimated. They'll spend some time sorting that out. If we can get out quickly, we might have an opportunity on our hands." Humbug smiled broadly as Ringo removed the pin from his hairdo. Now see, everything was already falling into place! If just Ringo could--- wait... Humbug paused, and peered through the darkness at the shape of the lock the other Töan was fiddling with. "Wait, Ringo. I recognize that lock. It's a newer make, fresh out of the capitol last year. These Frömen fiends must've copied our superior Töan technology! From what I heard, the key's shape will be off. Check to see if one of the tumblers behaves a little differently - it'll be a trap tumbler - then avoid locking that one in place." Aiding the Lockpick Attempt:: 1d100+7 71
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Oct 30, 2017 22:45
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 Skill 2: Amputation HP: 3 Glory 10 Qwäg quietly wiped the Frömen blood from her hands on a handful of grasses; it wouldn't do to stain the uniforms. Peering at the glistening mound of wet, freshly extracted skillcores, she attempted to snag the Gazing core and stash it away; she had no particular desire for it, but some of the eyejobs back at base might be willing to trade something valuable for it. Gawp, perhaps? Claiming the Gazing skillcore: 1d100 88 Looting Guard Armor: 1d100 55 As the heat of the moment subsided, and the swell of inmanent Risk subsided, she felt her accustomed sangfroid returning. In the cold light of reason, she found herself agreeing with Warlord Grimper. The prison had been scouted, the enemy weakened, and prizes wrested from them. Several Unexpectables had infiltrated the prison, and their success was now out of her hands. But. Sunk Cost, said her mind, but "Wait, Warlord," was the reponse from her treacherous lips. Cut Bait, she didn't say, as Grimper's baleful gaze fell upon her. "We can't leave yet," she said instead. "The plan is still underway!" Don't throw bad Glory after good, absolutely refused to be uttered, in deference to "Now is the part were we sit tight." Well, conceded that inner monitor, we're committed now. Don't get us Grimped. "Look at our assets," she continued hastily, "Ringo, Shiny, Otter, Humbug; our infiltrators and breakers, who do their best work in the dark: Right where they need to be. Snödis to continue the mental degradation of the enemy from the inside, meeting her contact and sowing havoc and despair." Reaching down, she patted the pointy head of the rotund Klorf. "And Klorf here, with his ability to build signal fires, will fall back to report to the rest of the horde. We'll set the chisel, and our comrades will swing the sledge to crack this place wide open." Looking up at Grimper, she patted the cover of her notebook confidently and hoped to Mög and Göm that Grimper didn't have a Lie Detection skillcore. "The numbers have tipped in our favor. The redders will pay for the atrocities they've committed inside those gates, and you'll lead us over their broken bodies as we free our countrymen to fight by our sides once more." Qwäg turned, gazing intently at the gates of Nägel, lips creasing as she mentally analyzed approach vectors for their chances of success. "We just have to wait," she declared, tapping her notebook to punctuate her words, "for exactly the right moment." Snap, closes her notebook. "Then strike for Her Majesty." A Jailbreak at The Most Opportune Moment!: 1d100+20 92 Bee Bonk fucked around with this message at 14:10 on Nov 1, 2017 |
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Oct 30, 2017 23:06
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 Name: Hat Skill: Millinery HP: 3/3 Equipment: Leather Armour (+1) Glory: 12 Ritual Glory: 1 -> 0 Hat watched the rear of the squad, as instructed. As the battle began and the screams of the doomed Fröan resistance echoed though the mine, the few members that were waiting in the ambush spots ran back to defend/avenge their comrades... and got the pointy end of a sharp stick through their neck for their trouble. And with the Nail-knowledge echoing in her head, her blows now effortlessly avoiding the skillcore-sensitive areas, a strange grin started to creep across Hat's face. No doubt about it; the killing was getting easier. The rebellion safely vanquished and the skillcores and valuables collected, the squard returned to the camp to see Magda opening the caravan supplies. Hat instantly sprinted towards the box she was sure she had seen the scarves in last... One scarf, please!: 1d100 83 ... and, quickly stuffing her prize under her hat for safety, joined the queue for a new weapon. The pointy stick had ended up serving her well; she hoped there were a few spears left in the crates. Taking a weapon; ideally a spear, but if they're out/DogKisser doesn't want to draw one, a sword is fine. Her own selfish desires sated for the moment, Hat felt it was time to contribute back to the Horde's well-being. She dropped a single, solitary Glory token into the Luck's Fickle Gaze jar and wandered the camp, finding herself standing outside the medical tent. She was surprised at the number of injured Töans the Horde had accumulated up to now. Taking a deep breath, she went inside and offered her services to the nearest medic. She didn't know much anatomy, but bandages were sort of like hats for wounds, right?? Assisting the medics: 1d100+12+10 87
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Oct 31, 2017 00:08
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I think now might be a good time to send someone in Fostis who isn't busy back to Tö with the Loot, see about bringing down someone from the guilds to manage Fostis for us, maybe a scholar of Old Guy relics as well.
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Oct 31, 2017 02:12
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We can rebuild him. We have the technology. We have the capability to build the world's first bar-onic Töan. Tharbad will be that Töan. Better than he was before. Taller. Harder. Bar-er.
The Lord of Hats fucked around with this message at 05:58 on Oct 31, 2017 |
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Oct 31, 2017 05:51
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   Name: Gawp HP: 3 Skill: Perception (cooling) Equipment: Sharp Stick (+0) Glory: 8 Ritual Chits: 13 -> 14 (artwork bonus) Camp, Outside Fostis (part 2): Despite being on the wrong side of the quarantine line, Gawp was feeling surprisingly hale and hearty - chipper, even. This wasn't his first time with the Slinker Pox, no sirree! In fact, the first time he'd gotten them he was only just a child, practically a baby or so he'd heard. Apparently it wasn't until his fourth eye stopped growing out of his head that the symptoms finally passed and Gawp was allowed to play with the other kids again... He'd heard that getting the Slinker Pox wasn't nearly as bad the second time around - that you build up an immunity to it if you've been through it before. Gawp wasn't entirely sure about that, in fact Gawp was rather glad that he'd gone to the field hospital to wash out his skin wounds with alcohol, but still - it was worth the brief brush with rampant, uncontrollable monsterism just to find out! That Sungazer had certainly been something else! Gawp found himself wishing he could Gaze directly into the sun and still be unfazed, just like Sungazer could. What strange magics would he see up there, with the right set of eyes? Gawp was feeling restless being cooped up, so Gawp went and did whatever it was Gawp usually did when he found himself with an excess amount of energy and too many deep thoughts to contend with: he started hitting things with rocks. Not just anything, mind you - Gawp knew how to be productive with his urges. He took a nice, flat stone and a handful of Magda's failed Nails, and he began hammering them into the end of his sharp stick, spearing his wooden weapon with shafts of sharp metal in just such a way that he'd be able to brandish his staff like a spear and a spiked club. Like so:  One - two - three - four. Four nails. Each one signified a downtime that Gawp had survived long enough to enjoy. He hoped he'd live to put many more nails into his trusty tool of war, and soon. Lux Anima fucked around with this message at 05:24 on Nov 1, 2017 |
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Oct 31, 2017 06:55
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Sucy HP: 3 Glory: 10 Skill: Mushrooms Phone posting right now, so I'll edit in some flavor later on Scavenge nightvision skillcore: 1d100: 10 Claim scarf: 1d100: 55 Get a free weapon, preferably a broom if DK feels like drawing it, any weapon will do though. Heal the wounded using mad mushroom science: 1d100+20: 55 sheep-dodger fucked around with this message at 23:43 on Oct 31, 2017 |
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Oct 31, 2017 10:29
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No update today while I wait for stuff to come in, but I'm going to keep updating the first post with updates to portraits due to armor changes! wait no i need to see who gets the scarves first oops I'll get through em' all eventually! edit:also here's some items y'all are picking up or buying!       It should be obvious whose is whose, but let me know if there's confusion! Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at 19:40 on Nov 1, 2017 |
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Oct 31, 2017 15:41
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   Spleen the Volatile Skill: 'Splosions HP: 3/3 Glory: 1 -> 2 Spleen woke up By which we mean that whilst he had walked though a lot of things and done a lot of things he wasn't actually doing anything consciously, that happens some times when he gets deep in thought. The deep thoughts were about bombs, in fact they were deep thoughts about bombs, applied to walls, or rather to the foundation of walls to good effect. He considered that actually, there was something he could probably acquire that would make it easier. Attempting to acquire DogKisser suggested that rolling for Skillcores should maybe be a free action so I will try for the Guard Uniform again, 1d100 = 30 Whether or not he acquired his prize he shuffled to the edge of the little camp, he knows what he has to do here. He didn't much care for the monsters inside the prison but he did care however about the people who were in the walls though, that wouldn't do, he thought, we should do something about that, but the boss man wasn't convinced despite the efforts of Qwag to convince him otherwise, Spleen decided he would try. "Heavy walls on soft loam." Said Spleen, who had wandered into the attempt at diplomacy with his signature have sleepy gait. "Architecturally intimidating yes, designed to be, but not good for sieges in the circumstances though but who would siege a prison for monsters?" A boomstick was in his hands now. "Fish bones are small but can kill a Froman if they are in the wrong place, much like explosions, directly thrown against the gate he thinks this wouldn't work so good, but..." "Perhaps Spleen thinks if we do it like we did in basic training and dig under the gates, and then plant the bombs, we make a big hole and we let soft loam and heavy walls on one spot do the rest of the work. We make larger opening in prison for the getting out of other Horde members yes? Is this an except-able idea with reasonable chance of success Boss?" TheNabster fucked around with this message at 22:36 on Oct 31, 2017 |
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Oct 31, 2017 22:14
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